#I had two different roads I was staring down tonight. one was this.

[blondedmuse]

MISERY BUSINESS

felix catton x reader

synopsis. ꩜ based off of this request.

author’s note. ∿ i need this man so bad it’s not even funny. smut (fingering, oral f receiving, fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, praise, marking, voyeurism I guess idk) it's been a while since I wrote something on this account and its not proofread so be nice, also a bit of a rushed ending??

word count. ⨾ 2.7k

The harsh thud of the car door closing awoke you from your mid-day reverie by the lake. The sun was beaming down on you almost bare body, only covered by a bikini. It was hotter than usual and everyone else at saltburn seemed to share your complaints. The heat aside the weather was pleasant—Felix on the other hand looked less than.

He looked annoyed, almost upset, even from far away. When he exited the car Oliver and Felix went their separate ways, Oliver looking just as unhappy. You wondered what happened in just few hours that could’ve soured their moods but it was only a few moments later when Felix approached you, grinning in attempt to hide the scowl he was dressed in minutes earlier.

Once he reached your figure he towered over your body as you laid on the dock. Having well acknowledge the heat now and your lack of clothing he discarded his shirt and quickly lowered his frame over yours so that his was barely hovering over yours.

“What’s wrong?” You asked.

He shook his head with a small grin. “nothing.”

You scoffed. “Liar.” He raised his brows.

“What’s wrong?” You prodded again. He dropped his head in hesitation, his lip between his teeth as he contemplated telling you what happened on his and Oliver’s road trip, what he felt, what the truth was—but he couldn’t. Not yet anyways.

He looked up at you. “I- Oliver just said something and it hurt me more than I thought it would.”

You sat up, the two of you adjusting your bodies as you did so. You stared intently at his face, watching how his eyes glossed over and how he could barely hold your gaze. It was a different demeanor than what other people knew, one of the more human parts that made people fall in love with him.

You lifted his face towards yours. “I’m sorry.” The silence that followed after your statement determined he wasn’t interested in sharing anything deeper than the surface of the matter.

He looked back at Saltburn then back at you. “Don’t be.”

You scrunched your brows. “Hm?”

“I don’t know,” He said earnestly. “It’s not your fault, I should’ve listened to you earlier. You kept saying you had a bad feeling about him and I didn’t really take it to heart…til’ now I guess.”

“Oh, Felix,” You sighed, cupping his face, your hand over his jaw subliminally believing that it would release the tension he held there.

“He’s out tomorrow.” His hand caressed yours as it rested on his cheek.

“Really?”

“Really.” He confirmed. “Maybe now I can get you, alone, yeah?” His body pushed yours back down on the doc so he was hovering over you once again.

"Felix," You laughed. "Always distracting me, aren't you."

"No 'm not," he mumbled, nipping at your earlobe. "You weren't doing anything important anyways."

"I was going to ask another question," You giggled.

"Okay," He answered, pushing himself so that he kneeled above you, a knee on either side of your torso. "What?"

When he was playful like this he was such a beautiful sight in front of you, you almost felt bad asking him a question as if you were ruining the mood.

"You're not really kicking him out are you? I feel bad."

He sighed. "I am kicking him out and you shouldn't feel bad, he’s in the business of misery it’s almost like his job to make people feel bad." He crawled back over you once again, something heavier within him now. You could see it in the way he clenched his jaw, his clouded eyes. His mouth made its way back to your body, this time trailing down your stomach, beginning to leave marks you knew you’d have to hide at the party tonight.

“Felix,” You frowned. “I just-”

He cut you off. “Enough, alright. He was a creep anyways, you said it yourself,” He told you and you nodded, internally agreeing.

“He’s going home after the party.”

The feel of his voice as he mumbled into your skin was enough for you to stop thinking about the situation for the moment. It wasn’t until nightfall you were reminded of Oliver's unrelenting presence—it was his birthday after all. Still, no matter where you were in Saltburn, you couldn't help but feel a pair of eyes upon you, you couldn’t help but feel that you were never alone.

"Can we go somewhere a little more private?" You asked Felix and he hardly registered the question. His hands up your dress the lights were dim, colored strobe lights bleeding in from the outside. The room was close to empty but the music could be heard throughout the house. You could ask him anything to anyone and it wouldn’t really mean anything—and it didn't help that the two of you were getting dizzy on champagne.

So, you didn't ask you question again but your eyes flickered to the maze that could be seen from the window and he understood what you wanted.

"Whatever you want, angel." He grinned, pulling his hands away to grab yours, taking you to the garden.

You scrunched your brows together. "I should be calling you that y'know."

He laughed with you. "You have wings too."

"But I'm a fairy"

"Close enough." You laughed to yourself as you and Felix walked through the house and towards the maze. There was a bottle of champagne in your left, Felix’s hand in your right, grounding you with each step. The more the time passed the less ideal it felt to walk in heels—you thought of ditching them all together. Still, they held the integrity of your costume, matching the chosen Midsummer Night's Dream theme. You'd dressed up as a fairy, donning flowers in your hair and a frilly slip dress, the costume obviously incomplete without wings.

Your heels pierced through the dirt once you’d made it to the grass, your feet sinking slightly with each step. You groaned to yourself, not going unnoticed by Felix.

“You okay?” He asked, stopping to turn to you.

“My heels,” You answered.

He furrowed his brows. “What about them?”

“Well…” You hesitated. “They’re killing my feet and they keep sinking into the dirt. They’re gonna get dirty.”

“We’ll we can’t have that know can we,” Felix replied, picking you in on fell swoop, your body now in his arms, your legs dangling from his grasp.

"Felix," You giggled his named through broken laughs, surprised with the immediacy of his action.

"What? You know I'd do anything for my best girl," He told you, returning the wide lipped smile on your face.

"I didn't ask you anything."

"You didn't have to."

You went limp in his arms as you sighed, comparable to an act of defiance as if you were annoyed, as if he did something wrong; but you knew he couldn't if he tried. He shook his head but the smirk on his lips was undeniable as he carried you the rest of the way to the center of the maze.

"You're insufferable, won't even let me carry you," He carped, putting you down and letting you lean against the cold metal of the statue as you put the bottle of champagne on the ground beside you.

"I did and you love me," You retorted, inching your face towards his, leaving a sliver of space between your lips. The bronze on your back that chilled your skin was a stark contrast to the heat radiating from Felix's body, from the warmth of the air around you. It was intoxicating, his breath on your skin and the breeze of the wind. Looking up at him you could see that carnal glimmer in his eyes when his hands roamed your body only moments earlier, and this morning on the dock. It was something you craved and that was something he knew and savored the fact.

"Well I can't deny that," He smirked before closing the gap between the two of you. You could feel the indent of his grin as he kissed you, his lips turned up into a wicked smile, something more depraved, but still, nonetheless, Felix.

"Why don't I finished what I started earlier, love?" He asked against you not bothering to pull away and you only moaned in approval. His lips traveled from yours to the lobe of your ear so he knew you could hear him clearly.

"You need to use your words, darling."

"Yes," You keened, wanting—needing more than what was being given.

"Good girl," He hummed, his hands drawing down the straps of your dress before they traced down the rest of your body all the way to your thighs. He hooked his hands under them, lifting you to sit on the base of the statue.

"This okay?" He asked, looking into your eyes for conformation, the raise of his eyebrows encouraging it verbally as well.

"Yeah," You sighed breathelessly. "But I still need you."

He smirked again. "Let me fix that then."

Felix's hands gently lowered the front of your dress, exposing your breasts and taking one of them into his mouth, moaning around it.

"You're beautiful, darling" He mumbled, groaning as his tongue slid over your hard nipple. His words were genuine but you couldn't help but feel a little cheesy, kicking your foot playfully at his leg and you felt his erection, hard as you did so.

"And you know that already," He chuckled, sucking your nipple more aggressively. "But it's true." His words made you ache with impatience, whine with desire. Felix pulled back before lowering himself to his knees, his eyes not daring to leave yours. Only when he licked an agonizingly slow, sloppy stripe against your clothed cunt his eyes focused on the sight in front of him.

You breath hitched in anticipation as he pulled down your panties with his teeth and taking them off, shooting you a wink as he pocketed them. Immediately after his gaze moved back to your wet pussy, wasting no time in tasting you.

He dropped his head and his tongue slithered to your clit, flicking the pearl a few times before wrapping his lips around it. Your core was hot against his face, your scent, heady and electrifying; he could spend hours between your legs. Your hand went to claw at his hair, your fingers entangling with his brown locks.

"Ri-Right there," You breathed, attempting your best to string a coherent thought together, but it was hard when one of his hands massaged the outside of your thigh while the other came up to your empty hand. Your fingers interlocking, his thumb kneading the side of your palm as he sucked harder at your clit. You squeezed it as you released strangled moans, strained from the attempt to stay quiet.

"You can be louder, love. No one else is going to hear you except me." You didn't believe him, swearing you heard something in the bushes move along with the fact that there was a full blown party happening in his house right now; but you couldn't help yourself either.

He slipped two fingers into you, eliciting a lewd moan with ease. Your legs pressed together and he almost felt suffocated at the momentary feeling of being entirely enveloped by you—but it was exactly what he wanted.

"Oh God, Felix," You fingers digging deeper into his scalp and he groaned.

His movements were mindless and uncalculated, but they had you reeling each time. He knew your body like a book, where to touch to have your head spinning. The longer he spent between you legs, the louder your moans got, your hips helplessly bucking up to meet his fingers and mouth.

"Atta' girl," he murmured against you core. "Cum for me, love, I can feel you squeezing me."

Your movements got sloppier, raunchier, as your orgasm approached swiftly. It struck you like a bolt of lightning, your body overtaken with rapture and relief. Felix watched as you come down from your high, his fingers still working you over.

"You did so well f'me," He coaxed, finally removing his fingers from your core and scaling up your body, his moving to cling to yours and swallowing any soft moans you had left.

"Need you," You whispered as his lips nipped at yours.

"Need me or my cock?" He chuckled, drunk on you.

"You know what I mean," You replied, hands already to undo the buckle of his belt.

He stopped you before you could go any further. "I know, I just want to hear you say it, darling."

You rolled your eyes in annoyance, the smile on your lips indicating otherwise. His brows darted up, goading you on.

"Please?" He pressed and you exhaled in pleasure, in desire.

"Need you inside me, Felix." The corners of his mouth turned up into that smug smirk you've known for so long and he nodded in thanks.

"As you wish, my love."

He was rock hard, heavy and hot in your hands, precum dripping from his tip. You were just as wet and desperate as he reached down as he lined himself up with your entrance, sheathing himself inside you without another moment of hesitation. His arms caged your body under him as he hissed at the feeling. He gave you a a moment, letting you adjust to his size, his cock completely filling you up as he was buried deep inside of you.

"You're so tight," He praised as he kissed you, moaning into your mouth as he began to move. The pace of his hips started slow, gently rolling into yours, your clit brushing up into his pelvic bone at just the right angle. Felix tuned into how your moans falter when he hit just right spot, the sensation going straight to your core.

"Feels so good," You keened as you wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing him closer to you.

"Yeah? Tell me about it," He asked as he increased his pace, the speed of his pounding becoming relentless, evoking obscene noises from you. You wrapped your legs around his torso, heels digging into his back as you gave him the perfect angle to go even deeper as his cock hit your g-spot repeatedly.

You were sure your nails were going to leave a mark as they clawed into his shoulders while his hand slowly travelled to your core, rubbing fast circles on your swollen clit to help you reach your climax. You clenched around him in a manner so desperate, cunt fluttering around his cock. You didn’t have time to tell him you were cumming, screaming and sobbing as ecstasy hit you like a brick wall. You arched your back as his name fell from your lips again and again like a hopeless prayer. He followed suit seconds later, soaked with you as buried his head into the crook of your neck. He came with a strident cry as he bottomed out, filling you to the brim. You went limp under him as he panted weakly with his voice hoarse in your ear.

Still hazy from your climax your eyes widened as you saw Oliver walk into the maze. Felix didn't hear him, but he took note of your expression.

"What? Are you okay? What's-"

You interrupted him. "Oliver." Felix's head whipped around to the man standing behind him.

"Jesus fucking Christ!" Felix exclaimed and you pulled your legs from his torso and fixed your dress. Felix pulled up his trousers, buckling up his belt before fully turning to face Oliver.

"What are you doing here, mate? I mean, really?" You didn't say anything, composing yourself as Felix stood in front of you. Oliver opened his mouth to speak but Felix cut him off before he could explain himself.

"Actually I don't wanna fucking know, I've seen enough." He sighed and looked back to check on you.

“I think you should go,” You said to Oliver. “Before you do anything more to embarrass yourself.” The words were harsh as they came out of your mouth but you didn’t know what else to say. You watched as he walked away with his shoulders slumped, no doubt some guilt weighing them down.

“Are you alright?” Felix asked you, turning back around. You nodded still processing what had just happened as it seemed the champagne had worn off a while ago. You grabbed the bottle off the ground and held it up, offering it to Felix with a smile he didn't hesitate to reciprocate back.

"To Oliver's fucking party!" You laughed confused as ever, taking a swig of the bottle before he grabbed it from you.

"To Oliver's stupid fucking party."

[indulgentdaydream]

I added these two together. I hope you guys don’t mind! Since I added them together I’m also making this a two parter. My first one ever!!

Comparisons Pt.1

Jason Todd x Jealous!Insecure!Fem!Reader || Angst/Fluff || Word Count: 2,488

Part 2

Warnings: not proofread as of yet. Maybe will after i post who knows

After a six hour morning shift as a dishwasher, you were ready to head home.

It was the early afternoon, your shift having ended at 12. It was sunny. Warm, but not too hot. You were still in your work clothes, simple black pants and a black t shirt, your tote bag full of belongings over your shoulder. It was nice weather for the half hour walk you had back to your apartment. Better than the weather you’ve faired before.

Jason usually picked you up after your shifts, no matter where he was, as long as he wasn’t on patrol. He never wanted you to be seen in public near the Red Hood. He didn’t want you as a target.

“It’s bad enough I come straight here after patrol some nights.” He had said once.

“I’m just that irresistible, eh?” You had smiled.

He laughed, kissing your shoulder, “Damn right, baby.”

This day, though, you knew he was busy with a certain case he was working on. One he wouldn’t tell you about. He had been hard at work on it for the last few weeks, barely able to make much time for you. You didn’t mind. He tried as much as he could, even if it ended up being a five minute phone call, or a visit in the middle of night in between beaten-up thugs.

The sun hits your face and warms your skin in a comfortable way. Your headphones blocked out the Gotham noise, making the moment more enjoyable. Your favourite music instead of honking horns, sounds of engines, distant sirens, and people yelling.

You were stuck in your own world. You began thinking of asking Jason if he wanted to take you for a ride on his bike later. If he was free. You knew it’d be hard for him to say no. He loved taking you for rides. He didn’t have to say anything for you to know that.

You turn a corner, stuck in your head. Thinking about what you were going to do when you got home. You weren’t used to the morning shift.

You start your walk down the road, passing busy storefronts. Crystal shops. Pet stores. Mostly cafés and diners. You briefly considered working as a dishwasher at one of these places instead so you didn’t have to walk as far.

Maybe you and Jason could go to a diner tonight? That was a hopeful thought. There wouldn’t be time.

You’re walking past the third outdoor seating that takes up most of the sidewalk, small bistro tables hidden from the sun by large, white, beach-style umbrellas. Nearly identical to the two others you had passed, only different colour schemes.

You stare straight ahead, the extended seating narrowing the sidewalk and making it harder for people to walk around. You’re nearly halfway past the café when a hand reaches over breaching the shaded area and entering the sunlight to gently grasp onto your wrist.

You’re already twisting, ready to pull the mace Jason had bought you (though you more-so believe stolen from Batman himself, as you could see where he had scratched out the bat symbol on the canister) out of your tote bag and aim, when your eyes land on the owner of the arm, stretched across the thin barrier separating the seating from the sidewalk.

It’s Jason. His face hidden behind sunglasses, a small frown on his lips as he looks up at you from the shade. He waits for you to slip off your headphones before speaking.

“I was waving to you,” his thumb absentmindedly stroking the back of your hand. “You didn’t see?”

“Sorry,” You smile in relief at him, stepping closer to the barricade so as not to impede the flow of foot traffic. “I was more focused on getting around.”

There was someone sitting across from him. You didn’t think much of it at first. You saw red hair. That was regular with Jason, since he was always hanging around with Roy. Or Kory.

That’s who you thought it was. Roy. Nothing different at all. You turned to greet him, a smile ready on your face.

The second you clocked the pretty face, the waist-long, flowing, shiny red hair, your smile faltered.

Artemis gave you a sincere, friendly smile, her fingers swirling her straw in her cup.

Something churned in your stomach, “Hello.”

Jason’s grip on your wrist tightened slightly once, speaking up, “Why didn’t you call me to pick you up?”

You look back to him, “You said you were busy today.”

He frowns again. Technically, he had never said that. But it was true.

“Sit with us,” Artemis said, pointing behind her. “The entrance is there. We’re almost done anyways. Jason can drive you the rest of the way.”

You nodded, sending the best smile back to Artemis that you could muster in the moment.

As you approached, Jason reached towards the empty table behind him, flipping the chair and placing it at their own table, in between him and Artemis, facing where you had just been standing.

Something in the back of your mind noted how he didn’t even stand to do it, his face still pointed towards Artemis, his eyes concealed by his shades, hiding his expression. You sit down, placing your tote bag on the ground beside on, on your right, between you and Jason.

He picked it up and moved it onto the table without a word.

“This is my girlfriend,” Jason introduces you, his hands back on the table, folded in front of him. “This is Artemis. She’s helping me with my case.”

You nod, your mouth suddenly dry as she smiles at you again, “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” she smiles again, stretching out plump lips to present straight, shiny teeth.

Jason’s quick goes back to talking with her about whatever they had been talking about before you had walked past, wrapping things up.

You weren’t even capable of listening at this point.

You trusted Jason. You’d always trust Jason. This was for the case and nothing more. You knew that.

Jason had never really spoke about Artemis before. He had mentioned her once, in the early months of your relationship. You had done something. He had later asked you not to, saying he had a bad memory of it from his ex. He had never even mentioned her name. You knew he didn’t like talking about her.

However, you had been out with Jason and Roy at a bar once. Roy had briefly mentioned Jason’s ex, since she was included in the story. Jason had changed the topic fast after that. Then when he’d gotten up to use to washroom, you’d asked Roy to tell you more about her.

“Just what she looks like,” You reasoned. “So I can recognize her if need be.”

Roy hesitated in telling you, but he still did.

You trusted Jason. However, you were losing trust in Roy. He had never mentioned how gorgeous this woman is.

Her skin was smooth. Not a blemish or wrinkle in sight. You tried not to stare, but you couldn’t help it. Her hair was perfect. Her skin flawless. On further inspection you even realized she wasn’t wearing any makeup.

She wasn’t wearing any makeup and she looked that good?

Artemis lifted her coffee cup to her lips, nodding to something Jason was saying. Nothing you understood, anyways. Even if you were listening. You caught sight of her flexed arm as she finished off the drink. She was strong. Probably worked out nearly as much as Jason, but far more slim than he was. But in a good way.

She smiled again, wide, displaying her pearly whites. You ran a tongue over your own teeth, pursing your lips quietly in thought. Yours weren’t anywhere near that.

Your arms suddenly felt itchy as you looked over Artemis’ again. You looked down. You needed to take your eyes off of her. You were being stupid. Jason had broken up with her. Jason had picked you. He had been dating you for nearly a year and a half.

Your eyes drifted to your own arms, spots of acne along biceps. No definition in sight. Your under eye bags suddenly felt like they were on broadcast. Your face felt gritty, your hand coming up to absentmindedly scratch at the break out you had along your cheek. The frizz of your own hair visible in the corner of your eyes.

You looked back up, looking out at the busy street. Jason had chosen you. Jason loved you. Jason kissed you everyday and always made sure to tell you how much he loved you.

Except in the past few weeks while he had been busy with this case.

Had he been working with her this whole time?

You glanced back down as Jason placed his hand on your knee. He always did this when you guys were out. You look back up at him. He’s leaning on the table with her other arm, straight-faced, nodding along to something Artemis was saying. Even her voice is pretty. Her tone carrying a confidence you were failing to find in the moment.

You looked back down to your own legs, Jason’s thumb moving lightly back and forth over the side of your knee. He didn’t even know he was doing it. He never did.

You looked over to Artemis’ legs, hidden underneath a pair of jeans. Even then you could see how skinny hers were. Could see that her thighs weren’t spilling off the sides of the small metal bistro chair.

Soon enough, she was standing, beginning to say her goodbyes. You swallowed thickly. She was tall too. An amazon, you remember Roy mentioning. How could you forget.

The crop top she was wearing fit her nicely, showing off her toned stomach and even dipping down at the neckline to show some cleavage.

You looked away, your arms folding across your stomach, hiding your own torso.

She smiles at Jason. You quickly look to Jason and find him smiling, too. A genuine smile. One he had yet to give you while you’d been sitting here.

You’re his girlfriend, you remind yourself. He loves you.

She smiles at you and gives her farewell. You can only nod. You watch as she leaves.

God. She was nice, too. Nicer than you had wanted to be to her.

She walks in the direction you had come from. Her hair flowing behind her, an expensive-looking purse hanging from her shoulder. Most men walking past stop to turn and look at her. She ignored them all.

That never happened to you. In fact, Jason had been the first guy to ever even ask you out. You never understood why you were his choice. Not when he was able to pull women like that.

Jason pats your knee and pulls you out of your thoughts, “Want to get anything before we go?”

You can’t even face him. She’s perfect. Absolutely perfect. A fucking amazonian warrior.

You stare down at the table, catching sight of your own hands. Your nails worn from your shift at the restaurant, fingertips still wrinkled from the water.

Why the hell would he ever stay with you if she was still in his life?

“No.” You finally answer. “Thank you.”

He nodded, sighing as he fished out his wallet to pay for their coffees. He counts the bills and change, speaking with his head down, “How many times have I told you not to walk around with your headphones on?”

You lift your head to look at him, “What?”

He doesn’t look at you, his eyes still hidden by his shades. “Your headphones. You get so lost in your music you couldn’t even see me waving to get your attention.”

Your fingers curled around the edge of the table, “I was looking past you. I didn’t expect to see you—”

“I was calling your name, too. If your headphones were off then you could’ve heard me.” He tossed a twenty onto the table, leaning forward on his elbows to look at you. “Anyone could sneak up on you.”

You pursed your lips, your brows tightening at him.

Why did she get a smile and not me?

Jason gestured to your bag on the table, “Same with this. The hell you putting it on the floor for? You wouldn’t notice it was taken until far too late—”

“You don’t have to drive me,” you interrupted. “I’ll walk.”

Jason cocked his head slightly, looking genuinely curious, “Why? Car’s right over there—“

“I’ll walk.” You repeated. Firmly.

You needed the walk. You had to try and work the jealousy out of your mind before you got into it with Jason. You didn’t want to argue. Not now. Not in public.

Jason sighed, running a hand over his mouth, “Don’t be like that.” He started to stand, his keys jingling in his hand, “Come on.”

He reached to take your bag for you, a large brown envelope already in his hand. Whatever Artemis had given him.

You reached out and snatched it from his hand. You stood, throwing it over your shoulder. “I’ll walk.”

Jason stared at you for a moment, seemingly frozen in place.

He sighed through his nose, “What’s wrong?”

You took a deep breath trying to control your emotions. This was stupid. Jason had broken up with her for a reason. Had been dating you for the last year and a half for a reason.

Unfortunately, your mouth was working faster than your mind, “Don’t act like you didn’t start this.”

Jason pushed his shoulders back. He tried again, “What’s wrong?”

You shook your head, frustrated.

“Fine,” he stuffed his free hand in his pocket. “Just don’t be wearing your headphones while walking around.“

You were tired. Your shift had been long. You were worked up from your mind running all the comparisons between you and Artemis. It was still running them, you suppose, as otherwise you wouldn’t have said, “I guess you wouldn’t have to worry about her all the time. She can handle herself.”

Jason’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, his first shown emotion since that smile he’d given her, “Who?” Then they shot up almost just as quickly. “Artemis? Is that was this is about?”

You felt your face heat up in embarrassment at his realization. He’d figured you out.

His shoulders tensed, “Do you really not trust me?”

The way he had said it, his tone, has made it sound like the silliest thing in the world. Now it made you feel even stupider. Of course you trusted him.

You caught people staring in the corner of your vision. You ducked your head back down.

You gripped your tote bag at the straps over your shoulder and stormed off.

You heard Jason call your name as you passed by him again, on the other side of the barrier, headed back to your apartment.

Hope you guys enjoyed!! Pt 2 will be out later this week!!

Update!! Part 2 is here!!!

Part 2

[wild-jackalope]

summary :: Yuji decides to take his friends lack of sex life into his own hands (quite literally).

warning :: Normal AU, Yuji is extremely forward (highkey yandere), fingering, hand job, public sex, jealousy, also fighting.

note :: collage/univeristy AU. Reader and Yuji are in their second years of studying. This took way longer than what I thought it would.

“Who’re you texting?” Yuji asked.

“Nobody.” You giggled.

“C’mon, tell me.”

“This guy.” You grinned, tapping away at your phone. “He’s taking me out tonight.”

“Oh yeah, where’s he taking you?” Yuji asked, hands hidden deep in his pockets, peaking over your shoulder at the phone in your hands.

“Stop looking Yuji.” You twisted your body away from him, but he followed you.

“Come on, I should know where you’re going. What if this guy is a total jerk?”

“He won’t be,” You sigh, shaking your head. “He might even be the one.” You simply state. Though, ‘the one to take you to bed’ might’ve been a better description.

“You seriously think that?” Yuji’s tone goes limp, but his face still hangs a smile.

“You know that fancy place next to KFC? On the main road?” He nodded. “We’re going to be eating there.”

“That’s crazy, ‘cause I’m going to that KFC with Choso tonight.” He turned from your gaze. A telltale sign of fibbing that caused you to lift your brow.

“That so?” You asked, elbowing his side. He shrugged then nodded, his lips threatening to grin. “I can take care of myself, you know.” You added.

“You think so?” He jested, however the comment struck a heart string.

“Yes. Don’t you?” You carefully questioned.

He choked on your serious tone. “I, I guess. Well, maybe? You’re not super strong.”

“But I’m not a baby. I’m not helpless.”

He seemed to find that implication funny, because he laughed. “Is that why you call me when you’re scared to walk home in the dark?”

“Yuji that’s— that’s different. I’ve been talking to this guy, I know him.”

Seemingly confused by how this conversation lead to you being offended but not willing to back down he commented again. “Then why have I never heard about him?”

“You’ve never heard of him because I don’t like telling you about this stuff.” You added, softer, retracting your lips into a thin line when you saw how it made Yuji’s eyes narrow.

“Why not?” He asked, now taking offence himself.

“Because you mess things up for me.” You broke contact with his eyes, darting down to his shoes. “I don’t like being upset with you, Itadori, let’s just pretend I didn’t say anything.”

“Don’t call me by my last name.” He stated. You hiccuped at his harshness. "I just don't want you to waste your time on trash men."

Yuji had, without a doubt, been a stain on your dating life and by proxy, your sex life. Most commonly, he’d stall you to make you unfashionably late to a date. Other times he’d ask you to cancel them and spend time with him instead. Most recently he’d made the impression that you two were already a couple to a boy that pucked up the courage to tell you, you were cute.

It felt like you were being suffocated by his attention, and starved of other men’s.

“I need to leave soon, Yuji, let’s finish hanging out and not let this ruin our fun.”

Despite his unusual clinginess, you hated to fight with him.

“You know Itadori has the hots for you, right?” Nobara grimaced.

You laughed. “Don’t be stupid. He’s literally my bestie.”

“Just because you feel that way, doesn’t mean he does.” She warned. "Don't you see the way he clings to you? The way he hates when you hang around me or Megumi?"

"I guess. He's just like that though."

"He's like that for you, girl."

"But I feel that way about him, too. I don't love it when he spends all his time with his brother, or watching movies. I prefer when we hang out." Nobara stared at you with narrow eyes and an expression that could only be described as her trying to figure out if you were dumb, or just blissfully ignorant. Or both. "When you're super close with someone, that's just the way it is."

"Sure, girl. Sure."

To say Yuji was your friend would be an understatement. Best friend wasn’t quite right either. If there was another a higher title, it would belong to him. He was the first to call when you had some tea to spill, first to text when you didn’t know what to wear out, your go to man in an emergency.

