#IT'S NOT THE SAME AS THE GAME THAT GAME GAVE ME LIKE... A ROUTINE! A REASON! SOMETHING TO BE EXCITED ABT!!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

softspiderling · 2 months

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i’ll run my fingers through your hair | j.v

synopsis: jace + modern au + hair

pairing: jacaerys velaryon x reader

word count: 1,1k

author’s note: just a little not very serious drabble/mini fic about you tying jace’s hair in a pony… bc i couldn’t stop thinking about it during work. unedited, written on a whim in like 20 minutes on my phone… @eldrith put the gun away. also football ✅⚽️ not ❌🏈

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Ever since Jace had grown his hair out he had only seen positive changes his new hair cut had brought in his life. He had gotten tons of compliments (from friends, family AND strangers), questions about his “hair care routine” (water, shampoo and leave in conditioner… was that enough steps to call it a routine?) and of course, the way you were tugging on it whenever he was between your legs. That, he enjoyed particularly.

In all the upsides, he had never thought there would be downsides as well. Clearly, he completely forgot about the football season.

The last games had already been over before his hair started curling around his ears, the process of growing it out taking longer than expected. But now that training was back on, he had been struggling with his curls sticking to the back of his neck or falling into his face while he sprinted across the field and Jace actually started contemplating getting it cut before the first game.

“Don’t you dare,Jacaerys Targaryen.”

Jace flinched when you full-named him, quickly locking his phone, the hair dresser’s online appointment website fading to black. You only ever full-named him when you were serious about something. He hadnt realized you were so invested in his hair.

“I wasn’t gonna get it all chopped of!” he insisted. “Only like a trim maybe.”

“Absolutely not.”

“But babe,” he whined, his lower lip jutting out in a pout, one of his most used weapons to try to get his way with you. “This season’s so important, and I can’t be distracted by hair.”

It was his first year starting as captain of the Dragons, the last thing he needed was being distracted by his hair, He would not lose because of vanity.

“There are less drastic ways than cutting your beautiful hair off!”

You ran your fingers through his brown locks, your nails scratching against his scalp and Jace nearly melted into the couch, his eyes rolling to the back of his head.

“Like what?”

His words sounded breathless when he spoke and you were grinning when you climbed over the back of the couch, plopping yourself next to him.