To Yuji, the term best friend didn’t even come close to describing how he felt about you. You were his everything.

Later in the day, his phone pinged, you'd posted something. It was an image of you in a glimmering dress on your Instagram story. The hem ended just above your knees, and clung to your body like wet fabric.

The sight was utterly cloying, though his heart squeezed painfully to know you were dressed that way for a man he didn’t even know. He screenshotted the image, adding it to his photos.

What Yuji hadn't thought to consider, was the lace set hiding beneath the dress. You were hoping for the best. That was all.

Upon arriving to your date, you were greeted with an aloof ‘hello’, a small peak into how the rest of your date would continue.

Yuji hadn’t managed to convince his brother to join in stalking your date. Suggesting that he leave you to your date and that he shouldn’t get involved in your love life, citing that it’ll messy your friendship.

He promptly ignored Choso’s advice.

So, Yuji sat next door to your restaurant chewing on some hot chips with an unimpressed look on his face. He opened his photos, gazing at you in your dress. He swallowed thickly, forcing his phone down. He just wanted to be sure you were okay. That was it. He wouldn't get in the way. He'd rather see you with someone else, than be mad at him.

His churning gut seemed to disagree with that thought, though.

After being seated at a booth, you smiled kindly at your date. “How was your day?”

“Fine.” He answered curtly. You grimaced. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to suggest a last minute date to a guy you’d only been texting for a day (yes, you'd lied to Yuji about know him). But God you just wanted to get laid.

“What did you get up to?”

“Nothing much.”

This was going nowhere.

It had taken an hour before you’d finally given up on making conversation. You ate, spent some minutes in the bathroom to kill time, paid and left. How embarrassing, you'd come all this way and put so much effort into how you looked only to be blown off. It made you wish you'd been kinder to Yuji.

You picked up your phone, and sent a text to him.

‘Hey, did you end up eating next door? I’m finished with my date.’

‘I did yeah. How’d it go?’ He responded.

‘Average.’

Yuji’s chest filled. He'd been blessed with a second chance and now was his moment to swoop in and cheer you up.

You sat outside, the night air whipping at your exposed skin. You hadn’t prepared for the cold. A cardigan would’ve ruined your look, after all. You assured yourself before leaving that you’d be in a warm restaurant for half the night, then be spending the rest in his or your bed. There was no need to layer up.

Yuji spotted you, calling your name before taking a seat on the bench you sat at. “Hey, how’d you go?” He beamed. His brightness felt like a layer of warmth around your skin.

“Hey Yuji.” You sighed, finding his smile contagiously reaching your lips.

“Where’s the guy? Didn’t he wait for you?” He looked over the streets, glazing over the lack of strangers around.

“Nope.”

“What an asshole.” He pat your knee, leaving his hand there as a supportive contact.

"You can say it now." You murmured into the palm of your hands.

"Say what?"

"I told you so."

He chuckled, throwing an arm around your shoulder. “Don’t let it get you down. Yeah? His loss.”

“I know. I know.” You nodded, tiredly. “He’s not worth my time. I just- ugh.” You rubbed your eyes tiredly, not caring to maintain your eye makeup any longer.

“You’re really upset, aren’t you?” He asked, the hand resting on your knee clenched.

“Not for the reason you think, Yuji…” You shamefully murmured.

“So he wasn’t the one?”

“Of course not. I just… wanted to be with someone tonight.” You exhaled, letting the confession rise off your chest.

“You can be with me.” He added, a cheerful sombreness to his tone. “We’ll hang out.”

“Not like that, Yuji.” You cleared your throat. “I- uh. Never mind.”

“What?” He pressed, searching for the confession in your eyes. The hand cradling your knee edged inward to the softer side of your thigh, the movement went unnoticed by you.

“I’m- well.” You exhaled. The two of you were best friends, you could be honest with him. “I’m horny, Yuji. I haven't been able to get laid in forever because- well.” You reframed, now wasn’t the time to bring up an old argument. “I wanted to fool around with this guy.” You finished.

“We can do that too.” He cut, quickly. His hand fell further, you noticed only because it made you burn.

“What?” You shifted, but his hand still remained.

“That guy wouldn’t have gotten the job done. He was probably a loser.”

“Yuji- what did you just say?”

“If you just want to feel good, I can help.” Again his hand inched inward, now flirting with the hem of your dress. Your legs flinched open, the quick reflex tightened Yuji’s chest and his pants.

“Itadori…” You warned, though it passed your lips as a weak willed relent.

“Don’t call me by my last name.” He’d come so close now, breath patting your nape.

"We're in public." You huffed, eyeing his thick, tanned hand. His fingers cratered against your skin, kneading the flesh with a stunted hunger. He was attempting to be smooth, but he'd yearned for this too long.

"Nobody is around. Its dark. You said you're horny, didn't you? I can help. Let me help." He trailed further.

Yuji made contact to your clothed sex. His pinky finger pressed into you cautiously. You’d immediately lost all reserve. Your pussy grabbed at your brain, shoving away the regretful thoughts and forcing your legs to open wider.

With nothing but your body’s reaction to guide him, Yuji’s fingers began to rub up and down your cunt outline, focusing on the bump that was your clit.

“How does that feel?” He asked quietly.

“Weird.” You uttered, grasping at your own thighs, struggling to keep your legs open to him.

“Why?” He leaned closer.

“You’re my friend, Yuji.” You looked anywhere but at the boy.

“Why should that matter?”

You fumbled an answer. “Because friends don’t do this.”

“Some do.”

“But not us…” You drawled.

Yuji ignored you and nosed your cheek, closing in on your lips. By this point, he leaned so close that you had no room to back away.

His tongue licked your bottom lip and you grunted at the thought of it being further south. He swallowed the sound, having his free hand cradle your neck and pull you into him.

With a shameless passion, Yuji overran your mouth. His hand stunted at your pussy, his thoughts wrongly focused on your locked lips. You whined and he devoured that sound from you too.

“Yuji,” You pushed against his hard chest.

“Sorry.” He licked his lips, wiping away your shared saliva that lingered on the back of his sleeve. He gazed at the area covered by your dress. “Can I see?” He asked. Unsureness flashed in your gaze. "Please?"

You’d become completely obsequious to his advances. “Just for a second.” Anything to get him to start palming you again.

Yuji leaned, pulling up your dress and revealing the sight he’d only dreamed of. He moaned. You gaped, now keenly aware of your surroundings.

“Fuckin’ hot.” He murmured. The words made you gush.

Now his eyes couldn’t be ripped from your underwear, mentally taking screenshots to save for himself. He’d never need to watch porn again.

Another thought crossed his mind and his brow furrowed. He sat up, coming dangerously close to your face.

“You were going to let another guy see you like this?” His palm pressed hard against your clit. You twitched.

“You’re acting like I cheated on you, Yuji…” You wearily commented.

Shit, he’d almost ruined it.

He kissed your neck, running his tongue cross your pulse. It hadn’t completely distract you from his possessive question. “Maybe we should stop.” You whispered.

emphatically, his hand pushed past the fabric of your underwear. His index and middle finger parted around your clit, drawing this thick fingers down with your nerve bundle sandwiched between.

“Yuji!” You breathed, hands shooting to grasp his forearm.

“Shouldn’t say things if you don’t want them.” He murmured. His fingers dove to your entrance, pulling slick up and around your clit, rubbing the juices into your skin. “You want this, don’t you? Want me?”

You avoided the answer and his hand halted.

“Say you want me.” He uttered coolly.

Your hips stuttered, but Yuji didn’t budge. Holding you at orgasmic gunpoint, your lips parted. “I want you, Yuji.”

He continued with a new found passion, drawing his fingers up and down your clit with a kind pace, no longer tantalising you.

His lips pressed against your jaw and cheek until they found your mouth. He tongued you once more, loving the way you opened yourself to him and how he utterly devoured you. You couldn’t keep up with his passion.

Your legs clamped, but he pulled you open again with one hand, continuing to slide between your clit and eating the moans it ripped from you.

The orgasm hit you quickly, faltering fast through your legs and feet. You groaned into Yuji’s mouth, body going limp. His hand quickened, adding pressure to your suddenly raw clit. Your hips retracted.

“I came! I came.” You broke, tapping on his forearm. He halted, wide eyes gazing at your post-orgasm state. He wished he could’ve recorded every second of him making you cum.

You pushed against his forearm and, regretfully, he pulled his hand away from your sex. You watched with wide eyes as he brought his pruned fingers to his mouth and licked at the slick covering them.

You were too staggered to utter a word.

“Do you feel better now?” He asked.

“I, uhm, yeah.” You nodded, staring at the ground with glazed eyes. You'd just cum on the hand of your closest friend.

“Good.” He added.

“Yeah.”

Awkward tension stabbed at the both of you. As if knowing your thoughts would start to circle around regret, Yuji continued to speak. “I’ll drive you back to my dorm, we can hang out now that you're done with your date.”

“Okay, yeah. Sure.” You spoke breathlessly.

The ride home was ear ringingly silent.

Yuji couldn't find an excuse to talk and you were too booked out with the thoughts racing your mind to respond with anything but a 'mhm.'

Nobara was right. Yuji wasn't the type to help a friend get off just because, right? He must've liked you or at the very least lusted after you. Were you okay with either of those options?

Inside his dorm room, you planted yourself on his floor, mind still wrecked. He eased next to you, finding the words to break the glass-like silence.

Worry creased his face. He came onto you too soon, too fast. "Do you want to pl-"

"So do you like me?" You asked, eyes wide with tension.

"Yeah." He grinned shyly. "Wasn't that obvious?"

Yes. It was. It fucking was. You were just as blind as a deaf bat with cataracts.

"Do you... like me too?"

"I, I don't know." You threw your head back and grunted. "Shit."

"Don't stress, it's fine."

"Not really." You couldn't stop thinking about the fact he made you cum less than an hour ago and you didn't know if you liked him? You loved him, sure, but did you love him? He was handsome, funny, good with hands apparently. "How long?" You asked.

"A while." He scratched the back of his neck. "A long while, actually."

You were surely going to hell. Here your friend was, spilling his heart out to you and all you could think about was having his hands touch more of you. You couldn't help but eye his crotch, was he still hard from before? You couldn't tell.

"What are you thinking about?" He asked. Your eyes darted to his face.

"Well," You fiddled with your index finger. "You never got off, so I feel bad."

His cheeks flushed. "Me? No, that's fine. We should talk. Don't worry about that."

"Okay," Your hand slipped to his hip, resting on his side. "Keep talking, then." Hell for sure.

"Well I, uh, I always thought you were pretty," Your fingers skimmed over the elastic of his pants. "And hot." He added, eyes lidding.

"Does anyone else know?" You asked.

"Probably." He sucked in through his teeth as your hand began to retreat. "I mean, Fushiguro is pretty perceptive. I think Choso knows too."

You traced his v-line with your fingernail. He'd already gone hard.

"kugisaki, probably. Are you-?"

"Just keep talking. I'm listening."

"I… I realised maybe a year ago." You slipped a finger under his pants. "You started dating. I hated it. I thought I'd get over it but-" You raked through his pubes, inching closer to his shaft. He exhaled steadily. "I heard you started having sex. I tried to butt in whenever I could after that."

"Jealous." You stated, finally sliding over his dick.

"Big time." He attempted to steady himself again, hands clenching into white fists. "Was it good with them? The sex?"

"Don't ask stupid questions, Yuji."

"Fuck. Sorry." He exhaled. "We got super close, I just, needed more of you."

You gripped him and he rutted into your hand.

"Love you a lot." He huffed. You gripped him harder. "F-Fuck."

He fucked your hand carefully. Scared that if he did it too fast or hard, you'd let go and leave him. You joined in the motion, spreading the pre from his head over his shaft and pumping him.

He'd gone wordless, mouth hanging open whilst uttering gasping grunts. His eyes rolled to you, deep brown's watching you.

"Stop staring..." You muffled, hand covering your face.

"You're so beautiful." He grunts. "Kiss me."

You do, and just like before he pashes you with greedy intent. You pull away before he can kiss you too deeply, he follows you, grunting against your parting lips.

"Feel good?" You ask.

"Feels amazing, baby. A little faster, please." He bucks his hips again until you comply, stroking him quicker. "Perfect, that's perfect." His grunts become breathy, turning into weak moans.

You've never seen Yuji like this before, the only comparison being him puffed after working out too hard. But this, you've never seen. You loved every twitch of his body and every noise spurting from his mouth.

You rubbed your index finger over his head and his hand grabbed at your thigh, squeezing you hard. "Fuck." He cursed.

Tortuously, you began to focus on rubbing up and down his tip. His breaths became rapid, chest rising and falling ridiculously fast.

"Fuck baby, don't stop."

You mewled at pain his tight grip caused you and his dick twitched. You leaned against his shoulder pressing your face to his neck. "Love you, Yuji."

Those words sent him over the edge. He cursed again, louder than before and you knew by the way he squeezed your thigh it would bruise tomorrow. You felt hot spurts of semen leak onto your fingers as you let him fuck your hand until his orgasm passed and his loud curses settled into fucked out whimpers. He'd gone limp now, panting.

You let go of him, causing Yuji to utter another weak groan. Pulling your hand out, you gazed at his cum coating your skin.

He watched you bring it up to your mouth and lick some with the end of your tongue. He was suddenly hard all over again. He grunted at the arousal.

Salty, you thought.

"Let's date." He stated, still breathy. You opened your mouth to speak but he continued. "I don't have to be your boyfriend, not yet. We'll just go out. On dates."

"Yuji,"

"You could stay over more often, we could watch movies, cuddle." His eyes slipped over your cum covered hand. "We could do this more. You don't have to love me right away, but at least give us a shot. I-"

"Yuji, shush," You sighed, grinning. You laid against the floor, somewhat breathless yourself. "Let's date." You nodded.

He pumped a fist in the air, quietly uttering a victory. You laughed. "You're going to wish you fell for me sooner, I promise. You'll see what a good boyfriend I can be."

"So you are my boyfriend now?" You jested, raising a suspicious look at him.

"I will be." He stated. "You'll see."

[1980shorrorfilm]

every road i know

click here. resources for palestine, congo, sudan, and other countries.

pairing…ellie williams x gn!reader

in which…ellie thought it was time to solidify your relationship. she might have been wrong.

before you read…inspired by the strangers, minus the killing n stuff. modern day fic. angst with comfort <3

the autumn night is silent, save for the occasional creak of the old miller’s cabin settling into its nighttime routine. you listen to the wind whistling outside, through the tall pines surrounding the small wooden home. 

it’s a lonely town, the nearest house a few miles down the road, something vastly different from your shared apartment in the city. 

ellie started bringing you here after joel had let it collect endless dust and cobwebs, the woman cleaning it all up for you. whenever life got too busy, chaotic, or hard, this way your getaway. peace. just you and her and the nature that surrounded you.

now, it feels as though it’s purgatory. 

the fireplace flickers softly, its glow dancing on the wooden walls, but the warmth couldn’t seem to comfort you. not right now. ellie sits in front of the flames, her silhouette outlined by the orange gentle light.

she has yet to utter a single word to you. the car ride here was silent. even the radio on mute, because ellie couldn’t find the simple strength to turn it up.

the moment is replaying in her mind, over and over, the sad smile you had given her burned into her memory. the thing she’s had anxiety about for the past month. proposing, to you.

the dark velvet box holding the special ring, now lying on the coffee table beside her. a stark reminder of the event.

you’re sat on the couch, chewing your lip, a rose petal in your hand. it’s soft, you find yourself stroking the smooth flower. they cover, nearly, the whole cabin. ellie had thrown the petals around before you had arrived together, trying to make it appear as romantic as possible. 

it’s not her strong suit, her appreciation toward you shown in much different ways than typical lovey-dovey things you see on television, but tonight it felt right. long candles garnish whatever surface she could put them on, yellow and smelling like vanilla. they’re not lit. 

she assumed she’d spark them when you came back from the long day you had. one that started with your favorite breakfast, ellie waking up extra early to make it as perfect as she could. and she did, you made sure to compliment her repeatedly.

then she took you downtown, viewing places you rarely visited, spending more time admiring you than the other pretty views. what occupied most of your time, was going to a museum she took you to on your first date, reminiscing on how awkward you two were compared to now.

she swears that’s her favorite place, and not just because she’s a nerd, because she now associates it with you. 

ellie had took you out to dinner, to your favorite restaurant, hardly eating and claiming she just wasn’t hungry. that was a lie, she just didn’t think she could keep food down. her nerves were washing over her, multiplying when you had finished, and you took a walk near the river, beneath the red trees that blew softly above you.

you had felt her pause in place, holding her warm hand, and you thought maybe the tie had come undone on her sneakers. she had washed them the day prior until her fingers pruned, you found it odd for ellie but didn’t say anything. but that wasn’t the problem. she stared at you like she saw a ghost, and it worried you.

you almost thought this was the end, she was about to tell you those four dreaded words. we need to break up. oh, the idea terrorizes you. that, however, also wasn’t it.

she had whispered inaudible words to herself, then mumbling ‘okay, okay, okay.’

you thought the woman was breaking before you, concern in your eyes, holding her hand tight. then she gulped, trying to get out the rehearsed words that seemed to vanish the longer she stood in your presence. 

how much you mean to her. from the very moment you two got paired up for a project that she insisted she’d do all the work for, but you fought back, finding yourself in her bedroom the entire week, the girl studying you more than the work laid out before her.

she found herself by your side all the time afterward.

she needed to be by your side. 

she doesn’t know how she lived before you, and if she could live without you— no, insisting she could not live with you. she simply wouldn’t have the will. waking up to a bed you didn’t occupy, not hearing your genuine laughter to her most idiotic jokes, not being able to hold you when you experienced the hardest day of your life.

she couldn’t have that. she needs this…you and her, to last forever. so, she asked those four words that you weren’t prepared for. will you marry me?

to which, you didn’t say yes.

you couldn’t. you love ellie, more than you could ever put into words, you swear on your life that you do, and it didn’t at all reflect your feelings for her. you were just…paralyzed. by fear, uncertainty, and the weight of expectations that you couldn’t hold up to for her. every single insecurity, hitting you at once, in the worst moment it possibly could.

you had said her name in a weak whisper, and ellie gulped, realizing what was happening. a tear slipped from your eye, that she quickly wiped away, reassuring you it was okay. that you’re okay. putting you before her, a habit of hers. bits of her broken heart being blown away in the cool wind that hits you, while she cradles yours. 

you walked to the car together in silence, a suffocating fog. a silence that seemed to last forever.

the tension between you two is almost palpable, both of your minds are currently a whirlwind of heavy emotions. a gentle crackle of the fire and ellie shifting in place, makes you finally turn your attention to her. “ellie,” you say her name softly, voice strained as you finally break the unbearable quiet. “can we talk?”

her gaze remains on the fiery flames, her shoulders tense. “we don’t have to,” she replies quietly, “i get it.”

“i don’t think you do,” you lowly say, heart aching at the mere thought of all the negativity running through her precious head, doubts about herself and your relationship. that’s the last thing you could ever want.

ellie swallows thickly, “it doesn’t matter.”

you watch her get up, turning her back to you as she leaves the room. your eyes trail her to the kitchen before you follow her. she doesn’t glance at you as you lean against the nearby counter, watching her grab an expensive champagne bottle. 

you assume she bought it just for tonight, she wouldn’t drink it any other time. she won’t even touch a glass of wine. she pops it open, pouring it into one of the two glasses beside it. “i don’t…” you begin to say as she hovers over the other glass, ellie nodding in response. you’re afraid if you drink it you’ll throw up all the nerves inside your system. 

“i got your favorite ice cream…if you want that instead,” ellie mentions, tapping her finger on the glass, “went to like…3 different stores. couldn’t find the brand you like.”

she ends the sentence with an attempt at a laugh, finding it so silly now. all the effort, for what? humiliation? pity? she sips on the disgusting drink like it would make her feel better. the only other thing that helps her in trying times, is you; and that’s not exactly possible in this scenario.

“do you…” she pauses, staring at the liquid as she swirls it around, “do you want this…us?”

“of course i do,” you answer her without hesitation, taking a step closer to her, but still out of reach. “it’s not that, ellie,” you tell her, trying to figure out how to inform her it’s you and not her, without sounding like a poor cliche overused excuse. 

“it’s just…we’re young…im scared you’re making a mistake,” your voice wavers near the end, ashamed to admit such a thing, that you are her mistake. ellie looks at you like you just spit in her face. she doesn’t know how to interpret the comment, she slightly feels insulted that you would think that she’s making a ‘mistake.’ 

this isn’t putting a shirt on inside out. this isn’t forgetting to turn the light off when you leave a room. it’s not tripping over your step. it’s her committing herself to you, after five beautiful years attached to you, something she wants hundreds more years of, if that were possible. nothing about that is a mistake.

you’re the love of her life. cementing that is not a fucking mistake. 

“is that how you feel?” she flips the script, putting the spotlight on you, feeling like you’re burning beneath it at the accusation. “what?” you whisper, “n-no…no ellie.”

you can’t read her expression, she’s swallowing the rest of her drink, blankly staring ahead. 

she ignores your response, “i’ll drive us home in the morning. you should get some sleep.”

she turns away, placing her glass carefully in the sink, resting there for a moment. your eyes are boring into the back of her head as if you could read the thoughts inside it. so many bad thoughts. 

you push yourself forward, taking a few quiet steps to her. you plant your feet behind her, wrapping your arms around her body. her breathing is slow, her figure painfully stiff, hugging a tree and not your person. so solid despite the endless embraces where she would melt into you.

you murmur her name, holding her tighter. 

ellie can’t resist you.

her hands reach for yours, resting against the center of her torso. her fingers brush against you softly, her breath hitching slightly, before letting out a sigh she’s held in for hours. 

just for this moment, the tension settles beneath the old floorboards of the cabin, giving you air to breathe instead of holding in. your hug is so tender, ellie could be lured to sleep by it. and her body is so warm, you’d rather die than pull away.

you wish it could last forever, and the hours prior could be forgotten. 

then her phone rings from her back pocket, vibrating against you, and she shifts. you let go, biting your lip, watching her fish the device out. joel. assumingly calling to congratulate her. ellie wishes she never told him, because fuck, this is going to be awkward. 

“i uh…should take this,” she whispers, not sparing you a glance when she walks away. you hear the front door open, then shut. you can’t help but walk back into the living room, standing before the window and peeking at ellie, who sat on the porch steps. 

you can’t see her face, her head down, a glow from a cigarette, and grey smoke surrounding her figure. it’s clearly not a happy conversation, there was no sugarcoating what had happened. it pains you. 

you turn back around, following the rose petals that scattered the floor, all the way down the hall, and stopping at the bathroom. you open the door, turning the light on, eyes falling on the several small candles on the edges of the bathtub. red, grey, and purple, they decorated the space. 

ellie really tried to make tonight special.

you stand idly, taking a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, staring at yourself with shame. a dog with its tail tucked between its legs, knowing it did something so drastic, that the only person they love, finds it hard to look at them. 

you quickly turn away. 

you run the bath and wait, tugging your top and pants off, kicking them to the side. you strip naked when it fills up completely, steam radiating from the water. you step in, adjusting to the high temperature, before sinking into it. it almost burns you, but not in a way that you mind. you just don’t care right now. 

ellie is the only thing on your mind. you wonder if she’s talking about you, openly questioning where your relationship lies, if she thinks it’s even going to last after today. 

before you know it, a single tear is falling down your face.

you hug your knees, turning your head and laying your cheek against them. you stare out the open bathroom door, to the wood paneled wall, a framed photo of a deer hung on it.

you forget to blink, spacing out, not noticing the creaking of the front door or the floor. not until ellie is within your view, pausing in the doorway, looking down at you. you’re crying to yourself.

her expression softens, not saying anything when she joins you, kneeling beside the bathtub and touching your face. her thumbs wipe the salty tears from beneath your eyes, but they don’t stop. 

“i’m scared, ellie,” you say just above a whisper, ellie only hears you because of how quiet the cabin is. besides the repetitive dripping from the sink. “i’m gonna fail you…” you continue, your voice now giving up on you, “scared’m gonna ruin this…ruin us…you’re so good, ellie— i just —i couldn’t say yes.”

you choke into a sob, her green eyes now glistening with unshed tears. “oh baby,” she says so softly, giving you the time to process your emotions, to let the tears fall while she holds you. 

“i can’t…” she stops, gulping and sighing, “i can’t change what you think…but i can promise you that nothing could ever change my mind about you.”

her grip on you is firm, reaffirming, as she continues to speak, “we can wait…i’m willing to wait forever for you. i will show you no matter what happens, i will still love you— i will always love you. i just needed…need you to know that.”

very faintly, your lips twitch upwards slightly, ellie mirroring you the moment she notices. “you’re enough for me,” she says, “just you. that’s all i want.”

ellie is, unfortunately, right; it doesn’t change the tainted mindset you have. that, however, has nothing to do with her. you don’t doubt the things she tells you, you’ve never felt more love from someone in your whole life, and you know for a fact that you never will.

and that’s why it brings you relief, to listen to her, understanding her point of view rather than your own, and the cruel demon on your shoulder whispering harsh words into your ear. 

ellie williams is the angel. 

it’s not the first time she’s eased the anxiety taunting you, and it will not be the last. she will always be there, rain or shine, you pushing her away or letting her in. she truly means what she says. you’re enough for her. and soon, you will accept that for yourself.

“i really want to hug you right now.”

ellie chuckles, a lightness in the air as she gets up, grabbing a beige towel. you stand, letting her wrap it around you, shivering at the coolness in the air. not caring about the water droplets still coating your body, ellie’s arms are quickly around you, her palm on the back of your head, cradling it gently.

you instantly feel warm again, at peace.

after the moment of serenity ends, ellie is leading you to the bedroom. she grabs your pajamas from your still-packed bag, letting you put them on while she does the same. your eyes fall on her pale back, watching her throw a white tee on, looking away when she turns her head at you. 

“was thinking about leaving at 8…wanna beat the traffic,” she says, hoping the statement doesn’t go back to making things awkward. just in case, she adds, “can stop at that pancake place you love.”

you can’t ignore the glum undertones of the suggestion, but you still give her a smile, barely modding your head.

you sit in bed, ellie exiting the room to turn off every light in the lonely cabin, leaving you with your thoughts. you hate it. thinking about how happy the two of you were coming here, compared to you leaving. you don’t even want to leave. you want to shut out the rest of the world, but more importantly, your mind.

how differently things would be right now, if you could just do that.

your eyes meet hers when she enters the room again, and you debate what you’re about to ask her. you can’t help it. “can i see it?”

“hm?” “the ring.”

ellie looks at you, freezing for a moment, stuttering, “y-yea…sure.”

again, she exits the room, grabbing the velvet small box on the table, the one she avoided even sparing a glance at just a minute ago. then she jogs back, scratching the back of her neck. she’s nervous as she approaches you, placing it in your open hands, like it’s a baby. 

it’s the first time you’re getting a decent look at it, having been unable to observe it during the moment, and it’s beautiful. it’s simple, yet the green sapphire is so elegant, resembling the way ellie’s eyes look beneath the sun. you smile at it. 

“i…can’t return it…if that’s what you’re wondering.”

“i’m not,” you tell her, “it’s gorgeous, ellie.”

you don’t want to give it back to her. it feels…so right, in your possession, that you can’t help but nervously slide it down your finger. there’s a bittersweet smile on your face at how perfect it is. how when you look at it, ellie is the first thing to come to your mind. 

your lover, for eternity. your lover that swears to you, that your need for her is as mutual as her need for you, no matter the circumstances, it is permanent. that your worries are just that. worries— self-doubt, and bitter thoughts about yourself, that are only present in the moment. they won't last forever. not like you and her.

with hesitance, you take it off, avoiding her gaze when you give it back to her. “i’ll be ready,” you promise, your finger oddly feeling so lonely despite only wearing it for a minute. “i will…i will be,” you find yourself mumbling, ellie getting closer and grabbing your hands.

“hey, i meant what i said,” her thumbs stroke your skin, reminding you once more, “i can wait forever for you.”

and she means it.

[pucksandpower]

Ties That Bind

Charles Leclerc x royal!Reader + Max Verstappen x sister!Reader

Summary: life as Princess of the Netherlands is pretty perfect but when health issues become a (literal) royal pain, you discover a familial connection that will change your life forever

Warnings: struggles with infertility, child abandonment, serious health issues, medical procedures and treatments

This is what happens when I’m insane enough to try juggling writing an 8k+ word fic with studying in medical school

The night was a cascade of ethereal snowflakes, each one glistening under the pale moonlight, landing gracefully upon the earth. The silver car glided along the road, its headlights illuminating the path through the thick curtain of snow, like two piercing eyes navigating through sorrow.

Inside, Prince Frederik of the Netherlands drove in silent contemplation, the weight of the day’s news pressing heavily on his heart. Beside him, Princess Marianne stared out of the frosted window, her reflection capturing swollen eyes that glistened with fresh tears. Her fingers trembled slightly, crumpling yet another now irrelevant medical report indicating one more failed IVF attempt.

“I thought this time would be different,” Marianne whispered, her voice quivering. “I truly believed it.”

Frederik’s grip on the wheel tightened. He turned to his wife, pain evident in his eyes. “I know, my love. I know.”

As they drove, Frederik’s eyes caught a glimpse of something unusual by the side of the road. “What’s that?” He murmured, slowing the car.

Marianne followed his gaze. “It looks like a bundle ... stop the car!”

Frederik brought the vehicle to a halt. They both jumped out and hurried over to the mysterious object. As they approached, Marianne gasped. “Oh my God, Frederik ... it’s a baby!”

She quickly bent down to scoop the tiny, shivering form into her arms. The baby’s skin was cold, blue lips barely parting for shallow breaths as the thin pink blanket wrapped around it did little to fight the chill. “Who could do such a thing?” Marianne cried, holding the child close for warmth.

Frederik’s face hardened. “We need to get her to a hospital. Now.”

Back in the car, Marianne cradled the baby, trying to transfer her warmth. “Stay with us,” she murmured, tears spilling. “Please, stay with us.”

As they sped towards the hospital, Frederik reached over and held Marianne’s free hand. “It'’s a sign,” he whispered. “After everything we’ve been through today ... finding her like this ... it’s fate.”

Marianne looked down at the baby, her fingers gently brushing the soft wisps of hair on the child’s head. “Our little miracle in the snow,” she whispered back.

Frederik smiled faintly, squeezing Marianne's hand. “Yes, our snow angel. We’ll take care of her and she’ll take care of us.”

***

“You know, every time it snows, it feels like the world is celebrating the day we found you,” your father, now King Frederik, remarks, gazing out of the vast palace windows at the flurries descending from the sky.

You smile, reaching for a delicate pastry from the breakfast spread laid out before you. “And every snowflake reminds me of the warmth of this family that saved me from the cold.”

Your mother, Queen Marianne, hair now threaded with silver, gives you a loving glance. “Our snow angel, right when we needed you most.”

“Speaking of snow,” you muse, “I’m thinking of wearing the ice-blue gown for tonight’s gala. Thoughts?”

Your father raises an eyebrow, “For the Children’s Foundation event? Perfect choice. It complements the theme and matches the tiara your mother has picked for you to wear.”

You grin, “Who knew you had such a fashion sense?”

Your mother chuckles, “It’s a king thing. But he’s right. And with your sapphire necklace, you will be the talk of the gala.”

You take a sip of your tea, thinking of the evening ahead. “I want to ensure my speech captures the essence of our foundation’s work. It’s more than just another royal event, this is about making a real difference.”

Your father nods, “It always is for you. That genuine desire to impact lives, it’s how I know you will be a great Queen one day.”

You blush slightly, “I learned from the best.”

Your mother, with a hint of mischief, remarks, “And speaking of learning, have you decided on a dance partner for the first waltz? There’s quite a line-up available.”

You laugh, “Oh, Mom! Let’s not start matchmaking before breakfast is over.”

Your father joins in the mirth, “Give her a break, Marianne. Our snow angel must not melt.”

***

The regal hallways echo with the gentle patter of your heeled footsteps. Lately, the palace, your lifelong sanctuary, feels more like a maze. A sudden wave of dizziness makes you pause, leaning against a gilded wall for support.

“You okay there?” a soft voice calls. It’s your mother, her face etched with worry.

“Just a bit dizzy,” you mumble, attempting a reassuring smile.

She hurries over, her gown flowing. “You’ve been looking pale these past few days.”

Before you can reply, a sharp sensation pricks your nose. Touching it, you’re shocked to see blood on your fingertips. “Oh no,” you whisper, panic creeping into your voice.

Your mother’s eyes widen. “We need to see a doctor.”

“But the gala—”

“Forget the gala!” She interrupts. “Your health comes first.”

***

Inside the royal clinic, the room is a tense silence. Your father paces while your mother sits beside you, holding your hand tightly.

The family physician finally arrives, his expression somber. “Your Highness, Your Majesties,” he begins, “we’ve run several tests.”

“And?” Your father demands, halting his restless walk.

You take a deep, shaky breath, bracing yourself.

The doctor hesitates for a split second. “You have aplastic anemia.”

The room seems to close in. The words hang heavily, turning the opulent clinic cold.

Your mother’s voice trembles, “What does that mean?”

“It’s a condition where the bone marrow doesn’t produce enough new blood cells. This leads to fatigue, higher risk of infections, and uncontrolled bleeding,” the doctor explains.

Your mind races. The symptoms make sense now — the fatigue, dizziness, the nosebleed.

Your father’s face hardens, searching for hope. “What’s the treatment?”

The doctor looks grim, “The most effective treatment at this severity is a bone marrow transplant. We will need to find a matching donor.”

Your mother’s grip tightens on your hand, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “We’ll find one. We have to.”

Your father nods. “We will move mountains if we have to.”

You muster a small smile, drawing strength from your parents. “One snowstorm at a time.”

***

“How long does it usually take to find a match?” Youu inquire, voice trembling ever so slightly.

Dr. Van der Meer, the lead hematologist on your case, sighs, “It varies, Your Highness. Some find a match within their family, others from the global database. It can take days or even months.”

Your mother breaks in desperately, “But surely, with our resources, we can expedite the process?”

Your father adds, “Every avenue, every connection we have at our disposal is yours to use, Doctor.”

Dr. Van der Meer nods, “I understand the urgency, Your Majesties. We’ve already started to search within the national database. Meanwhile, we advise immediate family to get tested first.”

You interject, a sense of realization dawning, “But I’m adopted. Our genetic makeup differs.”

Your father and mother exchange a heavy look, the weight of your situation pressing down on them.

“We still have a vast network, a whole nation even,” your father muses. “Surely someone out there is a match.”

Dr. Van der Meer hesitates then says, “Actually, there has already been a hit from the database. A potential match.”

Your heart skips a beat. “Who?”

“We maintain confidentiality, Your Highness,” he replies. “But once we confirm the match and receive their consent, you will be informed.”

Your mother’s voice is tinged with hope. “So there’s a chance? A real chance?”

You lean forward eagerly. “When will we know more?”

Dr. Van der Meer offers a comforting smile. “Soon, Your Highness. For now, patience is our ally.”

***

“It’s been weeks, Doctor. Why haven’t we heard from the potential donor?” The frustration is clear in your mother’s voice.

Dr. Van der Meer looks up, choosing his words carefully. “The potential donor ... has some reservations.”

Your father’s brow furrows. “Reservations? Isn’t saving a life more important?”

The doctor clears his throat, “It’s a bit more complicated than that, Your Majesty. The potential donor is someone you’re familiar with.”

You lean forward, your curiosity piqued. “Who is it?”

There’s a momentary pause, the silence thickening. “Max Verstappen.”

Shock ripples through the room. The name isn’t just any name. It’s a name known to every Dutch citizen, celebrated in every corner of the nation.

Your mother blinks in disbelief. “The Formula 1 racer? We’ve met him multiple times at the Grand Prix. But why would he have reservations?”

Dr. Van der Meer hesitates, “There’s more to it. We ran some further genetic tests, customary for close matches. The results were ... unexpected.”

Your father leans forward in anticipation. “Go on.”

The doctor takes a deep breath, “Max Verstappen is not just a match. He’s ... he’s your half-brother.”

The room goes still. The revelation hangs in the air, too staggering to fully comprehend.

You feel your world tilt. “That’s impossible.”

Your mother’s voice is a whisper, “How can that be?”

Dr. Van der Meer clears his throat. “The genetic markers were unmistakable. Given the rare degree of compatibility and the markers we found, there is no doubt.”

Your father runs a hand through his hair, trying to process the news. “So all these years, at every Grand Prix, we’ve been cheering for ... family?”

You chime in, a flurry of emotions whirling inside, “And he doesn’t know, does he?”

The doctor shakes his head, “No, not yet. That’s the reservation. Revealing this ... it changes everything for him too.”

Your mother is contemplative. “We’ve celebrated his victories, felt the pride of having him represent our country. And now, knowing he’s family ...”

You interject, “And now, we need him more than ever. Not as a driver, not as a national icon, but as family.”

Your father’s resolve strengthens. “We need to tell him. He deserves to know.”

***

“How do you even begin a conversation like this?” You wonder aloud, staring at the blank screen of your laptop.

Your father, deep in thought, answers, “Honestly, directly, and with sensitivity. It’s uncharted territory for all of us.”

Your mothers adds, “Perhaps start by expressing your genuine feelings, without the weight of our titles or his fame."

You nod slowly, fingers hovering over the keyboard. “Dear Max,” you repeat out loud as you begin typing, then pause. “Too formal?”

Your father shrugs, “It’s sincere. And that’s what matters.”

Taking a deep breath, you continue:

Dear Max,

This isn’t a typical letter and I struggle to find the right words. By now, you might have been informed by the medical team about our unexpected connection. I wanted to reach out personally, not as the Princess of Orange, but simply as ... family.

Your mother reads over your shoulder, “That’s a good start.”

I cannot imagine how jarring this news must be. It was for me too. All these years, our paths crossed, shared smiles exchanged, never knowing the deeper bond we shared.

“Maybe mention the Grand Prix, how it has been a tradition for us,” your father suggests.

Every year at the Dutch Grand Prix, my parents and I cheered for you, felt immense pride in your victories. The realization that those cheers were for family adds a layer of emotion I can’t quite put into words.

I understand if you need time to process this. But I want you to know that this revelation changes nothing about the respect and admiration I hold for you. However, it does add a depth of connection, a newfound kinship.

Your mother, her voice choked with emotion, suggests, “Maybe let him know why it’s important now, about your condition.”

The reason I am reaching out now is not just about our newfound connection but also because of a pressing health concern I am facing. I need a bone marrow transplant, and as it turns out, you are my best match.

“Reassure him,” your father adds. “It’s a big ask.”

I understand the weight of this request. There is no obligation, only hope. No matter your decision, I want you to know that discovering this bond, this link between us, is a gift in itself.

Please take all the time you need. Whatever you decide, I respect and cherish the connection we have discovered. Wishing you all the best on and off the track.

Sincerely,

Y/N

Your father, visibly moved, murmurs, “It’s perfect.”

Your mother nods in agreement, tears shimmering. “It’s from the heart. Now, we wait.”

***

The roaring engines on the racetrack outside fade as the door to the private lounge close behind you. Max Verstappen stands there, his usual confident demeanor replaced with apprehension. The weight of the recent revelations is thick in the air.

“You look different without the crown,” Max remarks, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

You chuckle softly, “And you without the helmet.”

The initial ice broken, the two of you sit. A beat of silence passes. Then Max, eyes searching yours, asks, “Why now?”

You take a deep breath. “I’ve always known I was adopted. Every snowy day, my parents would recount the tale of how they found their snow angel. I grew up surrounded by love and privilege, never lacking anything.” Your voice trembles slightly, “But there were nights ... nights I’d wonder about the person who left me there, in the snow. Why didn’t they want me? Why did they abandon me to the whims of a storm?”

Max’s expression softens, his own memories surfacing. “I grew up with my father’s strict guidance. Racing wasn’t just a passion, it was life. There was little room for anything else. I always thought I understood my family but this ...” He sighs, looking away. “It makes me question everything.”

You nod, shared uncertainty bringing you closer. “But through all this confusion, one thing is clear: we’re family. Blood, it seems, has a way of revealing itself.”

Max smiles ruefully, “You know, I have a sister, a full sister. Growing up, we were close but our paths divided. Racing consumed me. Now, discovering I have another sister, you, it’s ... overwhelming.”

You chuckle, “Two sisters. Lucky you.”

He grins, “Twice the protective instincts.”

The humor fades, replaced by raw emotion. “You know,” you whisper, tears brimming, “Despite everything, I’m grateful for our paths crossing like this. Even if it took a lifetime.”

Max reaches out, taking your hand. “Me too.”

The weight of the moment presses on both of you. You look at each other, eyes brimming with tears, souls bared.

In a sudden rush of emotion, you step forward, collapsing into Max’s embrace. He holds you tightly, as if trying to shield you from all the past hurts, regrets, and questions. The warmth of the hug contrasts sharply with the cold memory of that snowy night. In his embrace, the years of wondering, the pain of abandonment, seem to melt away.

Pulling back slightly, you look up into Max’s eyes. With a tearful smile, you whisper, “Brother.”

He grins back, “Sister. How would you feel about attending the next race, not as royalty but as my guest?”

You hesitate, the memories of previous races filled with formalities and protocols. “It will be different.”

Max wraps an arm around you shoulders, “Very. But I promise, you will see the world of racing like never before.”

***

The roar of the engines, the excitement of the crowd — it was all distantly familiar. Yet, standing beside Max, everything feels different.

As you walk through the paddock, Max’s pride is evident. “Guys,” he calls out to his mechanics, “Meet my sister.”

They look up, surprised, then smiles break out across their faces. “It’s an honor, Your Highness,” one of them greets.

Max nudges him, “Just call her by her name.”

You laugh in agreement, “It’s nice to meet you all without the formalities.”

Max continues his introductions, his enthusiasm infectious. When you reach Christian Horner, he looks pleasantly surprised. “It’s been a while,” he remarks, “Though our meetings were always, well, more formal.”

You nod, “It’s a different world from this side of the track.”

Max beams, “And she’s getting the full experience today.”

When the race starts, every moment feels magnified, more personal.

And then, the checkered flag waves for Max.

The Red Bull garage erupts in jubilation. During the celebration, Max, still in his car, locks eyes with you from across parc fermé. You can see the moisture, the emotion in his eyes. The moment he is out of his car, he races over, pulling you into a tight embrace.

“This win,” he whispers hoarsely, “it’s not just for me this time. It’s for us. For family.”

As the Dutch anthem plays during the podium ceremony, tears fill your eyes. The anthem, a proud symbol of your country and kingdom, now also symbolizes the new, ever-growing bond with your brother.

Max, standing tall on the podium, catches your eye and winks. And as the ceremony concludes, he suddenly turns, aiming his bottle of champagne right at you. The spray catches you off guard, laughter bubbling up as the cold liquid soaks you.

“You had to, didn’t you?” You laugh, wiping away the liquid before it can sting your eyes.

Max ruffles your hair, “It’s my new duty as your older brother!”

***

“Hey, there’s someone I’d like you to meet,” Max says, pulling you towards the thrumming heart of the afterparty.

The vibrant lights and chatter fill the room but everything seems to slow as you’re introduced to a lean figure with tousled hair and hypnotizing eyes. “This is Charles Leclerc,” Max grins, “One of the toughest guys I’ve raced against.”

Charles offers a charming smile, “Pleasure to meet you. Max speaks highly of you.”

You raise your glass in a mock toast to your brother. “Glad to hear that my bribe has been paying off.”

Charles laughs, “Well, considering today’s win, you might just be his favorite person.”

The two of you share a laugh, an effortless ease settling between you as you barely notice Max walking off with a wink shot your way.

“You’ve been to several races, haven’t you?” Charles asks, sipping his drink.

“In a more official capacity, yes. But today was ... different.”

He nods, his gaze intense, “Being family changes the perspective.”

Charles leans in, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Now that you’ve seen me on the track maybe I should show you some of my other talents?”

You raise an eyebrow, the thrill of the night’s excitement mixing with his words. “Oh? What other hidden skills do you possess?”

His voice drops to a sultry murmur. “Well, I make a mean pasta carbonara. Maybe I’ll whip it up for you someday.”

You laugh, the warmth of the moment spreading through you. “I’ll definitely hold you to that.”

Max, watching from a distance, nudges Carlos, “Look at them. Told you they’d hit it off.”

“You know, I’ve always been curious about the life of a princess,” Charles muses, a playful glint in his eye. “Is it all tiaras and tea parties?”

You smirk. “It’s more boring than you would think. But for a driver like you, every day’s a thrill, right? Speeding cars, roaring crowds, adoring fans?”

He grins, leaning closer, the proximity making your heart race. “Most days. But some nights, the thrill is ... elsewhere,” his gaze deepening, locked onto yours.

The two of you are drawn into a world of your own, the party’s noise fading into the background.

He brushes a stray hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering just a moment longer. “Have you ever considered doing a hot lap? It’s quite the rush.”

You laugh, feeling the warmth of his touch. “I don’t know about getting in a race car but I can think of something else I’d love to ride right now.”

As the club’s pulsating music envelops you, Charles leans in, his voice husky over the beat, “Care for a dance?”

You accept, and as you both move to the rhythm, the world around seems to disappear. The close proximity, the electric energy on the dance floor, and the feeling of his body moving against yours is intoxicating.

“Right now,” Charles murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear to be heard above the music, “I feel like the winner tonight.”

You smile, your gaze locked onto his, “The night is still young. Let’s see where it takes us.”

***

“I’ve noticed you’re attending more races lately,” Max comments, a teasing glint in his eyes as you both walk through the paddock.

You shrug, feigning innocence. “Well, I’ve developed quite an appreciation for the sport.”

Max chuckles, “Or for a certain Ferrari driver?”

Blushing, you retort, “Can’t it be both?”

Before Max can respond, Charles approaches, his smile brightening as he spots you. “Good to see you again,” he greets, though his eyes convey a warmth that words can’t.

“You too,” you reply in a voice softer than intended.

The three of you share some casual banter before Max excuses himself, leaving you alone with Charles.

“You know,” Charles starts, “it’s become the highlight of my race weekends, seeing you here.”

You smile, “I’ve come to realize that there’s more to F1 than just the thrill of the race. There are ... other attractions.”

Charles grins, “Is that so? Any attraction in particular?”

You playfully nudge him, “Don’t get too confident, Leclerc.”

Weekends spent at circuits become a regular fixture in your life. While you’re initially there for Max, the increasing time spent with Charles deepens your bond. The stolen glances during press conferences, the private moments away from the limelight, and the late-night conversations make the connection undeniable.

One evening, after a particularly intense race, Charles pulls you aside, his face flushed from the adrenaline. “Every time I cross the finish line and look towards the other garages, I hope to catch a glimpse of you.”

Your heart skips a beat. “And if you do?”

He smiles, “It either makes victory all the more sweet or the sting of defeat not quite as painful.”

***

“You’ve made the front page again,” Max remarks dryly, handing you a tabloid during breakfast.

You glance at the headline, The Princess and the Racer: F1’s Fairytale Romance accompanied by a candid shot of you and Charles out to dinner.

Charles groans, “They make it sound like a soap opera.”

You sigh, “It’s the price we pay, I guess.”

As weeks go by, the media scrutiny intensifies. Every public appearance and every minuscule gesture, is analyzed, often blown out of proportion. The weight of the world’s eyes strains the joy of your newfound relationship.

One evening, after a particularly invasive article speculating about a rushed engagement, Charles pulls you aside, his face drawn with concern. “I noticed you’ve been pale lately, more tired. Is it the stress from all this media attention?”

You hesitate, biting your lip. The truth is, it’s more than just the media. Your health has been deteriorating and you’ve been trying to hide it.

“It’s not just the media,” you admit.

His eyes are filled with worry. “What is it?”

Max, overhearing the conversation, interjects, “It’s her health. She didn't want to worry you.”

Charles looks at you in disbelief. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You take a deep breath, “I didn’t want to add to the pressures of the season, to be another burden.”

He reaches out, holding you close, “You’re never a burden. We’re in this together.”

You take a shaky breath, drawing strength from his words. “I’ve been diagnosed with aplastic anemia. It’s a condition where my bone marrow doesn’t produce enough new blood cells.”

Charles pales, “That’s ... serious.”

You nod, “After this race, I’m starting chemotherapy to destroy the dysfunctional bone marrow in preparation for a transplant.”

Silence envelops the room. Charles processes the weight of the revelation, the enormity of the situation sinking in. “Why now?” He finally asks.

“Timing is crucial,” Max chimes in, “She’s been putting it off, not wanting to disrupt the season. But we can’t wait much longer.”

Charles runs a hand through his hair in frustration. “I just wish you had told me sooner.”

You reach out, touching his arm, “I didn’t know how. Everything was happening so fast — our relationship, the media attention. I didn’t want to add more stress.”

Charles pulls you into a tight embrace, his voice choked with emotion. “Promise me, no more secrets.”

You nod, tears streaming down your face, “I promise.”

***

“Are you sure you want to be here for this?” You ask Charles as you both sit in the sterile hospital room, awaiting the doctor who would be overseeing your chemotherapy treatments.

Charles takes your hand, squeezing it reassuringly. “Every step of the way.”

The door opens and the doctor walks in, a gentle but serious look on her face. “Before we begin, there’s something important we need to discuss. The chemotherapy might affect your fertility. It’s not certain but there is a significant risk.”

You freeze. You had expected side effects, the potential hair loss, the fatigue. But this? This was unanticipated. This ripped your heart out of your chest.

Charles tightens his grip on your hand, his face pale. “Is there ... any way to mitigate that risk?”

The doctor nods, “We can retrieve and store your eggs. It’s a procedure done before chemotherapy in some cases. You will need hormone injections for about 10 to 12 days to stimulate the ovaries.”

You look at Charles, your eyes filled with tears, “It’s another delay.”

Charles brushes a tear from your cheek, “We face this together. I am here for you no matter what you decide.”

The days that follow are a whirlwind. Charles is by your side every step of the way, providing both emotional support and administering the daily injections.

Each evening, he carefully prepares the hormone shot. “Ready?” He asks, looking into your eyes.

You nod, trying to put on a brave face. But the physical discomfort is nothing compared to the emotional toll. Still, with Charles by your side, each day becomes bearable.

One evening, as he administers the injection, he whispers, “I’m so proud of you. Your strength amazes me every day.”

Tears spring to your eyes. “I couldn’t do this without you.”

Charles pulls you into a tight embrace, his warmth enveloping you. “You’ll never have to.”

***

“Are you sure about this?” Charles asks, his fingers brushing yours as you lay on the hospital bed.

You take a deep breath, meeting his gaze. “I am. It’s a step towards preserving a potential future, one I hope to share with you.”

His eyes soften. “Every step, I’m here.”

The medical staff move around in the background, preparing for the procedure. The hum of machines and the sterile environment contrast starkly with the intimate bubble you and Charles share.

As the procedure begins, Charles holds your hand, his thumb drawing comforting circles on your skin. “Remember our trip to Monaco?” He murmurs, attempting to distract you. “The sea, the laughter, the little café by the pier?”

A smile tugs at your lips, even as you nod for the OBGYN to proceed. “The one with the overly sweet pastries?”

Charles chuckles, “That’s the one. Imagine us there, a decade from now, two kids in tow, arguing over whether chocolate or vanilla is better.”

The image he paints eases your tension, providing a temporary escape from the clinical room. The retrieval is swift but the emotional weight lingers.

“You did great,” Charles murmurs, brushing a stray hair away from your face.

You smile weakly, “One hurdle crossed.”

The next phase comes swiftly the following day: chemotherapy. The treatment center is full of artificial warmth — the walls painted a deep yellow and the heater working overtime to keep patients as comfortable as possible — but it does nothing to counteract the chill of fear that has taken over your body.

When the nurse enters with the IV bag for your chemotherapy, Charles stands up, his stance protective. “How does this work?”

She explains the process, her voice soft, “The medication will enter her bloodstream and target the rapidly growing cells. There might be some side effects but we will monitor her closely.”

You feel a pinch as the needle is inserted and soon the clear liquid starts making its way into your veins. You blink rapidly, willing the tears away before Charles can see them.

Attempting to lighten the mood, he starts recounting some of his funniest moments from racing. You chuckle at his anecdotes, grateful for the distraction.

Hours pass. The room is filled with a mix of medical beeps and Charles’ voice, offering a counterbalance of cold reality and warm comfort.

As the IV bag nears empty, you feel a wave of fatigue. Charles notices. “Rest,” he urges softly, his thumb caressing your hand.

You nod, closing your eyes, “Thank you for being my anchor.”

He leans in, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. “Always, for every challenge, every step. Always.”

***

“I still can’t believe you made him go,” your mother murmurs from the chair next to you. The hum of machines and the sterile scent of the hospital room are in stark contrast to the roaring engines and burning rubber of the track that you can almost sense through the television screen.

You manage a weak smile. “He belongs on the track, Mom. This race is crucial for the championship.”

“He wanted to stay,” your father adds. “He’s racing with a heavy heart.”

“I know,” you whisper, a tear trickling down. “But he’s strong. And I want him to win, for both of us.”

The room falls silent, save for the rhythmic beeping of the machines. You can feel the potent cocktail of drugs coursing through your veins, sapping your strength but a necessary step to fight the disease within.

The TV in the corner broadcasts the race. You hear the commentator’s voice, “... Charles Leclerc, giving it his all today. You have to wonder where he’s drawing this intensity from.”

You know the answer.

The laps go by. With each turn, each overtake Charles makes, you can sense his determination, his desire to win not just for the title but for something else … someone else.

“You should rest,” your father advises, noticing your drooping eyelids.

But you resist, wanting to witness Charles cross the finish line.

The final laps are intense. Charles battles fiercely, and as he takes the checkered flag, the room bursts into subdued cheers.

“He did it!” Your mother exclaims.

You feel a swell of pride. “For us,” you whisper, before fatigue takes over and you drift into a deep sleep.

As consciousness slowly returns not too long after, the first thing you notice is the gentle vibration of your phone on the bedside table. Groggily reaching for it, you see a new message notification from a group chat with Charles and Max.

It’s a photo of Charles and Max, still in their race suits, grinning ear to ear. Charles holds up his first-place trophy while Max proudly displays his second. They’re both covered in champagne, evidence of the post-race celebrations.

These are for you. For our champion.

With shaky fingers, you type back:

My heroes. Thank you for being my strength. So proud of you both. Can’t wait to see you again.

Your mother, noticing your reaction, peers over your shoulder. “Those boys,” she says with a fond smile, “they really adore you.”

You nod, wiping away a tear. “I’m so lucky.”

***

“Hey, sis,” Max’s voice is soft, tinged with a mix of worry and hope as he sits beside you in the pre-op room, “Ready to share a bit more than just DNA?”

You manage a small smile, despite the anxiety. “As long as you don’t start claiming we share driving skills.”

He chuckles, squeezing your hand. “Promise.”

The doctor enters, clipboard in hand. “Both of you understand the procedure, correct? Max, we will be extracting bone marrow from your pelvic bone. It’s a relatively straightforward process but you might feel some discomfort.”

Max nods resolutely. “Anything for her.”

You swallow hard, emotions swirling. “Thank you, Max. This ... it means everything.”

He looks at you, eyes filled with a brotherly love that’s grown exponentially over the past few months. “We’re family. We look out for each other.”

As Max is wheeled away for his extraction, he offers a brave smile. “See you on the other side.”

Hours later, as you sit by his bedside, watching him slowly come around post-procedure, you squeeze his hand. “You okay?”

He groans, “Feels like I’ve done a doubleheader race without any breaks. But it’s worth it.”

Then comes your turn. Max, despite his exhaustion, insists on being present. The stem cells he donated are infused into you through a central line. It’s a simple procedure but one filled with so much hope and emotion.

Max watches closely, gripping your hand. “You got this,” he murmurs as the life-saving cells flow into your body.

You try to show a convincing smile before closing your eyes and praying to whoever’s listening that this works.

***

The pale blue walls of the hospital room have become all too familiar, the rhythmic beep of machines a constant in the background. You’re reclined on the bed, an IV line dripping nutrients and much-needed blood transfusions into your system. As your body adjusts to the new bone marrow, these are crucial.

Max is seated beside you, a crossword puzzle in hand. The chairs aren’t particularly comfortable but he’s still rarely left your side.

Max taps his pen against the paper thoughtfully. “Alright, here’s one for you. Seven letters: someone who is always there, no matter what.”

You raise an eyebrow, pondering. “Is it brother?”

He grins, “You’re getting good at this.”

You chuckle, “Well, I can’t help it when the answer is so obvious …”

He leans in closer, dropping his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “I snuck in some of those chocolates you like from that little shop in town.”

Your eyes widen in mock horror. “You rebel. We’ll be banished from the kingdom.”

He winks, producing a small box from his bag. “Worth it.”

As you both indulge in the illicit treat, you realize just how much these little moments, these shared smiles and inside jokes, make the ordeal bearable.

Max notices your contemplative expression. “Hey, what’s on your mind?”

“Just thinking about how lucky I am to have a brother who sneaks chocolates into a hospital for me.”

He extends his pinky towards you, “Always. Until the end of the race.”

You intertwine your own pinky with his to immortalize the promise, “And beyond.”

Just as the two of you are finishing the last of the chocolates, the door swings open quietly. Charles steps in, his eyes immediately seeking you out. There’s a bouquet of fresh flowers in his hand, their vibrant colors standing out against the sterile environment.

“You two conspiring without me?” Charles teases, setting the flowers on the bedside table.

Max smirks, “Just ensuring she gets her daily dose of chocolate, doctor’s orders.”

Charles moves to your side and presses a soft kiss on your forehead. “How are you feeling today?”

“Better now that my two favorite racers are here,” you reply with a smile.

Charles laughs, “I see. Well, the doctor outside told me your blood counts are improving. Seems the new bone marrow is getting to work.”

You nod hopefully. “One day at a time.”

Charles moves closer, taking your free hand. “Every day is a step closer to getting you out of here.”

Max, sensing the intimate moment, stands up, stretching. “I’ll leave you lovebirds to it. Need to grab a coffee and give that crossword another go.”

Charles smiles gratefully at him, and as Max exits the room, you’re left in a bubble of comfort and warmth with your boyfriend.

***

“Grant our daughter strength and good news,” your mother’s prayer weaves through the tense atmosphere of the room.

Charles’ grip on your hand tightens and he whispers, “Whatever the news, we face it together.”

“Guide the hands of the doctors, let their knowledge lead to healing.”

Max, on your other side, offers a comforting squeeze, his face betraying his own anxiety. “You’ve come so far already.”

“And bless our family with your grace and protection.”

The prayer lingers in the air just as the door opens.

“Grant her the strength, the health, the life she deserves ...”

The doctor steps in, a manila envelope in hand. Everyone’s gaze immediately fixes on him, the room heavy with bated breath.

He looks around the room, making eye contact with each one of you, then finally says, “The results are in.”

You feel Charles’ hand tremble slightly … Max’s grip tighten … your father barely breathing behind you … a silent prayer still on your mother’s lips.

“The bone marrow has taken exceptionally well. All indicators and markers are positive.” The doctor smiles. “You’re officially in remission. You’re cured.”

A tidal wave of emotion crashes over the room. Tears immediately spring to your eyes, happiness and relief mingling in each drop.

Your mother’s whispered prayer crescendos into a heartfelt “thank you,” choked with emotion.

Your father, the ever-composed king, has moisture in his eyes as he holds you close, “Our snow angel, our miracle.”

Charles pulls you into a tight embrace next, his voice a shaky whisper, “You did it.”

Max is grinning from ear to ear. “Told you, sis. Until the end of the race and beyond.”

***

“Look at them,” Max says, nudging you as the camera pans over the pit crews, each member prominently sporting a bright red ribbon. “All in solidarity.”

Charles beams, joining the conversation. “It was Max’s idea. The ribbons. Both teams were eager to join in.”

You’re touched, tears threatening to spill. “It’s incredible. Both of you, your teams ... I’m speechless.”

The commentator on the screen picks up on the theme. “For those just tuning in, both the Ferrari and Red Bull teams are wearing red ribbons today in support of aplastic anemia awareness, a personal cause for them given the recent battle of the Princess of Orange with the condition.”

Mid-race, Max’s voice crackles over the team radio, “This one’s for you, sis.”

Charles, not to be outdone, pushes his car to the limit, the red ribbon painted on his helmet clearly visible every time the camera focuses on him.

Later, as you walk back out through the paddock, fans approach, many sporting red ribbons of their own. One young girl looks at you with stars in her eyes, “I wear this for my mom. She’s fighting too, just like you did.”

You pull her into a gentle hug. “She’s got this. I know she does.”

***

As soon as the statement goes live on the official website of the Netherlands Royal Family, the internet erupts.

The Royal House of the Netherlands is pleased to announce that Her Royal Highness, Y/N the Princess of Orange, and Mr. Charles Leclerc are officially courting.

Your phone buzzes incessantly with notifications. Charles, seated beside you, chuckles, “Well, there’s no going back now.”

Your father enters the room, a smile playing on his lips. “The people seem to be taking the news ... enthusiastically.”

Your mother, scrolling through her own device, adds, “And overwhelmingly positively. Listen to this: We’ve seen them together. Their chemistry is undeniable. Wishing them all the best!”

You exhale, a weight lifting off your shoulders. “I was so nervous about the reaction.”

Charles brushes a strand of hair behind your ear, “We’re in this together, remember?”

Max bursts into the room with his usual energy, “You two are trending. The fans are loving it!”

Screens across the nation flash images of you and Charles — at the racetrack, during hospital visits, candid moments captured by keen-eyed photographers. Talk shows and news channels dive deep into analyzing your relationship, piecing together any crumbs of insight they might have.

A popular racing pundit remarks on a live broadcast, “Their bond is evident, both on and off the track. Charles’ performance has been exceptional since they've been together. It’s clear that they draw strength from each other.”

The public’s fascination is insatiable. Magazines are splashed with titles like Love in the Fast Lane. But despite the media frenzy, what touches you most are the personal messages. Fans share artwork, write songs, and pen heartfelt letters, celebrating love and the winding path that brought you both to this moment.

One evening, as you and Charles sit on the palace balcony overlooking the city, he turns to you, “They’re acting like we’re some sort of fairytale.”

You lean into him, “Maybe we are. It’s our story and I wouldn’t change a single thing.”

***

“You know,” your father begins, a playful glint in his eye as he slices into his steak, “I had an amusing conversation with Prince Albert the other day.”

Charles, taking a sip of his wine, raises an eyebrow. “Oh?”

Your father chuckles, “He said Monaco might need to extend an invitation for our next state visit given that we seem to have shared interests now.”

The table erupts in laughter. Your mother adds, teasingly, “And here I thought we were simply bonding over diplomatic ties.”

“So,” Max leans forward eagerly. “Any embarrassing stories about Y/N? I have to make up for all of the childhood adventures I’ve missed.”

“Oh, there are plenty! Remember the time she tried to drive a lawnmower and ended up in the rose bushes?” Your father says, trying to look serious.

Marianne chuckles, “Don’t remind me! Those were my favorite roses.”

You groan, hiding your face in your hands. “I was eight! And I thought it was a car!”

Charles grins, squeezing your hand under the table. “I can only imagine a mini version of you so determined behind the wheel.”

“And at her sixth birthday party,” your father recounts with a smirk, “she declared that she’d be ruling the kingdom by sundown and tried to hold a mock council meeting with her stuffed toys.”

Charles nudges you playfully, “Planning coups at six? Should I be worried?”

You swat him lightly, “It was a phase.”

As dessert is served, your mother turns contemplative. “You know, I’ve always believed in destiny. And seeing all of you here, witnessing the bonds and the love, it reaffirms that belief.”

Charles nods his agreement, “Life has a way of bringing the right people together.”

Your father raises his glass, “To family, in all its forms. To the journeys we embark on and the memories we create.”

The clinking of glasses has never sounded sweeter.

***

Charles, his face flushed with the victory of the 2025 World Championship, stands on the podium, trophy in hand. The cheering of the crowd is deafening but as he signals for a microphone, a hush descends.

“I’ve never done this before,” he starts emotionally, “naming my car, I mean. I watched Seb do it year after year and I always wondered what that felt like, to have such a connection.” He takes a deep breath, his gaze scanning the audience until it lands on you. “This season, I finally understood. My car, the one that just secured this championship, I named it after the most important person in my life.”

The crowd waits with bated breath.

“I named it,” he continues, his voice breaking slightly as he keeps his eyes locked on yours, “after you. After the woman who has been my anchor, my strength.”

You feel tears prickling your eyes as the sheer intensity of his words hits you.

Charles signals and you’re gently nudged forward, guided up to the podium. The world seems to blur, the noise, the people, everything fading until it’s just you and him.

“Every race, every lap, I had two goals: to win for the team and to make you proud,” he confesses, his eyes never leaving yours. “You are my world. And today, in front of everyone here, in front of the world, I want to ask you one thing.”

He gets down on one knee and your hands move of their own volition to cover your mouth. Producing a gorgeous ring, Charles looks up at you, his eyes shimmering. “Will you marry me?”

The world stops.

The deafening cheers of the crowd seem quiet compared to the beating of your heart.

Tears stream down your face as you nod. “Yes. A thousand times yes.”

No sooner have the words left your mouth than Max and Lando, the other two podium finishers, gleefully seize the moment. With mischievous grins, they uncork their champagne bottles, dousing both you and Charles in a bubbly shower. The liquid gold sparkles in the sunlight, adding to the magic of the moment.

Charles pulls you close, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss as you both get soaked.

***

The grand cathedral, bathed in the soft glow of a thousand candles, echoes with the hushed whispers of eagerly waiting guests. Roses, lilies, and orchids cascade down the pillars, their fragrance mingling with the scent of incense.

Behind the doors of the bridal suite, Max stands beside you, dressed impeccably in a classic tux. There’s a brotherly tenderness in his eyes as he reaches out, smoothing the delicate lace of your dress to ensure that every detail is perfect.

“You look breathtaking,” he murmurs, the emotion of the day making his voice waver.

“You clean up pretty well yourself, Man of Honor,” you reply, squeezing his hand.

As the first strains of the bridal march begin, the doors open, revealing the grand aisle, lined with well-wishers from all corners of the globe. Your father steps up and offers you his arm, his eyes glassy with pride and a hint of melancholy. “Ready, my snow angel?”

You nod, tears of happiness already blurring your vision. The world narrows down to the altar, where Charles stands, back straight in his crisp full dress uniform. As you make your way down the aisle, your eyes lock with his and the universe contracts to that singular point of connection.

Charles’ normally composed features give way as he takes in the sight of you. His eyes, also glistening with tears, convey a depth of feeling that words could never capture. Love, gratitude, wonder — all interwoven in that magnetic gaze.

His voice breaks as he whispers just for you, “You are my dream, my reality, my forever.”

Your own voice is thick with emotion, “And you are my heart, my soul, my love.”

As vows are exchanged and promises made, the world bears witness to a love that defied odds, overcame challenges, and brought together not just two souls but two worlds.

And as you both seal your commitment with a kiss, there is not a single dry eye in the cathedral. Because love, true love, is a force to be reckoned with, and today, it reigns supreme.

***

The soft whimpers of a newborn fill the air of the private birthing suite. Nestled in your arms, wrapped in a royal blue blanket, the baby prince stirs, his tiny fingers curling around one of yours.

Charles, sitting beside you, gazes down at your son with sheer wonder. “He’s perfect,” he says in a teary whisper.

You nod, tears streaming down your face. “Our little miracle.” The journey, the IVF treatments with your frozen eggs , the hope, the fear — everything culminated in this singular, beautiful moment.

The door opens gently, revealing Max, his eyes wide as they take in the sight before him, and your parents, their faces a canvas of joy and pride.

Max approaches tentatively, his usual confidence replaced by an awe-inspired reverence. “May I?” He asks softly.

You nod, handing over the precious bundle. As Max holds the baby, a bond forms instantly. “Hey there, little one,” he coos, “Your godfather is here.”

Your mother, tears in her eyes, leans in, planting a gentle kiss on your son’s forehead. “Welcome to the world, our precious grandchild.”

Your father, hoarse with emotion, simply murmurs, “An angel for our snow angel.”

And you know what? You decide that the fans were right. Your life really is a fairytale.

[thewulf]

A Little Jealous || Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Summary: Request - I was hoping if I could get one with Jake Seresin x reader where they're very close to each other and flirt with each other all day and makes everyone sick with their shenanigans but they secretly pine for each other... Read Rest Here

A/N: Good old miscommunication trope :) I love writing Jake. Keep on sending these amazing requests in and lmk what you think below! TY for the request @stuffingbuttsandshit

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Y/N

Word Count: 3.3k +

“You’re being dumb, and you know it.” Natasha rolled her eyes before turning back to the traffic light the two of you were stopped at, heading towards the Hard Deck. Your usual Friday night hangout spot after yet another grueling training session with Maverick. He was kicking all of your sorry asses right into shape.

Leaning back into the seat you refused to look at her instead keeping your eyes trained out the window, “He doesn’t like me like that. He’s not a relationship guy Nat. He’s said it a hundred damn times. Why would I be any different?” Sighing in frustration Nat noticed you toying with the hem of your shirt, a nervous habit she picked up on after only you for a short while.

“Because you’re you? He told me yesterday how much he likes you.” She sighed in annoyance as she kept her eyes on the road even though she wanted to slap some sense into you. She often had to restrain herself from quite literally beating you up sometimes.

“As a friend! He likes me as a friend you doofus.” You added on knowing he couldn’t possibly return the feelings you had for him.

She scoffed while very visibly rolling her eyes at you, “Can’t believe you called me a doofus you dork.” She sighed before letting you continue the conversation, “Listen, all the two of you do is flirt. He’s constantly staring at you when you aren’t eye fucking him right on back. I haven’t seen two people get along so easily before in this line of work. Might as well embrace what you have while you have a chance.”

“Whatever. I’ll talk to him tonight.” You didn’t want to admit defeat, but you were growing rather tired of going back and forth with her on it. If there was one thing she was it was adamant, and this was the only way to get her to be quiet about it.

Her eyes lit up almost as if she couldn’t believe what she was hearing from your mouth, “Really?”

“Yeah, yeah. If it comes up naturally I will.” You nodded your head thankful she was pulling into the bar already. There was a reason everybody from base went here after work, it was close. And you couldn’t be more thankful to be out of the car away from her prying eyes.

She shut the car off turning back to you, “Good enough for me. Now go in there and get your man.” She smirked knowing it’d set you off. She was right of course.

“Not my man.” You grumbled before happily hopping out of her car that was suffocating with her pressing you on the topic of Lieutenant Jake Seresin.

Of course, you’d love to take the next step with him. You practically threw yourself at the guy every time you hung out with him. But he never seemed to take your advances for what they were. Maybe you weren’t forward enough? Or maybe he just wasn’t a relationship kind of guy. You shuddered at that thought. He’d eventually be a relationship kind of guy. When he wanted to be. Why couldn’t it be with you?

When you walked through the front door and over to your usual spot you didn’t spot him right away. Instead, you spotted Bob and Rooster in the corner chatting away about something intently. Sitting down next to them you waited for their conversation to conclude before interrupting them.

“Hey Y/N.” Bob acknowledged you after a minute. You didn’t mind. Your eyes were busy scanning for Jake. Much to your annoyance you didn’t see him. Was he not here yet? That’d be off, he always beat you to the bar. Always saved a seat for you.

“Hey guys.” You nodded at the both of them with distraction written all over your face.

Rooster smiled over at you knowing exactly who you were looking for, “He’s on the other side of the bar with a friend.”

“Who is?” You couldn’t hide the blush that appeared out of thin air just at the thought of Jake. Were you really that easy to read?

“Hangman.” Rooster leaned forward challenging you, “The guy you’ve been looking for since you walked in.” Bob couldn’t help the small laugh that came from his friends joke.

“I have not.” Your eyes looked everywhere but his.

Bradley laughed, “Sure. Go on then. Go get a drink or something. Definitely don’t go looking for Jake or anything.”

You stook quickly, gracious of his out, “Am I that bad of company?” You mocked offence.

“Hardly.” He smiled shaking his head at your usual antics. Rooster had come to like you quite a bit. You were sharp as a tack, deadly in the air and kinder than they usually came. He’d be a fool not to befriend you. An asset he knew he’d need in the future, “It’s our company I fear that is not nearly riveting enough for you.”

You giggled shaking your head at him, “You’re something else Roos.” Before he could reply you walked over to the bar ordering a drink but also looking for the man who’d taken your heart so effortlessly.

When your eyes scanned the other side of the bar your heart nearly stopped when you finally spotted the guy you’d been looking for. He was sitting there talking, no laughing, with a beautiful blonde woman. Your mouth ran dry as your heart rate picked up at a rapid pace. She was absolutely breathtaking. Far, far more beautiful than you could ever hope to even come close to. If he was chatting her up so easily then how in the hell did you ever think you stood chance with man? Nat was right. You were just you.

You’d let Nat’s words get to your head and get yourself into thinking he’d actually want you. How could you have been so damn stupid? Your eyes watched them carefully as they both seemed overjoyed to be in such an intense conversation going on.

It was Penny who knocked you out of the longing stare that had your thoughts consumed so entirely, “Drink?” She asked.

“Uh, actually I’m alright. Thanks Pen.” You waved her off not wanting to get stuck here longer than you wanted.

She gave you a confused looked before turning away back to her paying customers. You walked out in a half daze thinking about the pretty blonde woman who had captured Jake’s attention whole so easily. You’d managed to avoid everybody on your way out including your ever so nosy friend. You decided to walk home, it was only about a half mile back to your apartment. You’d done it a hundred times before. You were just usually a little drunk and not so heartbroken.

In your mind it was best to simply turn your phone to silent and flip it over while you watched reruns of your favorite shows once you got home. You’d decided it was best to throw yourself a little mini pity party mourning a relationship that’d never be. So that’s exactly what you did. Ignored your phone and watched television. That was your first mistake. Your second was ignoring the knocks on the door. Instead, you turned the TV up just a little louder pretending you couldn’t hear it. Once the heavy banging on the door commenced you knew you could no longer ignore it.

You flung the door open in irritation not knowing who exactly it was but assuming it was Nat, “Would you quiet down? You’re going to get me in trouble…” The words stopped dead in your mouth as you observed Jake on the other side of the door and not Nat. Jake. Shit.

“You didn’t answer my texts.” He frowned giving you a once over scan that you would’ve missed if your eyes weren’t so trained on his. He was checking to make sure you were physically fine. You knew that.

“I turned my phone on silent. Wanted a night to myself.” You answered him before continuing with your own question, “What are you doing here?”

“Or my calls. You ignored my calls.” His frown deepened as he scanned your apartment behind you now. What was he looking for?

You sighed now, getting a little frustrated with his seemingly impromptu visit, “I told you. My phone is on silent in another room.”

That snapped him out of whatever he was doing. You usually didn’t have such a hostile tone with him. Everything with you was usually so gentle. The hostility was left for the skies, “Why? Why weren’t you at the Hard Deck tonight? Nat said you came in with her?” He looked so confused, almost hurt?

You nodded, “I did. I just felt, unwell.” It wasn’t an outright lie. Seeing Jake with that beautiful blonde woman made you more nauseous than you’d like to admit.

“Oh okay.” He frowned giving you another once over, “Are you alright?” He took a step to the side looking almost bashful. Not as confident as he normally came off. It was odd to see him so out of sorts. What was the reason? Surely it couldn’t have been you.

You took a moment to contemplate his question. You were fine, certainly. Just a little devastated for something that would never occur. A future you yearned for that would never begin. But you were fine.

“I’m alright. Why are you here Jake?” You asked once more not stepping away from the front door. Not letting him in but not shooing him away either. You’d usually let him waltz through without a worry, but something was stopping you.

“To check in. I got worried when you wouldn’t answer. You always do.” He answered without a beat. He didn’t look l

“Oh.” You nodded at him. That was kind. That was very much like him, “Sorry to make you stop by.”

He shook his head, “It’s alright.” He kept looking you over. You were playing with the hem of your shirt again. Things were awkward. Uncomfortable. You were nervous and he wasn’t saying what he wanted. Unsure of what to say you just looked down. Not ending the conversation but not making it move forward either.

“Well, goodnight.” You said after a few moments of painful silence. There wasn’t usually this much tension between the two of you. It felt wrong. There was never usually such an air of awkwardness such as there was now.

“No, wait.” He put his hand on the doorframe so you couldn’t shut the door. Not that you were planning to shut it in his face, “Is everything alright Y/N? I don’t… I don’t know what happened or what I did.” He paused giving you a genuine look of confusion and concern. A look you weren’t terribly familiar with from the man.

He was right. How would he know? You were being weird and secretive. And now that you knew he was probably dating that girl you couldn’t air out your love to him. That’d just ruin the friendship you’d grown to love with him.

So instead, you had to deflect a bit, “I didn’t want to interrupt you.”

He turned his head in confusion at that, “Pardon?”

“Uh,” Might as well spit out some of the truth, “Tonight. Was going to tell you I was heading home but then I saw you talking to the woman. She was pretty.” You added the last sentence in almost silence hoping he couldn’t detect the jealousy radiating from your body. It wasn’t easy to hide, no.

He crinkled his eyes together, “Who?”

Was he playing dumb? Could the interaction have been so minute that he didn’t even recognize just how gorgeous the woman was? You bit the inside of your mouth to hide your dissatisfied frown, “The blonde woman you were talking to in the booth?”

He cocked his head to the side. First a wave of confusion crossed his face then recognition of the interaction must’ve crossed as his once confused face turned to realization, “You mean Amy?” His smile turned to a knowing smirk once he put two and two together. Jake was anything but dumb. In fact, he was quite intelligent. It hit him as to why your mood would have turned so sour towards him so quickly.

“Amy?” You asked playing right into his hand. He had you now and you didn’t even know it.

He nodded leaning onto the side of the apartment building, “Yup. She was my commanding officer back in Virginia. We were catching up for a moment.” He nodded his head watching you as he reveled in your realization of who he chatting with. He also knew how pretty she was. Jake had thought so since the moment he had laid eyes on her all those years ago. There was a slight problem though, she wasn’t exactly into men. And she wasn’t afraid to let those around her know it. Apparently, you hadn’t picked up on it though. And Jake decided he’d tease you about it for a bit.

“Oh.” You said again as you took a step back while crossing your arms over your chest. It wasn’t exactly an invitation inside the apartment, but it wasn’t not either. Jakes eyebrows quirked up quickly as he realized he was getting somewhere with you. It was cute. You were jealous. You’d been so good at hiding any emotion he wasn’t sure if you actually liked him back. Nat had assured him that you did, and you were just afraid at showing it. Afraid of the consequences once you dove headfirst in. But this was a sign, albeit a small one.

He bobbed his head up and down while taking a small step forward, “Oh indeed.” He gave you a wry smile as his eyes traced over your face, “She was just telling me about how she and her wife were looking at adopting once they get settled out here.”

Your eyes rose in recognition of what he had told you, “Her wife?”

He took another small step forward, shrinking the already small space between the two of you, “Of three years. I was invited to the wedding. It was nice.” He grinned knowing he had you now. Your little outburst and show looked a little silly. He knew you felt embarrassed because he knew you. He adored you. He had begun to love you.

You looked down letting a small sigh of defeat out. You did feel embarrassed. Mortified actually. This is why you didn’t jump to conclusions. This right here. You stepped away from the door officially inviting him inside. He’d done nothing wrong. And even if he was flirting with a pretty blonde girl he would’ve done nothing wrong. You didn’t have any claim over him. Crap. You’d just made an unknowing mess of everything.

Jake didn’t hesitate at your invitation in. A sort of nonverbal apology he happily accepted. He sat down on the couch opposite of you giving you a smile, “You don’t look sick.” He said to you.

“I feel better.” You gave him a quick nod knowing your cheeks were beginning to flush right in front of him.

“Did your illness have anything to do with Amy?” He pressed deciding he wanted to cross the invisible line between the two of you tonight. Your acting out showed him just how much you actually did like him.

“No!” You were quick to answer, far too quick.

His little grin grew into that signature Jake smirk. The one that was often reflected at you in a much different light. Not like this. Not like he’d caught you doing something because he actually did.

“You sure about that?” He leaned so far froward you were sure he was trying to touch you now. Egg you on. Press your buttons. Cross the line. Maybe Nat wasn’t wrong? Maybe he did have feelings?

With wide eyes you shook your head, “No.”

He scooted over on the couch, so he was sitting next to you now. He reached out, placing a hand on your knee, “You seem… a little jealous?”

Your eyes were staring right at his hand that seemed to engulf your knee. You tried to answer him, really. But when you opened your mouth not a sound would come out. You shut your mouth in an instant before turning to him knowing he was right. You were a little jealous. But did you really have to admit it to him?

He leaned a bit closer to you, running his hand just a touch up your leg, before whispering in your ear, “For what it’s worth, I think it’s adorable that you’re a little jealous.”

Thankful for him giving you a little relief you finally found your words again, “You do?”

The smirk turned down into a soft smile as he saw the lack of confidence in your face. Had he not done enough to assure you of how he really felt? He’d thought he made it pretty obvious.

“I do. I think it’s really cute. Wanna know another little secret I’ve been keeping from you?” He asked you.

Your heart rate involuntarily picked up at that, “Yes.” It sounded more of a whisper than anything else. But you couldn’t quite help it. You were nervous. He made you terribly nervous.

“I think you’re the prettiest woman I’ve ever got to know.” He smiled watching your reaction. It was nice seeing you so expressive with him. You’d always been so cautious and reserved with him. Collected and calculated. But you no longer had to be. Not when he’d been so outright with it now.

“Now, I know you’re joking.” You laughed not so sure of his admission to you. But his face said otherwise.

“Have I lied to you before?” He asked knowing the answer was an easy no.

You shook your head in response, “No.”

He smiled softly moving his hand from your leg to your hand, “Why would I start now then?”

You gulped at the seriousness in his tone and through his expression. He wasn’t lying. He was out here admitting his feelings towards you. Damn. Nat was right. More than right. You were a fucking idiot.

Before you could stop the words that came out of your mouth you finally admitted to him how you’d been feeling, “I like you.”

He smile before capturing your face in his free hand, “A little jealousy always helps.” Brushing your lip with his thumb he studied your face intently, “I like you too. I like you more than you can even imagine.”

A breath of relief washed out of you as the words you’d been dying to hear left his lips, “That’s good to hear.”

He started laughing. A good old hearty laugh that filled you with your own sense of joy and giggles, “Let me take you out on a real proper date darlin’?” He asked once the shared laughter between the two of you had died down.

You nodded quickly, breathlessly as you took in his lovestruck gaze, “I’d like that.”

His other hand joined him as he cupped your face in his embrace. You were truly vulnerable as hell to him, a position you’d tried to avoid from the get-go. But you couldn’t help it. You were falling for him, fast.

“You have no idea how bad I want to kiss you right now pretty girl.”

You leaned towards him without a second thought, “Then do it.”

He thought for a second before shaking his head, “Can’t kiss you without taking you out first darlin’.”

You bit your lip knowing it’d drive him past his breaking point, “Please? You don’t have to be a gentleman tonight.”

He groaned, tightening his embrace on your face as carefully as he could, “How can I say no when you ask like that?”

Jake Seresin/Top Gun: Permanent Taglist (Message me or comment below if you want to be added!): @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @hardballoonlove @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @mamachasesmayhem

[wishful-sinful-9]

WANNA BE YOUR DOG

Chapter Three

Cagefighter!Logan Howlett x Reader

Chapters | Masterlist

Combat is often described as a dance. To Logan, it’s a procedure. 

When his opponent, eyes gleaming meanly in the dim light of the cage, raises his fists and sneers, the Wolverine allows two or three hits for the crowd’s pleasure. Roars of excitement - a glimmer of hope - rise all around. Then, when the unlucky fool has stepped back to shake out his sore fists and strike again, he’s met by a blow powered by solid metal. Only a few more follow before he’s sprawled out on the floor.

Tonight is no different. Two men have been knocked down already, and Logan is taking the brief pause while another is selected to smoke, eyeing the bar. 

It’s packed, more so than usual. Sweat beads on your forehead as you run around, accompanied by only one other bartender – understaffed as usual. What’s worse, some drunk guy has been harassing you all night. Shouting sleazy remarks at you over the noise, unashamedly ogling your tits in the square-neck top you regretted wearing the minute you clocked in. Logan sees it all from the cage. He takes a long drag of his cigar to subdue himself when he sees the man dare to touch your arm when you hurry past. You brush it off, accustomed to the unsavoury behaviours of the bar’s clientele. Logan is not so willing to do the same.

It must be his lucky day, he thinks, when the bold asshole is stepping towards him with his fists readied – too cocky to notice how the Wolverine’s lips have curled into a terrible grin.

The sudden disappearance of half the customers surrounding you draws your attention to the sight of a man, bloody and brutally beaten to unconsciousness being dragged out the door. Horrified, you glance at the cage: Logan’s looming figure, breathing hard as he watches it happen.

“Oh fuck.” you breathe.

–

Logan raises his eyebrows as you turn your back to him the minute he lugs himself onto a barstool. A beat of silence passes before he grunts, “Can I have my beer?”

You slam down the dirty glass you’ve just picked up and glare at him. “No Logan, you may not.”

“Why-”

“Why? Because I saw what you did to that guy,” you hiss, “that was cruel. You were too hard on him. You know you have an advantage.”

He furrows his brows. “I only did it because I saw him harassing you.”

“Loads of guys harass me!” you argue, furiously wiping the counter. “I’m used to it. You don’t need to play knight in shining armour just ’cause some dude was a dick to me.”

He shakes his head in disbelief. “But-”

You shoot him a nasty look, storming to the other end of the bar to continue cleaning. Logan keeps his mouth shut, shrugging on his jacket and waiting for your shift to end outside. 

–

It had been three and a half weeks since he’d first moved in and things had been admittedly a little odd at first. Yet the two of you were beginning to warm to each other; taking turns to carry out household tasks, making light conversation in the kitchen. Now he’s fucked it all up. 

In the van, your arms are folded and the tension is so thick he could slice it with his claws. It takes him great self-control not to veer off the road, the way he keeps glancing at you as you stare out the passenger window, keeping your back to him. 

You slam your bedroom door behind you the minute you arrive home. Logan stands in the doorway staring at it dumbly. 

You make quick work of peeling off your clothes, the stench of cheap booze and cigarette smoke heavy on them. You pull on a long sleeve, sweatpants, and fluffy socks, then collapse on your unmade bed to blink at the ceiling.

He was trying to do a nice thing for you. You feel guilt stir in the pit of your stomach at the realisation. Your roommate’s social ineptness had not gone unnoticed by you; being a mutant who knocks people about for a living must make regular interactions a difficult experience for him. Beating that guy up today – it was a demonstration of him caring for you. In some weird, brutish way. 

The smell of food cooking and the sound of clattering pans from the kitchen greets you when you emerge from your room. You walk in to find Logan cursing under his breath, rooting through your fridge. 

“Logan, do you need help?”

He runs a hand through his hair, “Yeah, I think I do.”

You sentenced him to a simpler task – cutting vegetables, which he still managed to slice his finger doing; you got to witness the wound heal and vanish in a matter of seconds – and got to work fixing the mess he made. The two of you ended up eating together on the couch, watching a movie. 

You nudged him with your foot to catch his attention. “Sorry I freaked out.”

“Sorry I upset you,” he says, swigging his beer. “Can I ask you something, though?”

“Sure.”

“You said guys harass you all the time. How bad is it?”

In the flickering light of the TV, his eyes are laser-focused on you, and you sink back deeper into the cushions. “It happens…I guess as much as you’d expect at a place like that. I don’t know, it’s not always bad, some of them are alright.”

He snorts, “You’re lying.”

“What!”

“You’re downplaying it for me,” he retorts. “If some of them are alright, how come you don’t go out with them?”

Your face grows hot as you fiddle with the label on your beer bottle. “I just…It’s…” you squirm. “My last relationship ended, well, horribly, so…”

“Horribly?” Logan’s gaze is as hot as a brand on you, and you half feel like he ought to hold a lamp by your face so it can be a true interrogation.

“He left me for my roommate.” you force out. “That’s why she moved out. To live with him. I mean, we were only together for like six months, but it…hurt, I guess.”

Neither of you speak for a moment. You’re aware of his eyes still boring into your skull. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles. “I didn’t-”

“It was so long ago, it doesn’t matter,” you interject, “I ought to let it go.”

And just like that, the progress you’d made had fizzled out.

–

The following night was a slow one. Though you couldn’t see from the bar, Logan had been watching you between matches, trying to study your body language. Completely unreadable. He took care not to release his frustration through his fists.

“Well damn.” you turn to see a man, younger than what would typically be found at this kind of establishment, grinning at you as he leans on the bar. “Aren’t you pretty?”

You tack on your best customer-appeasing smile, “Can I get you anything, sir?”

“A scotch on the rocks. And your number.”

You roll your eyes at the line you’d heard a million times over. “Your drink’s coming up, my number is not.”

“Got a boyfriend?”

“No,” you reply curtly, pouring him his drink. 

“So why not?” 

When you look up at the playful grin on his surprisingly good-looking face, you think over what Logan had asked you the night before: If some of them are alright, how come you don’t go out with them? The hurt and betrayal following your last break-up still lingers, but there’s a chance it may never disappear unless you move on. And this guy is alright, so what harm could it do?

You scrawl your number on a napkin and slide it to him. He winks.

–

A strange feeling was nagging at Logan as he watched you rush about, searching for misplaced earrings and pausing at any mirrored surface to check your hair. He’d heard very little about your date, only that he asked you out at the bar and was taking you to dinner in the nicer part of town. And yet, something felt…not quite right. 

You hurried out the door, wishing him a quick goodnight, taking care not to slip on any ice while wearing the nice pair of heels you had reserved for “special occasions”.

–

A heavy sense of disappointment settled over you when you remembered how most dates usually go: initial anticipation, then small talk, then the realisation that the guy sat across from you is no different from the parade of dicks that you somehow were consistently managing to attract. By the time dessert came, you were thoroughly regretting your decision to go out with him.

He drove you home, not offering to walk you to your door. Okay, you think, a goodnight in the car. At least he drove me home.

“Tonight was fun,” he says, eyes lidded. You grit your teeth for what you know will come next.

“Yeah, it was,” you blatantly lie. “I should-”

He cuts you off with a kiss. When you pull away, a shiver runs up your spine as you begin to open the car door.

“What are you doing?” His hand is suddenly wrapped tight around your wrist, startling you into dropping back into your seat. He plants a kiss on your neck.

“Um, I’m sorry, I’m gonna go,” you say, pulling away. “This was nice!”

His reply is muffled as you practically leap outside, heading to your front gate. Before you can breathe a sigh of relief, you jump at the slam of a car door, turning to see him marching towards you with a sneer.

He aims for your wrist again, but you snatch it away before he can curl his fingers around it. “What’s up with you?”

“Nothing, just-” You fumble with the latch until the gate swings open, making you stumble backwards. He catches you before you tumble onto the path by the waist.

“How ’bout I come inside-”

“How about you fuck off.” The low, sinister warning rumbles from the throat of your roommate, who appears in the doorway from the darkness of the house. He curls his fingers into fists, and from his knuckles unsheathes his claws. “Go on. Get.”

The trembling man releases his hold on you to dart back to his car, sending you falling on your ass.

“Ow…” you groan.

Two large hands hoist you up, and you grin sheepishly up at Logan. “You alright?” he frowns down at you.

“I’m fine now,” you murmur, “thanks for being my knight in shining armour again.”

His firm expression melts into a soft chuckle. It’s then that you notice his warmth; the two of you are standing unusually close, his hands still settled on your waist, yours having naturally found purchase on his chest. And he’s not laughing anymore.

What’s happening?

Your heart beats like a marching drum, banging against your ribcage like it’s fighting to get free. He’s inching closer. You can feel his hot breath flutter across your face.

He tastes like smoke and whiskey when your lips melt together.

@viviannagiorgini @maximumchilddreamland @vinaluvsu @policedeer @curlies-world @twinky-wink @willow-t @nobrihere @marshymallo

[syluscore]

Every Version of You

A reverse harem with three variants of Leon Kennedy and feminine reader.

An average day, nothing noteworthy. Until someone intercepts you and your partner a week before you’re gearing up to head out for an assignment. Now there’s nothing average about today, nothing is normal anymore. You’ll never understand. Is it time travel? Is his soul broken apart and now manifesting different versions of himself? All you know is that an older version of Leon is here, insisting he had to come back to save your life with the help of a trusted few. And for some reason his younger self from when you two first met and survived Racoon City together is also here. When your Leon is swept away on a mission to rescue the president’s daughter from a cult in Spain, you’re left to try and prevent your coming death with his past and future self. When he returns, how do you confront everything that has come to the surface with the other two? Will you be able to prevent your ultimate demise? It’s going to take every version of him in order to save yourself.

~ Masterlist ~ Next Part ~

WORD COUNT: 3.1k

SONGS: Always - Bon Jovi and Work Song - Hozier

CONTENT WARNINGS FOR PART ONE: drunkenness, pining, repressed romantic feelings, death, depression, anxiety, tension, kidnapping, violence, drugging, water submersion, self-depreciation, thoughts of dying, desire to die, heartache, angst, hurt with no comfort

!!!!!!!!MINORS DNI! THIS POST AND BLOG ARE 18+ ONLY!!!!!!!!

PART "CHAPTER" ONE:

“I can’t sing a love song, like the way it’s meant to be.” You belt out the lyrics to the last song you remember playing in the bar before the alcohol completely took over. Despite your words slurring, you did your best to mimic the sultry rock tone of Bon Jovi.

“God, you’re so drunk,” Leon laughs as he tries to keep you up right as you make your way down the dark, city streets. 

The only other patrons on this road are other drunks. All of the businesses beyond the bar are closed up and dark. You can still hear the music from the bar thumping in the distance.The late night air is chilly, but you’re too obliterated to take much notice of the goosebumps littering your exposed skin.

“Nooooooo,” you whine at Leon. “You’re supposed to sing the next part. This is a duet, Leon, come on!”

He stares down at you with an amused look on his face. “I’m not doing a Bon Jovi duet with you at 3 am in the middle of the street.”

You pout at him, stopping in your tracks in defiance. He tries to continue pulling you along, but you hold the heels of your feet firmly in place on the cobblestone. The rough texture of the restored downtown district usually pissed you off. You were always tripping over yourself on the uneven terrain, but tonight it’s helping ground you in place. You subconsciously apologize to the ground for all the times you’ve cursed it.

“I can’t sing a love song, like the way it’s meant to be.” You sing the same lyric as earlier loudly, your tone absolutely atrocious. 

Leon sighs before finally giving in, replying with the next line. “Well, I guess I’m not good anymore, but baby, that’s just me.”

You squeal joyfully at his rock ballad impression before clinging to his arm again, allowing him to continue guiding you down the road.

You’re practically screaming at this point, “And I will love you, baby, always. And I’ll be there forever and a day, always.” 

Leon knows he’s lost the battle. Your drunken mind knows no ration, so he sings along with you quietly. He fights the smile threatening to overtake his face, not wanting to encourage you further.

But it’s too late. When he gave in during your small fit, that was all the motivation you needed to give the city street the performance of your life. 

As you continued singing, your hazy mind couldn’t keep track of the lyrics. Leon just shakes his head as you get the words completely wrong. 

He stuffs the warm feeling in his chest down, locking it away as he always does. He doesn’t like how endearing he finds you. The way you carry yourself so carefreely. You’re boldly and unapologetically yourself. It’s everything Leon wishes he could be. He never allows himself to think any deeper on the feelings inside of him. Nothing good ever comes from him expressing the intricacies of the branches growing and entwining deeply in his chest. 

You’ve got your claws deeply embedded into his person. He has killed for you before, many times, and he will do it again without a second thought. You’re his best friend, his partner, his twin flame, but he refuses to vocalize what you mean to him. 

The world is a shitshow filled with unspeakable horrors and ill intent. Boldly caring for anything makes you vulnerable. If you have nothing, then there isn’t anything for the world to steal from you. His life is already overly complicated. He’s merely a prop for the US government. Nothing but a tool, or more accurately a weapon. He’s the weapon they use against bioweapons. A machine that serves its intended purpose and is expected to maintain itself as it sits idly by before it’s needed again.

He finds comfort in this fact somehow. An object doesn’t need to feel or process emotions. It enables him to push down his trauma and function day to day without breaking apart at the seams. If he detaches himself from the physical world enough, going through the motions is a piece of cake. Maybe he’s not living, maybe he’s merely existing, but when he’s with you… he feels everything. He wants to stay in the secureness of being numb, safe and sound within his own walls.

He shouldn’t have agreed to hit up the bar with you tonight. But after being briefed on your next assignment, you needed to be plastered to cope with the new horrors you’d be dealing with. And the truth was Leon cared about you extensively, so he could get through tonight. He’ll drop your drunk ass off at home and then seclude himself from you until it’s time to go on your assignment together. 

“Oh fuck,” you holler as you trip over your own feet, exposed knees crashing into the ground beneath you. You hiss at the stinging of new scrapes on your skin. 

Leon crouches down and attempts to help you up, but you’re super unsteady as your legs shake underneath you. 

“We need to get your drunk ass home before you completely self-destruct.”

You giggle up at him before your eyes connect with his. Your mind goes completely blank as you soften beneath his gaze. This is what it means to get lost in someone’s eyes, it must be. The alcohol running through your system is making it hard to ignore all the pesky feelings you’re able to brush off–to stuff deep down when you’re sober.

What if he leaned down and kissed you right now? What if he finally closed the gap between the two of you? What if he completed those broken pieces of yourself and made you whole again? Finally giving into six long years worth of tension? Your eyes fall down to his plump, wet lips before rising back up to meet his stare. You subconsciously lick your lips in anticipation. Your heart feels like it’s in your throat as the pace of your breathing picks up. Your entire body feels like it’s on fire and you want nothing more than to extinguish the flames, but in the back of your mind you know you want to ignite them further.

Neither one of you break the stare down raging between you two somewhere in the middle of this forgotten street. You could be literally anywhere and it wouldn’t make a goddamn difference. Wouldn’t change a fucking thing. But you know that’s just the loneliness and liquor talking. He’s your Leon, it’s not like that. He’s not like that. You’re not like that. Right?

You’re so lost in one another that you don’t notice the sounds and shifting air around you until it’s too late. While you were lost in your own bubble, you left yourself vulnerable and exposed to the world around you. And it seems the world took advantage of that fact.

Suddenly arms are wrapped around your cowering frame. A hand comes up and covers your mouth, muffling the startled scream tumbling from your throat.

Leon darts forward to pull the person off of you when two men you don’t recognize grab either of his arms and pull him back away from you. His elbows are flying into their sides, his nails digging into their skin. His knees and legs kicking out as he fights to break from their holds on him.

“Don’t make me do this, Leon,” a deep voice speaks to him, but it doesn’t change anything. Leon keeps fighting against them. The man lets out a heavy sigh before swinging his free arm and punching Leon hard in the face, his body instantly going limp at the impact.

You realize you’re crying and whimpering as you shake in the man’s arms. His tight grip on you hasn’t faltered for even a second. You’re powerless, a helpless feeling taking over your entire being. You have no fight in you tonight. You’re too drunk and you immediately regret allowing yourself to be in such a state.

“I’m so sorry.” The man holding you removes his hand from your mouth, but before you can say anything, there’s a stabbing pain in the side of your throat. Your eyes shoot in the direction of his arm, seeing him pulling a now empty syringe away from you. You’ve been drugged. You want to panic, but a fuzzy feeling seeps its way into your muscles and bones. Before you’ve even processed the sudden turn of events, darkness wraps around you like a blanket.

You have no choice but to allow yourself to fall into it.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Waking up feels like you’re trapped underwater. The world is so far away, the only sound surrounding you being your own heart beat thrumming in your ears and the movement of the water flowing around you. Your limbs feel limp, your body weightless. The only thing you can do is allow yourself to sink into it, to embrace the sensations.

But then you begin to open your eyes.

Everything is out of focus, distorted as if looking through someone else’s glasses. You have to force yourself to blink, taking all of your energy to lift your heavy eyelids. 

You can’t help it. You let them fall shut again. Even with your eyes closed, it feels like the world is spinning around you, but at least the ache behind your eyelids stops.

You almost give yourself back over to sleep. Almost. 

You feel hands gripping your arms, shaking you. You assume the person is trying to wake you up and you try to force yourself up, but your blood feels thick in your veins. That under water feeling growing inside your body as well. The feeling is almost peaceful so you cling to it.

The memories start to trickle into your brain that feels like it’s vibrating inside of your skull.

You shoot your eyes open and look down, attempting to focus your eyes as you force yourself to blink rapidly. You feel so fucking high and there’s nothing you can do other then beg yourself to please come down. Even as your eyes start to focus, your brain feels trapped behind a barrier and you still can’t get any appendage attached to this useless body to just move.

This isn’t working. You close your eyes again, instead focusing on your breathing. In, hold, then out. In, hold, then out. Rinse, lather, repeat. You can feel your lungs expanding and retracting over and over in your chest; the feeling has your anxiety rising.

But it’s finally working. Somehow, some way, the anxiety is awakening your nerves and pushing the drugged out feeling away. 

It probably takes twenty or thirty minutes to come back to yourself enough to comprehend what’s happening around you, but it finally does. And what you see has you feeling even more high.

You’re laying on some dingy, old couch. The room around you is dark and dank. It’s somewhere between a basement and a dungeon. The more you look around, the more you think it’s more dungeon leaning. 

You slowly manage to sit yourself up, using every ounce of strength you have to achieve it. You take more deep breaths before pushing yourself up, barely managing to steady yourself as you stand and your knees threaten to give out beneath you. More deep breaths and your head stops spinning, allowing you to open your eyes again. 

The room is small;  just the couch, a lamp, and a door. 

A few shaky paces forward and you’re at the door. Up close, you can see that the old door isn’t closed all the way. Placing one hand on the door frame for balance, you reach forward with the other slowly pushing the door open. And what you see has your head reeling more than the drugs.

This room is much larger than the previous one, the high ceilings nearly three times higher than the previous. Two men stand at a control panel surrounding a large tank of… water? It looks like bubbly, murky, thickened water. Another man stands away from the others, looking lost and out of place in a shadowy corner of the room.

But those are the least concerning elements. What has you screaming out in shock is the man up on the metal platform above the tank holding an unconscious Leon in his arms. It looks like he’s moments from dropping Leon into the mysterious vat of liquid and it has panic overtaking your system.

Every man in the room's attention darts to you at your sudden outburst.

“Oh good, you’re awake,” a man with a thick accent speaks from the control panel.

“What are you doing to him? What the fuck is going on?” You wheeze out. The room grows silent except for your heavy breathing and the weird humming noises coming from inside the tank.

Adrenaline takes over, your survival instincts kicking in as you rush towards the tank, ready to do anything to get Leon away from this death trap.

You throw yourself at the ladder attached to the platform above the tank, ready to do whatever it takes to save him. But large muscular arms wrap around you, trapping your arms at your side.

You kick and scream, anything to break free of his grasp, but to no avail. He’s so much larger than you. Even without the drugs lingering in your system, you’re still not sure you’d stand a chance against him. You’re the damsel in distress, nothing but a sitting duck waiting for your hero to come rescue you.

But the ever dependable hero is in immediate danger, mere feet above his ultimate demise. 

“You ready?” The accented man speaks to the man above the tank.

“Whenever you are.” A gruff voice responds from above. 

The accented man starts counting backwards from ten as the other man starts to move Leon towards the edge, ready to toss him in like nothing but a rag doll.

You’re screaming, pleading, begging them to stop. You’re in hysterics and all of the men ignore you. No one even bothers to spare you a second glance.

You’re completely helpless. You can’t save him. You’ve failed him as you always do. You know if it was you in his position, he’d have saved you effortlessly. He’d never allow you to die like this. He’d never allow you to die at all, but you can’t return that simple fucking favor. 

Please let me be next. Throw me in after him. I could never live knowing I allowed him to die as if he was nothing. He’s everything. If I can’t save him, take me with him. I’ll follow him even in death. What’s a world without Leon Kennedy? I don’t want to know, please don’t make me know.

Your heart shatters as you watch Leon’s limp body fall into the vat of liquid. The man at the control panel flips a giant lever and the liquid glows. The light from the tank is blinding as the man holding you releases you to cover his own eyes. 

You’ve always been a coward and you refuse to be as your best friend dies in front of you. You force your eyes to stay open through the excruciating pain burning in them. 

But then as quickly as it appeared, the light disappears. The man on the platform has collapsed, unconscious above the tank. And weirdly enough, the man lingering in the shadows has collapsed as well. 

You can’t stop the tears as they fall down your face, a sob breaking through your lips as the realization sets in. The tank is empty. Leon is no longer inside.

Did they fucking incinerate him?

You fall to your knees as you shake, your entire body crumbling as the situation truly sets in.

I’m so sorry, Leon. I’m sorry for being such a useless piece of fucking shit. Wherever you are, reach through to me and smite me dead with you. Drag me to the other side with you. Don’t make me stay in a world where you don’t exist. 

I’ll never let you down again. I’ll remind you every day how much you fucking mean to me. You can’t be gone. Please don’t be gone. There’s no me without you. 

You’ve always been larger than this world, Leon, but it’s nothing without you. The world was never worthy of you, and neither was I. But don’t fucking leave me. There’s so many things I haven’t said, too many things I haven’t said. And I’ll forever hate myself for it. 

If your heart isn’t beating, then mine doesn’t deserve to beat either. I’ll rip the fucking thing from my chest to follow you wherever you are now. It beats for you and I think it always has, since the day I fucking met you. 

If not this life then I’ll be yours in the next. I won’t be stupid anymore, I fucking swear it Leon.

I love you Leon Scott Kennedy. I fucking love you. 

And the afterlife can’t fucking have you. I know you and I know that you can look God in the face and fight, kicking and screaming, your way back to me. It’s not your time. All the time in the world would never be enough time to spend with you.

So you bring your ass straight back here and I’ll fall to my knees, devote my life to you. I’ll pray to you if it’s what you ask of me. You are my purpose and there is no meaning to this bullshit life without you in it.

I never got the chance to properly and loudly love you. Never got the chance to show you I love you. You left this world not knowing how much you were loved. And none of it is right. I’ll burn this world down for you, Leon. I don’t care if you want me to or not. This place will not go on without you. I promise, my love. 

If you don’t come back to this world, there will be no world for any mother fucker to ever come back to. No one is more worthy than you and I’ll never allow them to feel as if they are. As if any mortal soul could ever begin to compare.

You’re supposed to stay with me to the end. This can’t be the end. Is this the end? I refuse to accept this ending. I’ll rewrite the whole fucking book until it’s structured around nothing but your happy ending, Leon.

Leon. Not my Leon. I’ve lost you before you were even mine to lose. You left without knowing I’m yours.

[beautifulfuckup99]

Oc and JK fighting so he is giving her the silent treatment till she breaks off crying thinking he will break up with her 🥲

Him proving her wrong later😍smuttyyyyyy

Awe... Okay, okay!

Title: Gotta Trust Us.

Warning(s): Pouty!Jungkook, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort S!x

Author's Note: Enjoy!

*******************************************

"How could you not tell me?" Jungkook whispers as he sits on the couch. You felt exhausted. This fight had been going all night since you got back from the damn company dinner. From the walk to the parking lot, to the ride home, to right now that you two stepped into the loft apartment. You knew you should've skipped the damn dinner...

"Because..." You shift a bit, not having a clear-cut reason why you kept Jungkook in the dark...

"Because why? How could you do this to me, Y/N? I had to find out about you leaving from all your co-workers? I was the only dummy there who was clueless!" He states.

"I never said I was leaving!" You defend fast.

"Really? Your boss sure thinks so." He states. "Those emails sure say so. That damn letter your boss handed you at dinner tonight confirming you got an interview for the Thailand branch sure as hell shows you're leaving." Jungkook says as he stands up now.

"Nothing is set in stone! I... I was just considering it. Why would I tell you something I hadn't even decided on yet?!" You try, getting fed up with this already. It's like you two were going in circles...

"Because I'm your boyfriend! For four years we've been a team. You and me. You can't just make these damn decisions without me!" He says.

"Bullshit, Jungkook! This is my career! This is my cooperate ladder I'm trying to climb and it has fuck all to do with you!" You say without thinking. Jungkook stares at you and you freeze up, seeing the hurt clear in his eyes.

"I-I just meant-" He cuts you off.

"No. It's you're life. Why should I have a say..." He mutters before heading to the bedroom and coming back with a blanket and pillow.

"You're... Kicking me out of the room now?" You ask in shock.

"No. I'd never do that." He mutters before setting up the couch for himself. You roll your eyes.

"Baby, stop this. Think of your back." You try as he lays down on his side so his back is to you. You open your mouth but groan softly instead.

"You know what? Fine. Goodnight, Jungkook." You huff and walk off towards the room.

This would be over in a day...

You just had to sleep it off.

**********ONE WEEK LATER**********

"Hey, baby. I made dinner." You try the second your boyfriend walks into the apartment. He doesn't even glance your way, walking past the kitchen and to the gym. You sigh at his attitude, annoyed by it already.

"Damn. That whole apartment turned cold." Your best friend says with a shiver to prove her point. You look over at the laptop you had open to Skype so you could talk to her about this entire situation.

"I fucked up. I really fucked up, Tess..." You sigh as you sit back down. You should've told Jungkook your news before it happened, but... It all happened so fast...

"How's work been?" She asks and you roll your eyes.

"Just as good as home life?" She tries and jokes and when you give her a look, she instantly stops. "Sorry, Y/N..." She says gently.

"My boss is pushing me to go to Thailand for that damn interview. I-It's a higher position, you know? With more money, an actual office of my own, better vacation time. I just... I don't wanna leave until I have Jungkook on board, and he hasn't talked to me in a week!" You rant on as your friend just nods along, listening casually.

"I just... I don't want this relationship to end..." You whisper, feeling your heart ache with fear.

"Whoa, whoa! Who said that?" Tess asks in shock, and you look down. "Come on, don't act like that. You two are practically married! You've been going strong for so long! It's just a bump in the road." She assures fast, but you shake your head.

"This feels different. I... He's really mad at me. God, this place feels like my childhood home." You scoff bitterly as you try and blink away some tears. You never wanted the relationship your parents had. You always thought Jungkook would show you the right way to love. And he has. But this? This little 'bump in the road'? You've seen it before with your parents. And you knew how it ended.

"You're spiraling. Y/N, you guys are not like your parents." Tess tries as your bottom lip quivers slightly.

Tess watches with a deep frown before sitting up more. "Why don't you get out of there for a bit. Hm? Come visit me. Distance might help." She tries and you wave a hand at the thought.

"That's running away. I don't do that. I... I can't do that." You state. You couldn't be like your father, running off the second things got tough. You had warned Jungkook when you first got together; you love hard. You stay, you fight, you're loyal. But here he was, shutting you out.

"Think about it, Y/N. You don't have to deal with a grown man's tantrum." She says before you two end the call. You breathe deeply and shake it off.

**********LATER THAT NIGHT**********

You lay in bed, prepping yourself to lay down when you first hear it. A clash of thunder rumbles the loft, startling you in the process.

You gasp loudly and feel every fiber in your being freeze up. "Fuck." You breathe out and shake your head as you try and settle yourself. You look towards the bedroom, waiting to see Jungkook come rushing in like he always did during a thunderstorm. He knew your fear of them. He knew to always drop whatever he was doing to rush in and hold you. But... You hear nothing but the heavy rain.

No footsteps rushing to the bedroom door. No call from him asking if you were okay. Nothing. You feel your heart drop to your stomach. He really was mad.

Was it actually over?

*********************************************

The next day you stand in front of your suitcase on the bed. Were you really doing this? Were you really leaving? You sigh deeply and decide to just get it over with.

You'd be staying with Tess for a bit while you prepped for your interview in Thailand. As you're zipping up your suitcase, you hear the front door open and curse softly to yourself. You thought you'd have more time before Jungkook came home. He should've been distracted at the dog park with Bam all day.

"Whatever." You try and whisper to yourself. He wouldn't care...

Bam comes running in like he usually does after being away all day. He was always so ready to greet you. You pat his head, a frown on your face. You'd miss him.

As you're walking to the hallway, you freeze in your steps when your eyes meet Jungkook since he was in the middle of walking to the gym.

He notices the suitcase in your hand, and you watch his eyebrows raise. "What... What's this?" He asks and you want to laugh. Now he talks?!

"I'm leaving." You whisper and he blinks a bit in shock.

"Y/N. Y-You... You can't be serious..." He tries.

"Deathly." You state. "I-I can't be stuck in a house with a man who... Who wants nothing to do with me. You don't love me anymore, and I... I'm jumping ship before we both drown. I'm tired of going to bed alone." You say as you try to move past him.

"Jumping ship? What? Y/N, stop. I... Of cruse I love you!" He says as he grabs your arm as you shrug him off.

"No! You don't! You've been... Ignoring me all week! I... You wanna break up, I know you do." You say, eyes willing up as Jungkook stares at you in disbelief.

“Y/N. Don’t… Don’t leave me.” Jungkook tries as you stare at him, eyes hard. You couldn’t be here right now.

“You’ve been ignoring me just fine this whole week. Me being gone shouldn’t change much.” You mutter as you yank your hand away and walk off.

***********************************************

"Cheer up, Y/N. Things could be worse." Tess tries as you two lay side by side in her guest bedroom. You can only manage a soft 'mm' noise in response. You didn't trust your voice right now. And your eyes were distracted thanks to the window by your bed, watching the rain pour down. Damn this two-day storm...

You hadn't broken down yet, which you assumed was thanks to your brain not fully grasping the fact that you'd have to move on in life without your 'golden retriever in black cat makeup' boyfriend by your side. You're pulled out of your thoughts by a frantic knock on the front door.

"Who is-" Tess quickly cuts you off.

"I'll get it!" She smiles widely and rushes off. You sit up in confusion as your friend dashes out of the room. What the hell?

You hear the door open and Jungkook's voice carries through the modest apartment. "She's here?" He asks to confirm, and you roll your eyes. Of course, Tess would give you up.

You get up from the bed to try and shut the bedroom door, but Jungkook is faster. His hands press firm on the door, stopping it from closing. You two meet eyes for a moment, and it softens you for a second. A second that Jungkook takes advantage of by pushing on the door.

He's soaked. Drenched to the bone and his bottom lip is trembling slightly. No doubt he's cold. And yet he stands in front of you, shoulders squared.

"Y/N, come home." He tries, tone shaky towards the end.

"No. Did you run here? Why are you wet?" You ask, wrapping your arms around yourself as you eye him up and down.

"Traffic." He says and you pause. Did he get out of his car and run here in the pouring rain?! No! That's ridiculous...

"Jungkook, it's late. I want-" He cuts you off as he makes quick work of his jacket.

"What are you doing?" You sigh softly as you can't help but stare at his toned arms as he winces while taking off the wet black t-shirt that clung to his body.

"Jungkook!" You try hissing to stay strong, but that's when you notice a white bandage wrapped around his left side waist, a little under his chest.

"W-What..." He grabs your hand to pull you closer. You're too confused and concerned to stop him. He pulls your hand to the bandage.

"Take it off." He whispers. You look up at him and then slowly peel the bandage off. You gasp softly as you see the brand-new tattoo on his skin. As you read the words, it dawns on you. This wasn't just any tattoo. This was from your first date.

You and Jungkook had been set up on a blind date, and when you got to the bar and grill, you two sat in the booth not really knowing how to keep the conversation flowing. You were both so shy. At a certain point, Jungkook started writing on a napkin. You two went through all the napkins on the table and actually had to ask sheepishly for more at a certain point.

He'd gotten your last napkin conversation tattooed on him...

'This place is about to close...' He had written and passed it to you. It had made you blush when the realization dawned on you. You'd been here for hours...

'Guess so. Is this you saying goodbye?' You had written back...

'Nope. How long do you think we can keep this date going?' He wrote.

'Jeon Jungkook. Are you hinting at a night cap?' You wrote. You can remember this soft chuckle he'd let out as his tongue messed with his lip ring for a bit while he decided on how to respond.

'What if this date just never ended? How long could we keep it going?' He wrote.

'A week.' You wrote back and stared at him head on. He had frowned a bit at your pessimistic answer, but still responded.

'I think we could go for years...'

'Smooth. You're dangerous with words.'

'I'm also right.'

'Confident. And if you're wrong?'

'Is this turning into a bet? You know I'm competitive...'

'Bring it.'

You had sealed it with your kiss mark which had also been tattooed on him. You stare at the tattoo. "T-Th... That's permanent." You try quietly, in awe.

"Good. You're on me forever." He says as he puts your hand on his chest. You look into his eyes. "I was so stupid. I was childish. I just... It hurt me. You saying I had nothing to do with your job... It's true, but... Y/N, I see us as a team. I-I should've been told about this job opportunity." He says and you sigh softly, shoulders slouching.

"I'm sorry. I was just... I wanted to think it through before I bothered you with it-" He cuts you off.

"It's never a bother." He says gently. "I love you, Y/N. And I'll love you here, and I'll love you in Thailand, and I'd love you on the moon and back, because... I meant what I said that night. We can go for years. And-" You cut him off, grabbing his chin to pull his head down to meet your lips, kissing him deeply.

He kisses you passionately, hands gripping your waist as the kiss turns hungry extremely fast...

It makes you moan. Finally being able to get this kind of attention...

Your hands go to his wet hair as he backs you up against the bedroom door, your hands careful as they move down his body to get to his belt.

"Wait. I wanna... Apologize." Jungkook pants before kneeling in front of you. You blush hard, but let him yank your sweatpants down, eager for more.

With your pants tossed somewhere in the room and your right leg over his shoulder, Jungkook gets to work. He looks up at you as he tenderly brushes his lips against your pantie covered pussy. You hum as your eyes shut, hand resting on top of his head as he pulls your underwear to the side and kisses your clit.

His skin was so cold from the rain, but it felt so good to feel his lip ring against your clit...

He opens his mouth and starts tongue flicking your clit slowly, just to feel it twitch against his tongue. He loved that feeling and it never took long for you to give that to him...

You feel his tongue begin to move all around your clit and it takes you a moment to realize what he's doing...

'I'

'A'

'M'

I A M... I AM?

'S'

'O'

'R'

S O R?

'R'

'Y'

You groan as your eyes roll back, grinding against his tongue as he repeated spells out 'I AM SORRY' against your clit over and over again, not letting up even when you start practically humping his face...

"I-I'm gonna... Oh god!" You cry out softly as you fall apart as Jungkook holds you up against the door to help you ride out your orgasm...

As you shiver while coming down from your high, you feel Jungkook kiss up your body. "Good girl..." He pants.

He picks you up and you gasp at the suddenness...

"Slide down on my cock, baby. It's missed you..." He whispers against your lips as you moan in agreement, raising your hips as much as you can to nudge his tip.

"S-Stay quiet. Tess-" Jungkook cuts you off.

"She can cover her ears. Don't fucking keep quiet. I wanna hear you say my name..." He whispers as he slides into you fully, which makes you melt.

He kisses along your neck hungrily as he starts fucking you against the bedroom door, making you give in to his request.

"Jung... Jungkook..." You whine softly, move closer to pant and gasp in his ear to drive him wild. He groans and bites down on your pulse point, making you cry out, nails digging into his arms and legs tightening around his waist.

"Deeper!" You manage to grunt out through clenched teeth as he wraps a hand in your hair to yank your hair like you like.

He carries you right to the bed and throws you on it, making you giggle as you try to catch your breath.

"Ass up." He whispers and you smile at him.

"Make me..." You whisper. It makes him chuckle as he rubs his face, amused.

"Feeling playful? Hm, baby?" He whispers before he grabs you and puts you right in that position. It makes you giggle bashfully. He moves behind you and you feel him lean over you fully, nuzzling into your ear.

"You forgive me, baby? Hm?" He whispers as he teases your entrance, making you shiver in anticipation.

"Say it, baby..." He whispers and you turn your head to catch his eye.

"Fuck, yes..." You whisper, catching his lips in a deep kiss that's cut short when he thrusts right back into you. You bite down on the sheets as he focuses on fucking you faster and deeper like you'd begged for.

It doesn't take much to build you up again, especially sing his fingers were working over your clit firmly as he pounded you.

"I-I... Yes!" You cry out as he kisses along your face while deep inside of you.

"That's it, baby. You can do it. Cum again..." He whispers in your ear and makes you look at him as your eyes struggle to stay open.

"I love you. I love you..." You whine, so settled in this moment as he works you up. You orgasm hits you hard and Jungkook moans as you squeeze his cock while cumming.

You pull off of his cock fast and turn to suck it clean of your juices, looking up at him as his thick member fills your mouth.

"Oh, baby. Fuck yes..." He pants, head going back and eyes shutting in pleasure as he holds your hair lazily. "Y/N. I-I'm gonna cum. Oh baby, you're fucking perfect..." He praises as you go faster, never using your hands because you knew he got more excited when you worked him with your throat...

"S-Stay... Stay like that, baby. God, I love you..." He groans as he starts to use your mouth as you moan loudly around him so he can feel the vibrations. "Fuck!" He moans as he cums in your mouth, holding your head still so you take every drop.

You moan as you suck hard, wanting every drop. He pulls out and grabs your chin. "Let me see you swallow." He pants, looking at you with dark eyes full of need. You smile as you open your mouth to show him the cum on your tongue before you swallow. He groans.

"Fuck. You were so right, I was wrong. I'm always in the wrong. Don't ever leave me..." He whispers as you blush hard at swat at his chest playfully.

"Dummy..." You mutter before leaning up and kissing him.

"Let me hold you. I can never make up for leaving you to face that thunderstorm alone yesterday... But I can be here now. And for the rest of our lives." Jungkook whispers. You hum.

"Smooth. You're dangerous with your words..." You whisper and he smiles softly, resting his forehead against yours.

"I'm also right." He says and you look at him, the fear clear in your eyes.

"And if you're wrong?" You ask gently. He takes a moment to really look at you, hands holding your face.

"You've gotta trust... That I'd never let you slip away." He says back and you carefully wrap your arms around him, head on his chest as you shut your eyes and breathe deeply.

You'd hold him to that...

****************************************

Hope you liked! Also, I'm thinking about starting up a new series. Tell me what you guys think...

[mmurderhousewrites]

Rich baby daddy pt. 2 (Sukuna x Reader)

i know i said this was gonna be 2 parts but i'm gonna make it 3, hopefully tmr ill be able to post the final part.

Summary: Things go downhill at the party, revealing secrets you would have never imagined

Warnings: unedited, slight reader x getou in the beginning

Getou had arrived in an all black limousine with tinted windows. It wasn't much of a shock to you considering Getou always went all out for his best friend. He stood outside of the limo, leaning against it and smirking when he saw your outfit. He was dressed in an all black tux, not buttoned up all the way which revealed a white button up shirt underneath, and black dress shoes to go with it.

Sure getou didn't see you as anything more then a friend, however he was still a man at the end of the day and couldn't block out those dirty thoughts he had of you.

The two of you had talked most of the way there and of course you and your best friend were already a little tipsy by the time the two of you arrived. After all there was a nice selection of alcohol in the limo.

You paid attention to the surroundings changing outside, you started in the city then slowly made your way to the suburbs. The houses looked beautiful, from two to the stories, and the giant yards, you could tell the neighborhood you were in was only meant for the successful people. It started to make you feel some type of way, and the liquor in your system wasn't helping at all.

"You really look amazing tonight, y/n" Getou says, giving you a lighthearted smile.

You smirk and raise an eyebrow at him, "Don't tell me youre catching feelings getou" you say jokingly, rolling your eyes.

Getou looks at you for a minute before chuckling, "of course not, after all youre Sukuna's girl and i'm not really in the mood to risk my life just for some pussy"

You roll your eyes again and cross your arms, "oh please just because i had his child doesn't make me his. I'm sure he's been sleeping with other women anyways, not that I care. And on top of that he was too busy to spend time with his family that's the reason why i left him."

"yeah i'm more then aware, you've told me story about 4 times now" Getou says, sipping his drink.

You huff and turn to look out the window. You notice how the houses are slowly fading away and now its mainly mountains. The driver turns down a narrow dirt road, following it up for about 2 minutes before the mansion comes in view.

It was huge and the exterior looked to bricks, all different shades of grey. The curtains inside the house were all pushed to the side, making it so everyone could see what was going on inside. This was the Richardson's manor.

After getting passed the gate, the driver pulls up to the front of the house where a few other cars and limos were parked. The driver parks the car and they get out, talking to one of the staff members.

Getou taps you, making you look over at him with a confused face. He smiles, pouring another shot of tequila for both you and him. Handing it to you he says, "for the road ahead"

This makes you smile. The two of you raise your glasses and clink them together before downing the shot. You shake your head in disgust as the liquor burns your throat. Your best friend on the other hand took his shot smoothly as per usual, making him laugh at you.

The driver comes around, opening the door for you and getou. Getou steps out first then offered you his hand. You take his hand and follow suit, looking up at the beautiful manor in front of you you cant help but stare in awe.

You kept your right arm linked with getou as you were greeted by the head butler, a tall man dressed in a black tailcoat with a white undershirt. He held a napkin around his arm and bowed to the two of you.

"You must be Suguru Getou, and this is..?" The butler questions, raising an eyebrow at you.

"I'm Y/n L/n. Head journalist for Gojo inc." You smile, extending your free hand to the butler. He looks shocked, almost immediately shaking your hand.

"Ah yes, Y/n! You've written the stories about the take down of Toji Fushiguro right?" He asks, actually seeming interesting.

You pull your hand away, "yup that's me!" you reply. Getou is standing there awkwardly before clearing his throat.

"it was nice meeting you ms. L/n. Please enjoy your night." The butler bows his head. Getou leads you through the large open doors, revealing the party inside There were many people from different companies and backgrounds as you expected.

Unnoticed to you, Sukuna was talking to a few business partners in the back near the bar when he seen you walk in. At first he was seriously irritated considering he had definetly told you Not to come. Sukuna had his own business to take care of tonight and he was certain he wouldn't be able to get it done with you here.

You had stuck to getou's arm almost the whole night and it was starting to come to an end. There wasn't much dirt you uncovered on anybody considering you were already tipsy when you got here and you were getting rounds of shots for you and your friend every 30 minutes it seemed.

It also seemed you were too drunk to notice your baby dad angrily sulking on a bar stool, holding his glass of vodka. Sukuna had managed to make some new business partners and also managed to get many looks from potential partner's wives making them iffy on working with him.

You had excused yourself from getou to go get a drink of water, while you were in the process of ordering your drink, suddenly there was shouting. You turn around to see a group of people with masks on entering the premises.

Your eyes widen as you notice the large guns in their hands. Shots are fired and before you can process anything you are tackled over and behind the bar.

You look up seeing your baby dad, his hand was on your shoulder as he pulled out a pistol. You were shocked to say the least. When you two were together you never would have imagined sukuna would wield a weapon. He's a business man not a mafia man, right?

Sukuna never talked to you about things like this but then again when you were together he wouldn't really mention work at all unless you pressed him about it. It's possible Sukuna wasn't the man he claimed to be.

You were extremely frightened, Sukuna seems to notice this looking down at you and smiling softly. "I told you not to come for a reason" He says quietly.

There was a lot of gunfire and shouting in the background, you were sure your eyes were about to pop out of your head. Grabbing onto Sukuna you start to let out a few tears.

"You were so vague about it how was i supposed to know people would be dying?!" you exclaim angrily.

Sukuna rubs your arm before pulling out his phone and quickly typing something. "were gonna be okay. I just need you to follow my lead." He says and you nod your head quickly.

Sukuna peaks around the bar to see what's going on, shooting his own gun a few times. You hear a few grunts and sukuna turns back to you. He quickly throws you over his shoulder before making a run for the back of the house.

The two of you are met by a black Cadillac and sukuna opens the back door before sliding the both of you in. Immediately the SUV pulls off.

You sit there in shock, even surprised to see Getou as the driver, "What the hell is going on?!" You finally exclaim, looking at Ryomen angrily.

Sukuna looks over at you and sighs, "I've been trying to keep you away from this, princess but obviously I can't anymore. You should get Yuji from your parents tomorrow and come stay with me for now."

He takes your hand in his, "There's a lot of explaining to do. I'm gonna take you back to my house for the night."

You not your head in agreement. That would be for the best and after the night you've had you definitely wanted some company.

tag list; @cassouandco @mrs--imperfect @maskedpacific @domainofmarie @thejujvtsupost @valleydoli

[gyll-yee-haw]

Might I make a humble request? How about a virgin reader having her first time with Jake, and there's lots of nervousness and they go slow... just thoughts that won't leave me alone. Thank you!

Hii, baby! I've selected your humble request to be our Valentine's Day Special ❤❤ thank you so much for inspiring me! Hope you love it <3

Warnings: virgin!reader, virginity loss, masturbation (f), dirty talk, praise kink, size kink, innocence kink, creampie, Jake being the sweetest bestest bf ever... happy valentine's day everyone 🌹

Like 3.2k words

---

You and Jake had been dating for a few months, and today was your very first Valentine’s day together. You were beyond excited, especially after waking up to flowers and a sweet letter being delivered at your door. 

He had been working a lot lately, but that night… he was all yours. You had plans for dinner and all.

You spent all day getting ready. You wanted to look breathtaking for him. Bubble Bath, moisturizing, perfume… you did it all. And finished by putting on the dress he bought you himself. It was simple and hugged your body in the right places. Jake had taste.

Your efforts were worth it. When he picked you up later that night, he was blown away by how beautiful you looked.  It was almost too much for him. He could feel himself getting flushed just standing in your presence. Your beauty got him weak in the knees, he was just so in love with you.

—

Dinner was very nice. It always was. No one made you laugh quite like Jake did. No one would hear you talk for hours and never lose interest. With him it was so different… the biggest proof was that he never took advantage of you. Most guys would do anything to get you in their bed as soon as possible, but not him. He was waiting for the right moment. 

If we’re being honest… Jake wasn’t in a hurry at all. He wanted you, he wanted you badly. But he enjoyed having a relationship like yours… so different from all he ever had. So slow and pure. Every single detail proved that you loved each other for who you truly were.

You, on the other hand… well. The word wasn’t hurry, it’s just that you felt ready. You trusted him. You craved him. Especially after nights like this. All you wanted was to go home with him and just… do what other couples do. 

And tonight seemed like the perfect night. It was a special occasion, you felt confident with the way you looked… something about him removing the dress he bought for you… it just felt right and you couldn’t stop thinking about it since you put it on. And that’s why you were planning to bring it on tonight.

"So... not long until Road House premiers, huh?" You smirked. “Are you excited?”

"Oh God…" He laughed nervously. “I haven’t been this excited for a movie in a while.”

“I know… I can tell.” You laughed too. “I’m so proud of you.”

He grew a little bit emotional hearing you say that. Your support over the last months had been crucial. He would never be able to thank you enough for it.

He squeezed your hand, looking at you with a soft smile. You knew that was a good night to admit to him how you felt… the chemistry between the two of you was strong enough to give you the courage.

"You're... so beautiful." he said, as his eyes traced your curves and he took in all of your features.

"Fuck." You whispered to yourself.

"What’s wrong, honey?" He leaned in towards you.

"Can I tell you something?" You asked, staring at his lips at this new proximity.

“Always, baby.” He said sincerely.

“I’m losing my mind over the promotional pictures and videos… I… can’t wait for the movie, of course, but it’s just… God, you look so hot.”

“Wow, thanks, baby.” He laughed, taking a sip of his wine. 

“No, you don’t get it…” You looked down at your plate. “I feel… all warm inside, you know…”

“Hmm…” He started to understand where the conversation was going, but decided to tease you a little more… he wanted you to say the words. “Well, that’s normal, baby, I’m your boyfriend.”

“Yeah… guess you’re right.” You realized the game he was playing. And you would play it too. “Sometimes… while you were away I just had to take care of it. Alone in my room. Of that warm feeling, I mean.”

“How?” He felt like his heart was pounding out of his chest.

“Had to touch myself.” You admitted. “Pretending you were right there… always thinking of you.”

"Yeah? Well, you're a good girl for it." he whispered in your ear.

"Am I?" You felt… good about the compliment. He had never spoken to you in that tone before.

"Oh... you don't even realize. You're a perfect girl. I’m happy to know you’ve been taking care of yourself… feeling good." His hand went to your thigh, caressing it slowly. “And thinking about me. I’m truly honored to hear that.”

The hand on your thigh, the voice in your ear, the words he was saying…

"Jake..." You whispered to him. "I... need... hmmm..."

"What do you need, my love? Do you need some loving? Attention? Do you need me to take care of you?" He asked, with a smirk.

"Yes… want you to take care of me, fuck... can we please go to your car?"

His eyes lightened up immediately.

"Of course, honey." He replied with a smirk.

Jake made sure to leave a fat tip on the table before standing up and guiding you to his car.

He opened the door for you, before taking the driver’s seat. You started to feel nervous again, and he noticed it.

“Do you feel uncomfortable, honey? I promise you are safe. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

"I'm... I'm just nervous" You admitted. "But I do want you... I need you"

"It doesn't have to be tonight." He assured you.

He brushed a strand of hair behind your ear and looked at you with so much warmth and affection.

"Will you kiss me?" You asked, almost whispered.

He didn’t think twice, bringing his face closer to yours. The kiss was sweet and gentle, as a symbol of how things would be with him when the time came.

His body was tense. He was probably more nervous than you. Terrified of pushing you over your comfort zone. If anything, tonight had to be perfect.

"We're going to take our time with this.” He promised. “And I'm going to make sure that everything is perfect for you, okay?"

He kept kissing you slowly, hand back on your thigh.

"I'm so lucky to have you." You smiled against his lips.

His fingers brushed your inner thighs, making you spread them automatically. 

"Will you tell me when to stop?" He breathed heavily, eyes growing darker.

"Yeah… not gonna happen…" You chuckled.

He laughed, shaking his head.

"Will you help me? You’re not away anymore…" You smiled, maintaining eye contact while you pulled your underwear down slowly. His face was priceless… he knew that he had to keep his composure in order to stay in control of the situation, but…

You parted your legs, giving him a better view. "So wet, see? It's what you do to me."

"Oh my God..." He whispered, running a hand down your thigh. You almost couldn't believe that this was actually happening.

"Jake? Have you done it too?” You asked as your fingers started to work slowly on yourself. “Pleasured yourself thinking of me?"

"Fuck, baby, so many times…” He admitted. “You turn me on like no one else ever has."

"Fuck..." You moaned, working a little faster as you tried to imagine what he looked like doing that.

He just couldn’t believe the scene before his eyes… His innocent girl… It was like a fantasy coming to life and he barely had the words to describe how he felt.

"You’re beyond perfect, my darling." He said, eyes glued to your pussy.

"Will you touch me? Please…?" You gave him your sweetest doe eyes.

His face was nothing but desire as your fingers were replaced by his.

"I want to touch you... all over your body... feel every inch of your skin..." He whispered. "Make you feel so good..."

His fingers started to move faster and your hips bucked against his hand. The noises you were making had him throbbing in his pants.

"You like it when I touch you, love?" He asked sweetly. “Are you gonna cum for me? Show me how pretty you look when you cum?”

"Keep going, oh my god..." You nodded desperately.

He leaned in closer, kissing your neck.

"I'm so close, Jake... please, don't stop..."

His heart was racing… he wanted to please you so badly. His fingers went faster and the eye contact made you break.

“Jake! Oh fuck…” You gasped, feeling your orgasm wash over you.

He watched as your breathing went back to normal, a big smile on both of your faces.

"Are you okay, love?" He took your hand in his, bringing it to his mouth to give it a kiss. “You did so well for me, I’m so proud of you.”

"I can't believe how good that was..." You sighed, almost dreamy. “It was… different from when I do it… so much better.”

"You deserve the best, princess.” He assured you with nothing but love in his eyes. “I told you I'd take care of you..."

"But…" You struggled to find the words.

“What, baby?” He chuckled. “Need anything else?”

“I… well…” You smiled shyly. “I wanna go all the way. With you.”

—

It all happened too fast... but somehow not fast enough. You needed more. You needed to belong to him like you never belonged to anyone before.

Next thing you knew was that you two were on his bed, you straddling him.

"Yeah? You wanna be a good girl and sit on my cock, sweetheart?"

"Yes..." Your brain was absolutely shut by the possibility, you weren't thinking very well...

But then it hit you... you weren't that sure what to do... for fucks sake, you had not even touched a cock, ever. How were you supposed to do that? Oh God, he would absolutely hate it... you can't afford for him to hate it, not with the thousands of girls who wanted to be in your place.

"Are you okay, baby?" He could see the doubts and worries on your face. "Remember we don't have to do this now. Only when you are ready. I would glady end the night here if...

"No!" You weren't even trying not to sound desperate anymore. "I want you so bad, Jake... I'm just... not sure if I wanna be on top, you know? I..."

"Don't worry about that, honey." He said, sweetly, stroking your arms reassuringly. "Tell me how you want it."

"Hmmm..." You couldn't maintain eye contact because you were a little embarrassed. "I mean, when I imagined this, I always... I mean, it doesn't have to be, if you think it's lame and borning, I... I mean..."

"Talk to me, baby. Clearly." He grabbed your chin very gently, making you look him in eye. He had the kind of smirk that indicated he already knew what you wanted. "We have to be open with each other, you know. So we can make it work. There's no reason to be ashamed of anything. Whenever you have any kind of wish, I want you to tell me, okay? Want you to ask me nicely. I'll do whatever you want, as long as you say the words."

"Okay." You smiled shyly. "Can... can we just go missionary? Only this time, I think... it would be less scary."

"Who told you missionary is lame and boring?" He couldn't contain his laugh.

"I don't know... the internet?" You laughed too. "I was just trying to impress you."

"Oh, sweetheart..." He said very sweetly. "There's nothing in the world I would prefer right now. Wanna be able to kiss you and watch every single expression and little sound you make for me, yeah? Don't wanna miss a thing."

You could feel your skin burn. God, you needed him.

"Will you take off your pretty little dress for me?" He asked, as he unbuttoned his shirt.

You didn't think twice.

He had forgotten by a brief second that your underwear was lost somewhere in his car, leaving you now completely naked on his lap.

"Oh baby..." He stopped everything for a moment. To look at you in a way no man ever looked before. And not because you never had sex before... that look wasn't lust, it was passion. "You're so fucking beautiful... lay on your back for me, I don't... fuck, I can't wait much longer."

You giggled at how much he sounded like a fool for you. He was insanely in love.

You did as he said, and watched eagerly as he removed the rest of his clothes. Your eyes widened as you saw his erection. It made your mouth water. You couldn't believe it was about to be inside you.

"Jake..."

"Yes, sweet thing?" He asked, worried.

"Need you." You whined.

He chuckled, laying on top of you.

"You're adorable, did you know that?" He said, giving you a quick kiss. "Are you ready, my love?"

"Yes, ready." You nodded.

Nervousness came back to your belly as you felt him brushing the tip of his cock on your folds.

"We'll start slowly, okay? Tell me if it's too much, please." He pushed the tip inside and lost a bit of posture. "Fuck, you're so wet..."

He started trusting like that, just the tip. Slowly. Moaning because of the way you squeezed his girth so tightly.

"Please, talk to me..." He asked. You had gone silent without noticing, just because you were enjoying it more than you could have imagined.

"Jake... it feels wonderful..." You smiled at him. "So good..."

"Yeah?" He smiled back. "Can I get a litte deeper?"

You nodded excitedly. Oh... so there was it... the pain people talked about. But it wasn't too much. You could take it. You were proud of yourself.

"Good girl..." He praised, keeping the movements slow. "Almost all the way in, angel."

"That's..." Your eyes widened. "That's not all?"

He would have laughed, but he had to use all his strength to hold himself back and not cum right there. It was only your first time and you had already unlocked 2 new kinks for him: size and innocence.

"We can... well, I can stop here, if..." He was looking for the words, but the look in your eyes had him losing it.

"No..." You frowned. "Want all of it."

"Are you sure, baby?" He asked, and you nodded. "Fuck..."

He probably wasn't even halfway there, because if felt like an eternity for him to push the rest inside.

"Such a brave little girl, taking me so well..." He said, kissing your neck, hands squeezing your tits, all he could do to make you relax.

"Hurts a bit..." You admitted.

"I know, angel." He continued the kisses, still not moving his hips. "But it's gonna feel good, I promise."

"Hmmm...Jake..." You felt your eyes fill with tears.

"What is it, baby?" He looked at you absolutely heartbroken. "Did I hurt you?"

"No..." You tried to explain something not even you understood that well. "I just want you so bad..."

"Baby!" He chuckled. "You don't have to cry... I'm gonna give you absolutely anything, you understand me? Fuck... gonna make you feel so fucking good... can I move now, princess? You think...?"

"Yes, Jake... what you...hm... what you were doing before felt so good."

"I know." He pulled out half of his cock, pushing it back again, watching your face. "Felt so good for me too... you're squeezing me so good I..."

"Do that again." You interrupted him.

"What?" He repeated his movement.

"Fuck!" You moaned. "You're so deep!"

"Y/N..." He felt like he was the one who was about to cry now. "You have no idea what you're doing to me..."

"Am I turning you on?" You chuckled.

"No, baby, you turn me on when you give me that pretty smile, when you kiss me... right now you're driving me insane." He admitted. "Do you think... I can go a little faster than this?"

"Yes..." You nodded, taking a deep breath.

"Fuck, baby, thank you." He moaned, hips starting to actually thrust now.

It was surely a lot more painful than what he was doing before. But the way you felt so full... the way you slowly began to get those goosebumps when he hit a certain spot...

"Princess?" He called. "Are you feeling good?"

You nodded, huge smile on your face. Jake couldn't help but kiss that smile.

"Yeah?" He continued. "Fuck, I'm feeling so good... we gonna keep it slow for today, okay? Nice and slow..."

You were dying to discover new sensations with him, but you were grateful for taking it slow for now.

"But..." You said, a little worried. "Do you think... do you think it's enough?"

"What do you mean, love?" He asked, hips keeping a nice pace.

"Is it... enough for you to cum?" You asked shyly.

"Oh my sweet girl..." He moaned. "Forget all you read online, okay? I don't need to be mean and hurt you... I'm feeling so good right now, I'm actually holding it back... don't want it to end."

"Don't want you to hold it back." You furrowed your eyebrows.

"Yeah?" He bit his lip, trying to keep calm. "Will you do something for me, angel? Before I let go, I want you to cum one more time, do you think you can do that?"

"I don't know..." You panicked a little. "It feels very good, but..."

"I know, baby." His lips went back to your neck. "Want you to touch your sweet little clit like you did earlier in the car... do you think you could do that?"

You nodded, hand going down, looking for your clit. It was so swollen at that point, that just a gentle brush of your fingers sent electricity through your body. And Jake's cock somehow felt bigger...

"Fuck, baby!" He seemed to feel that too. "You have no idea how good it feels when you squeeze me like that... fucking need you to cum..."

"Hmmm..." You moaned as you started to rub it really good. His words alone where sending you to the edge.

You began to get spasms as you felt yourself getting really close. Everytime it happened, Jake would let out the hottest grunt in the world. You felt like crying again.

"Jake..." You moaned, all your body tensing up.

"Do it, sweetheart, cum for me now, please..." He accidentally started going a little faster. Not as fast as he wanted, but faster than before.

"Jake!!!" You gasped. "Don't stop, don't stop, I... I'm gonna cum..."

"Yes, princess, fucking cum for me, cum for me... shit."

The way you screamed his name and squeezed him sent him to another dimension.

"Baby, I'm gonna cum, fuck, is that okay?" He asked trying to hide his desperation. "Don't think I can pull out, you're squeezing me too good..."

"No! Don't pull out..." You replied, absolutely cock drunk. "Keep going!"

Oh man, that did it for him. He grabbed the sheets so hard, still afraid to hurt you. Then, with a deep thrust, he lost himself inside you. Gave you every last drop of his release, not being able to hold back his loud grunts.

"Happy Valentine's day!" You said excitedly, watching him trying to catch his breath. "Did you like your present?"

"Fuck..." He collapsed on your chest. "It was the best present ever, my sweet angel."

[acourtoflucien]

Lay Me Down In The Light

Pairing: Lucien x Elain

For Day 2 of @elucienweekofficial 'Golden'

Summary: Elain wants to progress her and Lucien's relationship to the next level, but she doesn't know how to go about it. Walking in on him in the bath is certainly a place to start.

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 3,848

Chapter: 1/3

✨ Read on ao3 or Under the Cut✨

A/N: My contribution for the 'Golden' prompt for Elucien week. This will be two chapters, unfortunately my dissertation had to come first so this had to be split up *sigh*. I had a lot of fun with this, and the image of Lucien in the bath wouldn't leave me alone for weeks so here he finally is. I hope you enjoy it!

---

Elain pulled at the fur lining of her hood as she walked along the sleet slicked pavement. She had lingered for too long in the heated square, pouring over the goods on display in the Palace of Thread and Jewels, thinking already of Starfall despite winter’s insistent chill that showed no signs of ebbing.

Velaris was beautiful, of course, but cold, bitterly so in the winter months, and though bubbles of heat were kept in place for its residents the streets themselves remained icy. She shivered, the darkness of late February pressing in closer around her, the sky, though beautiful, seemed lower than usual, disheartening.

She paused at a fork in the road. Turning right would lead a more direct path to the river house, where no doubt the fire was roaring and dinner on its way. But left, it would take her past another house, the one that housed his apartment.

Lucien had been there near permanently as of late, and they had spent almost every day he was there together, walking around the town, eating in the various restaurants Velaris had to offer, or else spending the day curled up on the sofas in his apartment, talking the day away. Since solstice, she realised with a slight flush, he had been there since the winter solstice.

That night they had shared a kiss, a proper one, not the sweet presses of lips to her cheek or hand that had been the practice until then as they slowly got to know each other. No, this had been real and deep, and had made something flicker behind her ribcage, a flame that had settled there and grown every day since. She wondered how long she could endure it, burning for him like that.

He’d left last week for a quick visit to Jurian and Vassa, settled as they were in the human lands. Only a week, he’d promised. And that week was almost up.

She intended to go back to the river house tonight, to relax, bathe, get ready for his arrival tomorrow, and though she knew she should get out of the cold, part of her, the part that burned at every quiet word and soft touch, drove her to take the left fork and walk by the house just to look again at the promise it held.

Decision made, she set off, bracing against the bitter chill of wind. She had almost asked to go with him just to get out of the city, but she knew the human lands were no better, if not colder, than here.

Having to keep her eyes half-closed against the sleet now beginning to fall in earnest, she squinted down at the icy road, biting back a half-amused, half-incredulous smile as she realised she knew the way without even having to look. So different to how it had been just two years ago, when she’d barely spoken a word to him, never mind been to his rooms.

How time, and a little bit of courage, had changed their relationship entirely.

With her mind so focussed on thoughts of him and the way they had grown closer she arrived at the gate in what seemed no time, and reached out a hand to steady it as it had popped open in the wind. Then she looked up at the house.

Lucien’s apartment was on the top floor of the townhouse, the bottom owned by an older couple who always smiled when they saw her and were happy to talk to her about the little garden they tended to out the front.

She was glad to know them, even if their smiles were a little too knowing every time she took Lucien’s arm, or stared a bit too long at his profile when he was talking.

Now, she looked up at the windows of the house, trailed over as they were with climbing ivy, and was surprised to see a light in the top corner. Had he returned early?

A few days into the new year he had handed her a key to the apartment, telling her to let herself in anytime, knowing that though she loved her family, loved little Nyx, sometimes living with them could be a little. Well, a little overwhelming.

Her fae body had made her more sensitive to loud noise, more prone to headaches than she used to be, and sometimes it was nice to come into the cool interior of his rooms, surrounded by that sun-soaked cinnamon scent, and simply let her mind drift.

She had been there just the day before to tend to the little succulent plants on his windowsill that were curling and yellowing at the edges, repotting and pruning. Maybe she had left faelight shining, and not realised.

Not wanting to go home until she knew for sure, she decided to go up and check. If he was back early, she would simply apologise for disturbing him. Perhaps he would even invite her in for dinner. Or something more.

She ascended the stairs, pulling her hands out the fur lined gloves she wore to fish the key out of her bag. Opening the door, she made to call out, in case he had returned and was simply in one of the other rooms but something stopped her. Not the bond, something instinctive and quiet, a cool voice that whispered to her to stop. Her magic, she realised.

She listened to the stillness, breathing quietly. What if someone else had come into the house? The thought hadn’t occurred to her until that moment, that someone could be in here, perhaps searching for something. Lying in wait. But crime was so low in Velaris, almost unheard of, especially in these parts.

Then she heard it; a quiet sigh.

Something in the back of her mind relaxed at that. For that was his voice, she knew. And, she noted, the heartbeat that pulsed along with her own sounded stronger here. So he had returned early, she thought, and he was in the bathing room, suddenly recognising where the sound had come from. The door was left open a crack, and she could now see the soft golden glow of faelight that danced behind it.

She strained her senses, the heightened faerie hearing that had overwhelmed her so much in the beginning, everything too much, too loud, coupled with the sound of a constant beating heart that she felt everywhere, not just if he happened to be in the room with her at the time.

Again, some part of her made her keep quiet, still and listening. If she concentrated enough, she could hear his breath, deep and slow, but also, she realised, heavy. Laboured. Concerned, she started forward. Had he been injured somehow?

She couldn’t help her concern whenever he left for extended periods, but this had been a short trip, visiting friends. There should have been no reason for him to fight, or get hurt in any way, yet his breath said otherwise, and the heartbeat which had grown louder the closer she strayed to the door was fluttering slightly, an irregular rhythm that increased and ebbed again and again.

Moving forward instinctually, she listened for any further sound. She dreaded to think, was he hurt and thinking himself alone to deal with the pain? Or was it something else, something deeper? She remembered her mother’s fever, the quickening heart, the sharp, short breathing that came before the end.

It was only the bond, contentedly warm against her ribs, that stopped her falling into panic. She knew, had been told so many times by Feyre and the others, there would be no doubt if he was in trouble, that the bond would tighten, she would be able to feel it. There was nothing that suggested pain, or discomfort, only a warm contentedness, no doubt from the heated pool she knew lay behind the panelled doorway.

Right, that solved that, she told herself. She should get away from the door and tend to the fire, get the room and the house heated before he emerged so they could talk together. There was no point leaving, he would know she had been here from her scent and she didn’t want to walk out without at least wishing him a good night’s rest. Perhaps, he may even kiss her again.

Something sparked in her stomach at the thought, bright in its intensity. Flattening a hand to her abdomen, she tried to will herself to calm, but as she did so another bolt shot through her. Though this time not in her stomach, but behind her ribs.

It was all she could do to stop from gasping aloud. The soft noises, the quickening heart.

Telling herself not to, she inched closer to the door, the sliver of golden light where it laid open. Only to check, she thought, not even fooling herself, only to see he was okay. Not for any other reason, she thought sternly, before her reason abandoned her entirely as she caught the scent that was flowing from the room among the steam from the water.

It was Lucien, yet somehow sweeter and richer than she had ever noted before, dark and stirring like the warmth of a campfire, like the heady sweetness of the earth in the sun, like the spice laden comfort of ginger and cinnamon.

Her breath deepened, slowing to savour the headiness of it, the rush of heat and desire it held.

Later, she would blame what happened next on the soft moan she heard through the door. In reality, there was nothing on her mind other than following that scent to its source, sliding into the warmth and depth of it. Courage bloomed from somewhere within her, the sound and scent of her mate pulling her on. She held out a hand, and pushed open the door.

He was reclined against the wall of the tub, eyes closed, brows drawn in a frown of concentration and need, lips parted as he exhaled. His long red hair was dark and slick from the bathwater, sticking to the side of his face and trailing lazily across his chest, the ends dancing as they splayed out into the water.

One hand was braced against the side of the tub for support, as the other – heat flooded through Elain at the sight, the sparking embers outside nothing compared to the tidal wave that washed through her, so abruptly she was almost dizzy from it, and she must have gasped, must have made some noise as his eyes flashed open and he pulled his hand away in shock, gripping the side of the tub and moving so quickly that the water rose to the lip and spilled over onto the floor.

"Elain!" he said, voice deep and out of breath, almost a groan. "I, what–"

Voice giving out in surprise, he made a tense aborted movement as if torn between grabbing the towel that lay pooled on the floor and shielding himself from her gaze. Clearing his throat, he tried again: "what are you doing here?"

"I came to check on the house," Elain said, hating how breathy her voice sounded, the tremble in it she knew was forever interpreted as shock, or fear, instead of a burning, consuming desire. "The light was on and I thought maybe. Maybe something had happened," she trailed off uselessly, unable to tear her eyes from his beautifully flushed face.

"I. Oh, yes, I," he paused again, still staring wide eyed as though she was an apparition. "Let me just get out, I –"

"No," she said, too loud in the silent room, taking both herself and Lucien aback.

They stared each other, she could hear his fast heartbeat overlapping with the sound of her own pulse beating in her ears. She took a breath. "Don’t get out on my account."

As the words left her mouth she saw him breathe in sharply, and before he could say anything else she drew all the courage she possessed, strengthened by the desire in her veins, and said "Please. Don’t stop because of me."

He swallowed, eyes darkening even as he dragged himself forward to sit fully upright in the water, holding her gaze.

"Elain."

Just her name on his lips sent a thrill through her, the implicit question in his voice. A request, perhaps even a plea.

"Don’t stop," she said simply, unconsciously holding her breath as she waited for his answer.

The surprise was still lingering on his face, a thousand questions written there, but whatever he saw in her eyes seemed to be enough as he leaned back ever so slowly until he was once again reclining against head of the tub.

They were both silent, both barely breathing, as his hand slowly trailed itself back to where it had been before she interrupted, and she couldn’t help it, couldn’t stop her gaze from flickering down, down, to where he gripped himself again, cock flushed as pink as the blush still adorning his face.

She swallowed almost audibly, eyes snapping back to his.

Permission.

His body loosened and relaxed, bleeding out the tension that her appearance had caused, a small sigh drifting from his lips as he readjusted his hand, shifting in the water to get more comfortable before continuing the slow, dragging movement up and down the length of his shaft.

The water swirled around him, disturbed by the motion, and she watched mesmerised as it glinted golden from the light of the candles on the high shelf behind the tub, the hanging faelights in the air around her.

Watched too as the same water dripped down the length of his forearm every time it lifted out of the water, running in rivulets down the flexing muscles there.

His breath hitched, and she felt behind her ribs that same spark from before, now recognising it for the insistent desire that was coursing through Lucien as he pleasured himself. Cheeks heating, she wondered how much he had felt of her own desperate, late night sessions this past season, if he had felt her need for him as she touched herself.

Considering she had not felt him until they were in the house together, she hoped with embarrassment that it went both ways. She had not had much self-control of late, consumed by thoughts of him almost every night, of his warmth, his scent, the way his strong hands had cradled her head, her waist, as they kissed.

"Gods," he whimpered, and she drew her mind back to the present, watching intently as his eyes fell closed, brow furrowing as his hand sped up. The sound heated the pool of want in her, and it was all she could do to stifle an answering moan, feeling her own body respond.

What would those long, deft fingers feel like against her, she wondered, as she watched them twist over the flushed head of his cock. How well could they take her apart.

The image flew through her mind before she could stop it, him resting between her thighs, staring up at her with a devilish smile as he thrust his fingers inside her, the other hand driving her closer and closer with the pressure against her clit. A vision or a fantasy. Sometimes it was hard to distinguish between the two, but she fervently hoped this one would come true.

"Elain," he said, sounding like he was biting back a groan. She met his eyes again, flush deepening. Of course, as she could feel the sparks of heat as he fisted himself, he would be able to feel her desire from where it had began throbbing between her legs.

She tensed her thighs tighter together in an attempt to lessen the pressure, skirts shifting and sparkling in the low light.

"So good," he murmured, and she felt heat rush through her at the words.

Lucien’s other hand had come down to rest on his thigh, fingers pressing tightly against the smooth skin there, nails digging in just slightly as if he couldn’t control the amount of pressure he was using. Each slick twist of his wrist over his cock had them digging in sharper, and she could feel through the bond flashes of the pleasure-pain that it brought him, feel as it drew him closer to the edge.

Her breathing sped up to match his as his need crested, the slickness between her thighs increasing with each burst of want.

"Elain," he choked, and there was no mistaking the moan in his voice this time.

She dragged her gaze away from his cock to watch as his face twisted in pleasure, unable to keep his eyes open as it consumed him. She felt it, his cresting desire through the bond between them, felt as the tight ache gave way to blindingly clear pleasure, golden and slick and euphoric.

He groaned deep and low in his chest, and she watched him spill over his fist, ropes of thick cum coating his glistening pectorals, his abdomen.

Opening his eyes, he held her gaze, and despite the deep contentment she saw there the intensity and the heat made her squirm. Neither of them spoke for a moment. The ache between her thighs grew steadier and more evident the longer she looked at him. Everything she could think to say felt wrong, too flippant, or too embarrassing, too forward. But she had to say something, the silence becoming unbearable.

“I. I see you made it back alright. From your trip,” she stuttered, wincing internally.

“Indeed, my lady,” Lucin replied, still faintly out of breath, but with a hint of a smirk pulling at his lips.

“That’s…” she cast around for another word, anything at all to say, and came up blank.

He watched her flounder, then smiled.

“Would you hand me a towel, please,” he said, straightening up, flicking a hand to clear the mess from his abdomen and start the tub draining.

Glad to have something to do that didn’t involve staring blankly at him, Elain turned to find a towel in the open cabinet behind her. She took a couple of steadying breaths, trying to calm her racing heart and burning arousal. By the time she turned around she felt slightly more at ease, and he had stepped out of the tub and was standing dripping on the rug.

He held out a hand, expecting her to hand the towel over, but for the second time that night she drew her courage together and stepped closer. Without meeting his eyes, she drew the soft fabric over the skin on his neck, trailing across his shoulder, down his smooth, glistening chest.

When she reached the space below his navel she paused, and he must have read something in the tension that surrounded her because he placed his hand over hers, gently raising it back up to his neck, so that she was made to look up at him.

His expression was so unguarded she felt almost that she shouldn’t be looking, as if she could see every vulnerability within him in that moment.

“You don’t need to do that,” he said gently, still holding her hand, giving it a squeeze.

“I want to,” she said simply. And she did, despite her uncertainty. She wanted to care for him, make him feel good and be made to feel good in return. But how to ask, she had no idea where to start. She felt him take in a breath, and waited.

“Have you … before I mean?”

She knew he wasn’t talking about drying him off, felt his own uncertainty through the bond.

“Yes,” she murmured, watching the flickering light from the candles dance across his cheek and spark in his golden eye.

“I didn’t, I mean, I thought you wanted to wait, a while.”

It was almost endearing to hear him tripping over the words, would even have been amusing if she didn’t feel seconds from collapsing under the weight of her own desire for him.

“I want you, Lucien,” she said, as steadily as she could manage.

He nodded slightly in response, and some of the tension in her melted away. It felt good, not to be questioned, to have him take her at her word. To have him know exactly what she meant, and respond equally.

He kept still, but she could feel his own want for her through the bridge connecting them. It had not dimmed, she realised, not once since she walked through the door.

Feeling bold, she raised the hand not holding the towel and smoothed it over his chest, sliding it along the heated skin there and up over his fine collarbone. Letting her do as she pleased, he titled his neck slightly and she cradled her hand around the back of it, trailing her fingertips over the wet strands of his fiery hair, gripping it.

“If you pull on it, I’ll have to kiss you,” he said, voice low and intoned with humour.

She smiled, the last of her uncertainty seeming to fade away with the action. This was Lucien. Her mate. He knew how to set her at ease, knew how to care for her. He would not push her any further than she wanted to go, nor would he shy away from her desire.

Grinning, she tightened her hold, and pulled him forward.

The first press of their mouths was soft, exploratory. A reassurance as much as a promise of more. After her lips parted and he licked into her mouth, it quickly descended into heat, sparking up her spine as if no time had passed since she had watched him bring himself to climax, need crashing into her again.

She moaned into the kiss, the wet slide of their mouths, the heat of his skin where his arms encircled her, his spiced rich scent invading all of her senses. How could simple kissing make her feel this way, as if she was on fire, as if she burned from the inside, every pore in her body filling with desire for him.

He broke away from her lips with a groan, pressing a burning line of kisses down her throat, stopping only when he met the fabric of her dress.

She wanted him to rip it off her, wanted to feel those lips all over her body, wanted no barrier left between them. But he broke away, kissing her again fiercely as if in response to her thoughts. His hands gripped her waist, pulling her flush against him, and she could feel the heat from his naked body even through the fabric.

Panting, they split apart, her breath coming in quick gasps, and she stared up at him, the pupil in his russet eye blown wide, the blush staining his golden skin, lips parted and wet with their combined spit.

“You’re beautiful,” she said, hushed, and could have sworn surprise flickered behind his eyes before he smiled.

“As are you, Elain,” he said, pressing a tender kiss to her cheek.

Then he dropped to his knees.

---

A/N: Any comments are much appreciated - I've not written for this fandom before so pls be gentle. Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated - part two should hopefully be out soon ;)

[purpleknighty]

Do I Wanna Know?

Pairing: Agent!Haerin x Agent!Fem!Reader

Summary: Now a rouge spy, fleeing from the old agency you once worked for, you find yourself at a familiar doorstep you never thought you’d see again.

Warnings/tags: violence, mentions of blood and injuries, small angst, enemies to lovers(?), reader and haerin are off and on, heavy emphasis on communication, misunderstandings(?), tell me if I missed anything else

Tonight has been shit, nothing has worked out in your favor, everything keeps getting worse and worse.

At first, you assumed it was very badly timed coincidences. You walk into a bar for starters, college students being the loudest customers there. 20 minutes into enjoying your drink, a suspicious group of men walk in, eyeing you up and down.

They whisper among each other, stealing glances at your seated frame, but you feel their eyes on the back of your head.

You keep calm, waiting to see who makes the first move. The men do, and as they itch closer, you realize they look like agents that you use to work with.

Fuck that.

You pay for the two drinks you had, a gin tonic and a strawberry sunset, bolting out the doors with the group falling after you.

It becomes an annoying game of cat and mouse, the racing after your car, the unnecessary shooting, the rookie mistakes they keep making, it was all just headache inducing.

That same group purposely took a different route to corner you, five guys in black suits coming out to bring you back to headquarters.

You denied their request upon getting out the car, not caring about how wanted you are within the agency, how much of a target is on your back or how much money the higher uppers are offering these stupid rookies to bring you back.

You could give two shits about it.

Your refusal results in an all-out-brawl, which was very unfair in your case, five guys all jumping one person? Now that’s just plain dirty. You win through experience but you don’t leave the battlefield unscathed, one of those bastard had slashed you with his knife, adding another wound that needs to heal.

At this point, wounded, bleeding and tired and the clock passing midnight. It was best to go home and clean up before resting.

But somehow, your body goes on autopilot. Foot pressing on the gas, hands turning the steering wheel into a familiar place, onto a familiar road and oops, now you’re standing at a familiar doorstep.

This is a bad idea. You should turn back around. It’s all the blood loss getting to your head.

Despite the voices telling you to not follow through, you do it anyways. Knocking with your free hand as the other presses a flimsy cloth over your cut to stop the bleeding.

You wait a few seconds before doing it again, ignoring how slowly you’re starting to become dizzy and lightheaded. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea after all.

Passing out in front of your enemy’s(?) doorstep isn’t a good look on you or anyone.

As you’re about to give up, grumbling curses under your breath, the door opens. A set of cat eyes stare through the cracked door, suspicious but upon seeing your silhouette, the door flys open.

There, she stands in all her sleepy glory. Hair slightly disheveled, sleep shorts with a tank top on adores her body and cat eyes that still make your heart flutter and chest tighten.

Yup, it’s definitely the blood loss now.

“What happened?” She breaks the silence, dark eyes sinking in your injured frame. White shirt now stained red from your blood and others, dark jeans covered in dirt from all the times you were thrown into the ground of that god-awful alleyway.

A dry chuckle leaves your lips, causing you to cough up. “You know,” A half-smile finds its way onto your face. “Being hunted all night, the fun stuff.”

Haerin huffs, making sure the coast is clear by looking down her hallway. Seeing no one but you and her awake at this hour, she gently pulls you in.

“Let’s..” She pauses, eyes lingering on you. “Let’s get you cleaned up so you can get out of my house.”

Wow, such a friendly welcoming.

You hiss at the pain, hands gripping the armrest at your sides. You can never get use to this, snitches. No matter how many wounds you have received as your time as an agent, you will never get use to getting snitches.

Your head falls back to lay on the headrest of the office chair, a sigh of relief can be heard, aware this painful procedure is done and over with.

“How did this happen?” Haerin speaks softly, fingertip lightly circling and messaging around the wound as to not hurt you.

You ignore the groan that threatens to spill from your throat, ignoring the feeling of desire everytime you look at Haerin.

You know you can’t have her but that’s what keeps pulling you in, what keeps making you come back.

You run a hand through your hair, utterly exhausted. “Rookie agents were sent after me. Found my ass in a bar downtown.”

You watch Haerin’s brows frown, almost like she’s lost in thought before collecting herself and standing up from her kneeling position.

“Why are you here? You are a target, coming here makes me an enemy as well, you know?” The cat-eyed girl looks back over her shoulder, only to shake her head at seeing you once again, this time bruised and wounded.

“I work for the same agency that’s after you, Y/n. A hefty amount of money is being offered to whoever can successfully bring you back, dead or alive.”

The raven haired traces her pointer finger over the barrel of your pistol that lays unsupervised on her desk, petite fingers are quick to grab the gun, now your own weapon is being pointed at you.

“I could kill you right now. You’re tired, open, and vulnerable. I could end this nuisance and bring you back to headquarters myself.”

She’s right, Haerin could kill you right now and you wouldn’t have the energy to fight back. Your knife is too on her desk but she stands right next to it which puts you at an disadvantage, and she knows you have a big slash on the side of your stomach, another disadvantage to you.

Your life on the line, the barrel to your gun in point blank range to your face, you should be scared.. but you’re not.

You can’t stop thinking about how the moonlight makes Haerin the most beautiful woman alive, even more than she already is. Cat eyes that keep you hooked, a smile or grin or smirk that makes you weak in the knees, or a laugh that makes you wish things were different.

You wished you and Haerin met under different circumstances.

Maybe then things could’ve worked out better between you two.

“Then kill me. You have the opportunity, Haerin. Take it.”

She sighs, arms dropping, a small smile graces her pretty lips.

“You’re so stupid, dingus.”

God, you love when she calls you that.

Miss it even.

A dorky smile breaks out before you can stop it, eyes filled with so much emotion for the cat-eyed woman. You just hope the dimmed moonlight doesn’t expose too much.

Then a harsh jolt of pain flashes up your spine from a simple gesture, reminding you of the real reason why you’re here, why you’re sitting in Haerin’s apartment to begin with.

It ruins the mood greatly.

You go to stand up, abruptly becoming lightheaded and close to losing your balance. Haerin’s eyes widen in worry, rushing to your side as you try to re-focus your vision.

“Sorry,” You murmur, seeing the slight mess you made. “Stood up too quickly.” Haerin frowns, eyes glancing up to your face then back down to your cut.

She bites her lip before speaking, “Stay.” She says it so softly that it scratches your brain in a way that just feels right. “You’re injured.. stay for the night.”

She shyly finishes, not sure if her hands on your arms are there to keep you or her steady, you don’t mind the warmth though.

The request feels tempting, is this how Eve felt when the snake whispered for her to eat the forbidden fruit?

Inner conflict arose, your heart tells you to do it, take her up on her offer. Once in a lifetime opportunity, but your mind says no. It’ll feel good in the moment, but will it help you in the long run?

Haerin is already breaking protocols, giving aid to someone the higher ups deem to be an enemy. If they catch wind of this.. Haerin might be outcasted, thrown out of the agency and ending up in the same situation you’re in.

A wanted agent, a criminal who’s on the run from an organization that’s wants you dead.

Yeah, this was a bad idea after all.

You forcefully have to pull yourself away Haerin’s grasp, choosing to ignore the look of disappointment that comes across her face.

“Where you going?” She breaks the silence, voice quiet, watching your back muscles flex as you reach out for your ruined shirt.

“Leaving.”

Cat eyes stare daggers into you, brows now stuck in a permanent frown.

“Why? I said you can stay for the night.” The feeling of annoyance seeps into your veins, wondering why Haerin’s starting this now.

“No reason. I’m just getting myself out of your hair.”

She stops you from grabbing your gun, the small puddle of annoyance expanding from the action. A sigh of frustration slips pass your lips, running a hand through your hair.

“Haerin.”

“Stay, Y/n. You’re injured.”

“That hasn’t stopped me before.”

“Well, I’m stopping you now.”

Your eye twitches, why won’t she let you leave? She’s let you walked out on multiple occasions, but why now? Why stop you now?

You scoff, now isn’t the time for your emotions to get in the way. You shove past her, grabbing what belongs to you from her desk and making your way through her bedroom door.

But Haerin isn’t one to give up easily (one of many traits that you love about her) and forcefully grabs onto your forearm, halting you for putting your shoes on.

“Haerin- I swear to god—“ But you stop upon looking back at her. Now there’s a clear look of sadness, dark brown eyes are slightly teary and her grip tightens on your skin.

She looks so small and fragile, so vulnerable and soft. Even through your shoving and pushing, Haerin has always been gentle and patient.

Never one to swear, even when upset or angry. Always polite and quiet.

You still can’t fathom why she chose to become an agent with her shy and timid demeanor.

“Please..”

Her voice cracks, trying to push back the sniffles and tears that threaten to fall.

“Stay.. please..”

Her pleads and begs get muffled and drowned out by your lips. Her broken voice echoing through the empty walls of her apartment, almost as if it’s haunting and taunting your very existence.

Your hand finds way to the back of her head, burying itself in her silky locks. The other placed on her waist to pull her closer, needing her scent to linger on your skin.

This kiss feels different, like there’s a hidden message behind it. A message Haerin can’t express with words but can convey with body language.

You pull back when oxygen becomes a problem, your warm breath fanning over her lips and your heat engulfing her into a comforting embrace.

“I’ve missed you..” She whispers, finally spilling. Her palms rest above your chest before scrunching the ruined fabric in her grasp.

“I’ve been worried after everything happened.. I got even more worried when Headquarter started sending agents after you..”

She pauses, observing you quietly as she continues to talk.

It’s one of those rare moments when Haerin talks and never stops.

“Was it really that bad?”

You shrug, not wanting to think about how chaotic your life has been since and focus more on the woman in your arms.

“I broke protocol, and I mean a bunch of them too when I was working. The higher ups have always been strict about their rules.”

She nuzzles into your neck, the act resembling a cat. Your heart speeds up, pumping and butterflies forming.

“You went MIA for months..” You crack a small smile at her voice.

“Had to keep a low profile. Didn’t wanna die so early into my retirement.”

You go to move, which prompts the brunette to cling on to you tighter. God, she’s gonna be the death of you.

“Relax, kitty.” You press a reassuring kiss to her temple, the brief smell of her shampoo easily evaporates any worries you might’ve had for the night.

“Just going to take my shoes off, I’m not going anywhere.”

She smiles into your neck, looking up at you through her lashes, cat eyes instantly turning you smitten. A faint blush creeps over her cheeks and up to the tips of her ears.

Attractive, ethereal, magnificent, beautiful.

Kang Haerin makes you feel alive.

You let your emotions win once again that night, choosing to bask in what it would feel like to fall in love with Haerin without death knocking at your front door.

And honestly.. now you don’t wanna know.

[dragon-kazansky]

The song in our hearts

Lestat De Lioncourt x Female Reader

A musician with a heart that sings and an admirer who wishes to see his songbird thrive. Two beings in different worlds get caught up in each other when someone threatens to steal his songbird's spotlight. Loving Lestat isn't simple, and your life will never be the same again. What is eternity without chaos?

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Chapter Two - Duet

“A date? With your mystery man?” She squeals. It didn't take much to make Amelie happy, but this felt like she could burst with joy any moment.

“Yes. Well, no. It's not technically a date. He has asked me to join him in his home to play for him.”

Amelie stares at you with wide brown eyes. “At his home?”

“Yes…”

“Should I come with you? I mean, is that safe? You don't actually know this man.” Her concern grows in an instant.

“Well, I…” You didn't really think. You had been swept away in the moment, lured in by his pretty eyes and sweet words.

“You have to be careful. He could be a creep.”

You bow your head down slightly and sigh. You were a little embarrassed to admit you had pretty much rushed into it and agreed to go to some strange man's house. 

Amelie sees the expression on your face and steps forward, placing a hand on your shoulder. “Look, how about I come with you, but stay outside? If there's trouble, scream.”

You smile. “Alright. Thank you, Amelie.”

“Hey, that's what friends are for.”

Amelie walks you home that night. She makes sure you're safe inside your home before heading home herself.

The next week your performance goes pretty much the same way. However, while playing your piano, you can't spot your admirer at all in the crowd. That makes you feel a little down. You finish your performance and head back to your dressing room.

The flowers on your dressing table brightens your mood. Amelie is sitting in the stool waiting for you. She offers a small smile as you walk over and check the note in the flowers.

‘Tonight. 10pm.’

His address is written underneath. Amelie looks down at the note and then up at you. “Are you sure?”

You stare at his nice handwriting. “No… but I'm going to do it anyway.”

“Okay,” she says softly, grabbing her coat. You grab yours and take her arm as you both leave the theater. You don't tell the manager of the theater where you're both going. You know exactly what he would say.

When you reach the street Lestat lives on, both you and Amelie stop to look up at the building. It's not the kind of place you could afford, that's for sure. Lestat definitely has money.

“This guy is too good to be true,” Amelie comments. You don't reply, only look up at the balcony where you see him standing. He's watching you silently. “So, you going in?”

“Yeah.”

Amelie removes her arm from yours and watches you cross over toward the house. She remains on the other side of the road, making herself comfortable near the wall of the opposite building. You approached the gates and let yourself through.

You knock on the door and within a few moments it's opened. Lestat stands there with a smile, his eyes lit up with delight. He's wearing a suit, similar to what he had worn the previous week.

“Hello,” you greet him shyly.

Lestat grins. “Hello.” He holds his hand out, gesturing for you to enter his home. You take a step through the door and walk into the hall. Lestat closes the door behind you. You turn to your right and see the living room. 

Lestat comes up beside you. “Make yourself comfortable.”

You glance at him and then head over to the sofas, taking a seat. You keep looking around the room taking it all in. Just how much money did he have? Not that you cared for money, but Lestat was obviously proud to show off.

“You look nervous.” He takes a seat across from you and crosses one leg over the other. “Is that why your friend wants for you outside?” He chuckles.

“Uh… Well… She was just worried about me.”

“Do I make you nervous?”

You swallow thickly and then nod your head. His grin grows wide and he begins to chuckle again. He found you so amusing.

“You wanted me to play the piano for you, yes?” You ask, needing to move along the conversion. You're not sure how to feel about him staring at you the way he was.

“Yes.” Lestat stands up rather quickly and you follow him with your eyes as he walks right past you. Turning in your seat, you watch him approach a piano. You hadn't noticed it there when you came in, too occupied with him.

Lestat beckons you over. You stand and make your way over to him, putting a little distance between you both. He wears a smile, bus doesn't say anything about the distance. He simply gestures to the piano bench. You glance at it before sitting on it.

“Play me something.”

“Any requests?” You ask, feeling nervous all of a sudden. Normally having a large audience is enough to set your anxiety off, but tonight it was just him.

“Your favourite piece.”

You look at the keys and slowly hover your fingers over them. Your favourite piece. Ah yes. You know what to play.

You begin.

Lestat watches the way your hands move along the keys. He listens to the notes you grace him with. Music fills his home and for the first time in a long time he feels something stirring within him. Listening to you play was like having a spell cast over him. 

He closes his eyes and listens.l to every note. You had talent. Beautiful talent. The whole world should hear you play as far as he was concerned. 

He only reopened his eyes when he noticed you had finished. You were looking at him expectantly.

He smiles. “Perfect.”

You smile too.

“You, my dear, have talent. To hear your play is my greatest delight. I hope you never stop sharing your music.”

His words please you. Other than those in the theater, you didn't get to hear many other compliments. Lestat was new and exciting to you.

“If I may?” He gestures to the piano.

“Oh, um, yes, of course.” You go to get up but he waves his hand.

“No, remain seated. I wish to join you.” He slides onto the bench with you. 

You're hyper aware of how close he is to you as he opens a book of sheet music up and props it up on the stand. “Please allow me the honor of paying this piece with you.”

You glance at the sheet music. Your heart is racing in your chest. He wants to make music with you. His hands are hovering over the keys waiting for you to join him. You move your hands into the same position and wait for his cue. He counts down quietly in French and you both begin to follow the music sheet.

Once again the room is filled with music. Two pairs of hands dance across the keys of the piano, almost chasing each other. The thought that he is perhaps playing a game with you crosses your mind and it makes you smile.

He wanted you to feel welcome in his presence.

One of his hands crosses over yours to play a note on your side and you can't help laughing slightly. You decide to play the same game and do the same on his side. Neither of you are even looking at the sheet of music anymore. The music plays without a hitch, with you both knowing this piece by heart. It has become a moment of bonding. A moment of trust.

Lestat smiles.

When you reach for the last note his little finger on his left hand brushes along your hand. His skin was cold, but you were a little more focused on how you were feeling to take much note of anything else.

“You look flushed.”

You look up at him feeling a little shy again.

“Why don't we get comfortable over there?” He asks, standing up. He holds out his hand to you. You glance at it before accepting his hand. He helps you up and guides you over the sofas again.

You sit down and he decides to sit beside you this time. He smiles as he watches you.

“I am… enamored with your talent.”

“I am flattered, but… I also don't understand. What's so special about my music?”

Lestat leans forward slightly. “I know pure talent when I see it. You possess it so naturally.”

“Not really. I spent many hours with my piano over the years.”

“And yet it comes naturally to you now. At what point did you stop reading the music I chose?” He smiles.

You look at him with a soft expression realizing what he was saying. You supposed he was right. You didn't need sheet music. You never used any when you performed, and he had noticed.

“Watching you perform always makes my night and I want you to never stop playing.”

You can't help but stare into his eyes as he looks at you. You're lured in by his gaze, his voice, his smile.

“So, you just want me to keep on playing?” You ask.

He chuckles. “Yes, and perhaps come here again from time to time to play for me.”

You smile. “I'd like that…”

You had enjoyed your time here in his home. You still don't know much about Lestat De Lioncourt, but you hoped that might change soon.

“Wonderful.” He grins. He reaches out and lightly brushes some hair behind your ear. You can only stare at him.

“I should let you get back to your friend before she thinks something untoward has happened.” He chuckles.

You snap out of your haze. “Oh, right… Amelie…”

Lestat chuckled again and rose from his seat. “You still look flushed. Perhaps some air will do you well.”

You rise from your own seat and nod, not trusting your voice right now. Lestat guides you to the door and leans against it once it's open.

“I have enjoyed having you in my home.” He smiles.

“Me too… I mean, I have enjoyed being here.”

Lestat chuckles and looks out through the gates. He can see Amelie waiting impatiently for you. He can hear her thoughts of concern. His lips twitch as he turns back to you. “Don't be a stranger.”

You smile at him and take your leave.

Amelie meets you halfway across the road and loops her arm with yours instantly. “Well? What happened? What did you do? How did it go? Is he a creep?”

You smile softly as you look at her. “I played piano with him. It was a nice evening, and no, he is not a creep. He is… strange.”

“Strange?”

“There is something about him I can't put my finger on, but I like him. He was very nice to me.” 

Amelie can tell by your little dreamy smile that you are thinking about him. She is both concerned and amused by these turns of events. As long as you're safe, she will support your choices. You know this.

Amelie takes you home.

As you walk away with her, Lestat, standing on his balcony, watches you go. His lips are curled into a grin, and he feels like the luckiest man in the world tonight.

@awanderingghost @theprettiesthead @cosmixstar @theblueslytherin @katherine2098 @sawendel @floofdeloop @sitkafay @bigbaddie45 @bluscryn

@secretisme4

[theelementofsurprise505]

After the storm

Alex Turner x Reader

summary: a heated argument.

warnings: angst, swearing, blood?, some fluff at the end.

You and Alex were married, however during the last year things had changed. You’d often notice how he became cold and more distant, there was rarely a moment when you two weren’t fighting.

Tonight was no different, you were in the car driving home from a restaurant after an argument there, the car abruptly came to a halt, making you slightly jump forwards in your seat. Alex pulled over onto the side of the road, gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles went white and staring straight out onto the dark road.

“get out” he said in a low and angry tone, not once moving his gaze off the road or unclenching his hands from the wheel, he didn’t care how you got home, he just wanted you far away from him right now.

“what?” you spat, turning to face him, bewildered as to his ridiculous demand.

“did i stutter? i said get out.” he finally turned to look at you, his tone filled with bitterness and anger, his face was cold, you couldn’t believe he was kicking you out the fucking car.

“don’t be stupid Alex i’m not getting out the car” he was being stupid, it was pouring with rain, no way he’d actually force you to get out and walk home.

He slammed his fist against the steering wheel with a loud thud, the sudden action made me jump, he’s never acted out as harsh as this before,“please, just fucking get out!” he was shouting now, bringing a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose, inhaling a sharp breath before letting out a lengthy sigh, refusing to look at me any longer.

“you know what! fine” you harshly undid your seatbelt and opened the car door, slamming it shut with a huff before watching him immediately speed off. The walk back home was only about 20 minutes but the rain didn’t show signs of stopping, you were getting drenched by the second.

As Alex drove home, he felt a pang of guilt for forcing you to walk home in the rain, but he quickly pushed that feeling to the back of his mind, still blinded by rage.

Once he arrived home he slammed the front door shut, heading straight into the kitchen and pouring himself a glass of whiskey, he placed the glass down with so much force it smashed, he let out a sharp hiss as one of the shards sliced his hand, adding fuel to the fire he turned round and in a fit of rage punched his hand into the cupboard.

“shit” he immediately recoiled, the seething pain spreading through his knuckles as he walked over to the sink, running his hand under the tap and assessing the cuts from the glass, luckily they were only minor and didn’t need sever medical attention.

You debated on walking home or staying at a friends tonight, but ultimately you decided to just go home and try and sort things out with Alex, avoiding him would only escalate things when you got home. Sometimes you wondered where your Alex went, the man you fell in love with all those years ago, you ended up getting so caught up in your thoughts you didn’t even realise you were now stood outside your front door.

wiping away the few stray tears that escaped, you opened the door and stepped in, the house was silent. You took off your dripping wet coat and placed it on the radiator, walking further into the house.

“Al?” you called out after entering the living room and not seeing him. Upon walking into the kitchen you saw the broken glass scattered on the counter and the floor, you let out a lengthy sigh, grabbing the broom and cleaning up the glass, being careful not to touch any of it or hurt yourself.

You perked up when you heard a low grunt coming from upstairs, you wandered up to find Alex, walking into your bedroom and seeing the bathroom light on.

Slowly stepping in, you saw Alex sat on the edge of the bath trying to wrap his hand up in a bandage and failing miserably. without saying anything you walked over and took the bandage from him, putting it on the counter and reaching for the small first aid kit you kept on the top shelf.

“i don’t need your help, im fine” he spat, still pissed, great.

you simply ignored him and pulled out some anti septic wipes and began dabbing at his hand with them, he let out a small hiss as the liquid burned, seeping into the wounds. you grabbed a fresh bandage and wrapped it around his knuckles, securing it with some tape.

you sat down on the edge of the bath next to him, silence engulfing you, the only sounds being heard was your breathing and the quiet hum of the light.

“i hate this al, im sick of fighting all the time” you finally spoke, not turning to face him and still staring at the floor.

he lifted his hand to his face, dragging it down his chin before letting out a sigh, “i know” he didn’t want to admit it but he felt guilty now for letting one stupid argument escalate that far.

you chewed on your lip for a few seconds, debating your next words, “i love you, you know?” you turned to face him, his expression was unreadable. he was silent for a moment, finally averting his gaze and looking at you, his face softened for a second, no longer showing signs of him being angry and hostile, for a split second you saw your al, the man you loved despite it all.

“i love you too” he sounded genuine, he felt remorseful about how he acted out earlier, yeah you fought often but he had never acted out like did tonight. unexpectedly he pulled you into a hug, engulfing you in his arms and resting his head atop yours.

you were slightly taken aback, Alex was rarely affectionate towards you anymore, you’d missed this. You relaxed into his arms, breathing his familiar scent, bringing your arms up to wrap around his middle.

“i’m sorry” he placed a soft kiss on your head, his words merely a whisper.

“i just-“ he sighed, “things are just so stressful at the minute, everyone in the studio is on my case about the album deadline and its doing my head in, i didn’t mean to take it out on you”. He slightly hung his head in shame.

your lips pressed together, forming a line as you brought a hand up to soothingly rub his back, “it’s okay al, i get it.” you offered him a small smile.

“you do?” he held his head up to look at you, you could tell he was tired, the rings around his eyes prominent aswell as the small crease above his brows.

you nodded and rested your head on his shoulder, basking in this moment of peace, the first you’d had in a long time. He wrapped his arms around you and you sat there, together, with everything feeling right again.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

a/n: sorry it’s been awhile, this has been sitting in my drafts for ages but i thought it lacked detail, atleast it’s something!

not proof read so if there are mistakes i apologise.

[bfiaflbox]

Tonight I wish I was your girl

Pairing: Matty x Reader Warnings: smut (praise kink, choking, unprotected sex) Disclaimer: Ok, so I literally had a dream about this and then decided to write it down and make it a fic. I swear, I'm not weird, I just tried to put the pictures from my dream into words. Also, in my dream Matty was sitting in the pub with Pete Doherty (who had "Fuck" tattooed on his forehead (??) and Zane Lowe but there was no scenario on earth that I could come up with that made that believable in any way so I took that out. (Fun fact: in my dream I did something my anxious ass would never do and just went up to Zane Lowe, ignoring everyone, and just asked "are you interviewing them or just having a conversation? I'm just asking because I love The Libertines (a lie) and the... the... The Matty Band" and he was just like "who are you I'm not interviewing anyone, this is rude"). Also my dream ended when they arrived at the house so the rest is made up.

2.6k words and I didn't proofread any of them.

It was probably a pathetic Idea but your intuition told you to get on a train and head to Wilmslow on Christmas Eve.

Your plans of spending Christmas had fallen flat because large parts of your family had contracted Covid and wanted to stay by themselves to not spread the disease. In a desperate attempt to not feel lonely, you looked up train connections to any of your friends houses that might take you in for Christmas, but there really was only one person you really wanted to see.

Two hours and seventeen minutes and you'd be in Wilmslow via Stockport. You booked the connection without thinking twice. It was only when you were actually sitting in the Avanti West Coast Train to Manchester Piccadilly at Euston station that you thought about how crazy your actions were. They were the actions of a desperate idiot in love. There was no denying you were in love with Matty but there was a great chance that to him you were probably just a friend. Just as you decided that this was a bad idea and you should go home now, the train started to move.

After a short panic attack and contemplating whether or not using the emergency break was warranted in this situation you decided to just text Matty.

You: Hey, are you having a nice time in Wilmslow?

Matty: Yeah. Well, it's family, love them but it can be a lot at once. Might head to the pub tonight to catch up with some old friends. What are you up to?

You: Nothing really. Since Christmas is cancelled this year, I'll just... improvise. Your plan sounds nice, though.

Matty: Yeah, something's missing though, to be honest. Or someone.

You just assumed he was talking about his grandma or a different family member and didn’t give it a second thought.

Me: Hope you have a great time nonetheless :)

///

You arrived in Wilmslow in the afternoon. On the train you had decided that once you arrived you'd walk around town a bit and then to get the next train home again because surprising your crush on Christmas Eve in his hometown is not the thing a normal person would do and you were definitely a very normal person and not at all a stalker.

You got out of wilmslow station and started to just walk straight ahead and see where the road would take you. You walked past parks and restaurants and shops that looked lovely but were mostly closed. Eventually the area became more residential and you couldn't help but notice that you tried to look into the windows of the houses in search of Matty. Right, that's it. It's getting dark and this is ridiculous you scolded yourself as you turned around to head back to the station.

As you walked by The Brewhouse and Kitchen you decided to get something to eat before heading back to London. The pub was crowded as you walked in. No wonder, it was one of the very few pubs that was open.

You looked around for a table to sit at when you spot Matty. You stare at him in shock. He's actually here. He sat in a corner booth with two other guys and had yet to notice you. Just as you were thinking about how you could make your way out of this scenario, Matty turned his head and looked right at you. You were fucked. There was no denying you were here now. His eyes grew wide and he stared at you with raised eyebrows. Right, this was definitely a mistake you thought but Matty waved you over to them excitedly.

When you didn't move because you were too embarrassed to do anything, Matty got up and made his way over to you. "Hii, darling, what are you doing here?" he asks excitedly. You couldn't answer. How do you tell someone that your family cancelled christmas, you were lonely and decided to go to the other person's hometown without telling them a word about it? Instead you just went up to him and hugged him. His arms enveloped you in one of his strong and warm hugs and it felt so incredibly good to be near him. "Surprise" you mumble into his chest. "Surprise indeed" he laughed. "It's so nice to see you. Come, sit with us." He lead you back to the table he shared with his mates.

After introducing you as his good friend and ordering your drink, Matty couldn't sit still. He was fumbling with either his glass, the table decorations or his fingernails until you decided to just take one of his hands in yours. An intimate gesture, you were aware of that, but it felt right and trusting your intuition was what helped you get here in the first place. Matty just looked at you with pure adoration and love as you felt him physically relax a bit.

After two more rounds of drinks, everybody decided to call it a night. You paid and made your way out of the pub where you said goodbye to Matty's mates. When they were gone, there was a brief silence between you until Matty spoke with the usual unserious tone: "You're so weird for coming to Wilmslow. How did you know where to find me?" "I didn't. I just walked around and... dunno" "I love that you're here. Come home with me?" "What and crash your familiy's Christmas, definitely not!" "Please? I can't let you take the train at this hour, it's dangerous!" we both know that's a lie "Also, what's waiting for you back in London? Please stay, my family won't mind, we're a pile of patchwork anyways" You looked at him and saw that he was actually excited about the idea. You just kept looking, noticing the light stubble on his face, the grey strands of hair at his temples, the eyebrows raised in anticipation and his lips. These fucking lips. You took your hand and raked your fingers through his hair. His eyes fluttered shut in enjoyment, a dopey smile forming on his lips. You decided then and there that you couldn't take it anymore. You could not go another second without knowing how his lips felt on yours, so you went up on your tiptoes, your hand anchored at the back of his head and crushed your lips to his. His hands came up to cup your face and you felt him reciprocating and deepening the kiss.

Your ears were ringing and your body felt like it was on fire. There's nothing else that mattered in that moment other than his lips on yours. After a few seconds you break the kiss and just smile. He's the first one to speak: "So it's settled then?"

You don't know if he meant the months of pining after each other or the question whether you'd stay or not but to both you just grinned and nodded.

He takes your hand and starts walking. It wasn't awkward, it was exciting. There was a lot of giggling and stopping randomly to snog on the way home but eventually Matty pointed to a house and said "that's us" as if you had always been a part of this and there had never not been an us.

Before putting his keys into the door he stops for a second and goes "Oh fuck, I'm sharing a room with my brother". You looked at him questioningly but he just continued "We have to be quiet, everybody's asleep". He opened the door and once you were inside he was on you, kissing your mouth, your jaw, a line down your throat to your collar bone. You couldn't help but let out an obscene moan and suddenly Matty stopped. He was looking at you with big eyes, raised eyebrows and a finger over his mouth that was curled into a smile, signaling to be quiet. "Sorry, sorry, fuck" you whispered with a giggle.

"Let's take the couch and figure something out in the morning" he suggested. "I can just take the couch and you sleep in your normal bed" "Baby, do you seriously think I will let you sleep alone tonight? Let alone on the couch in a house where nobody knows you are even there? If you'll have me, of course" "I really don't want to be alone, thank you" He smiled at that and kissed your lips again. So soft and so gentle.

Matty lead you into the living room and closed the door after you. The couch looked comfy, a suspicion that was confirmed when you plopped down on it. Matty laid down on his side behind you, opening his arms signaling you to lie down too. When you relaxed into his embrace as the little spoon, you felt all the anxiety and doubt and all the bad feelings leaving you. Feeling Matty's embrace made you feel invincible.

The position also let you feel something else which was the bulge in his pants that was growing and pulsing against your ass. You felt proud that you had this effect on him and so you took his hand that was resting on your hand in front of you and placed it on your lower belly, pushing it further down, all while moving your hips back into his growing hard-on. Matty let out a small groan "baby, we can't, they could hear us" "Please, Matty! I need you" you whispered, sounding incredibly needy. His hands slid under the elastic of your leggings and your underwear. "You need to be really really quiet" he warned and you believed him. His hand in your underwear spread your folds and slid through them, gathering some of the slick that had accumulated there. "Fuuuck, baby, you're so wet. Look at that, so so needy for me" he whispered, at which you just nodded. You needed him, you wanted him. You were so horny and needed some of that feeling to be released. He slipped two fingers inside and immediately started to fuck you with them. The room stayed silent except for the squelching sound of his fingers in your wetness and some heavy breathing. His movements were unrelenting. In a normal situation you would've screamed by now but you were biting your knuckles in hopes of staying silent while your orgasm was fast approaching. "Will you come for me baby, hm? Come on my fingers like the needy little thing you are?" at which you just managed to nod. Your orgasm hit you and you almost choked on the moan that was threatening to escape your throat as your walls clenched around Matty's fingers.

"That's it, baby. You did so well, staying silent." he whispered, kissing your shoulder between each sentence and you knew then and there that you couldn't go to sleep now. You kept grinding your ass against his boner and soon enough he knew what you wanted. "Fuck, baby, I can't fuck you, I won't be able to keep quiet" he whispers in your ear. "That's not fair, I need you to fill me. I feel so empty" you pouted while sliding your underwear and leggings off your legs. You kept grinding your naked ass into his boner until he was out of patience. Annoyed he kicked off his trousers and boxer shorts, flipped you on your belly and and angrily whispered in your ear "I swear to god if you make one sound this will have been the first and last time" before he lined up his cock with your entrance and started pushing inside.

The intrusion of his cock in your pussy felt divine. He was bigger than you were used to, plus you were lying on your belly which emphasised the sensation. "Oh baby, do I need to rearrange your insides to make some room for myself?" he cooed while relentlessly pushing inside you. "you're so tight, fucking hell". He stopped for a second as he buttomed out. "You alright?" "Yes, yes" you nodded.

"Fuck, you're so beautiful" he said as he pulled out until only his tip was still buried in your pussy and then slammed inside again. The slap of his pelvis against my ass rang out through the otherwise silent room. You weren't sure if you could take a pounding like that without anything to muffle your sounds so you grabbed a pillow off the couch and bit down into it but Matty wouldn't have it. He grabbed the pillow and threw it away. "You wanted this, remember? You're gonna take it and you're gonna be nice and quiet" and with that he started to fuck you in an unforgiving pace. When you were close again, you couldn't help but let out the tiniest whimper. In response Matty's hand came up to your throat and squeezed. That's what did it for you and you came on his cock, any cries that could have existed got muffled by the chokehold on your neck. "Baby, it feels so good when you come on my cock. Like you were made for taking it deep in your pussy." Your head was dizzy from the orgasm, the restricted blood flow and the praise. How did he know about your praise kink? "Can you come a third time tonight, hm?" he whispered at which you just nodded. "Oh baby, I'm gonna have to hear words, how else can I be sure?" "Please, yes" is all you managed to choke out, not able to form coherent sentences. It's all that Matty needed to hear. "On all fours, come on" he directed you to your knees and then started pounding you again. In this position he was able to fuck you incredibly deeper. His cock hit your cervix and the jolt of light pain that this stimulation triggered was making you lightheaded again. You felt so full, so incredibly, wonderfully full. When Matty's hand came round to your clit to help that promised third orgasm along you knew he had to be be close himself. "Come on, baby, come for me. Come on my cock" he was drawing quick circles with his fingers on your clit. Suddenly you could feel him spilling his cum inside you and it all became too much. You let out an overstimulated cry as you came a third time.

Matty stilled, cock still inside you and you didn't dare to make a movement or a sound. Fuck, did anybody hear you? You stayed like this for a few moments and when neither of you could hear anything in the house, Matty pulled out of you. You let out a shaky breath at the feeling of the unwelcome emptiness. You stood up, bit shaky on your legs and faced Matty with an absolutely blissful smile on your lips. "Thank you", you whispered and kissed him at which Matty just chuckled "I don't think anybody ever thanked me after fucking them" "Well that's just rude, isn't it?" you laughed and kissed him again. When you were able to feel his cum running down your legs, you asked for the toilet. You cleaned yourself up, thanked your past self for getting that IUD and went back to the living room. Matty was lying on the couch again, waiting for you to slot into position as his little spoon. You happily obliged and made yourself comfortable in his arms. "What will you tell your family tomorrow?" "That my new girlfriend surprised me in town, came home with me and saw a ghost, obviously" "Obviously" You had to laugh at that.

"I'm glad you're here. I was missing you like crazy" he confessed and kissed your neck. "I'm glad, too" you whisper. Once you were able to hear a light snore behind you, you added "I love you".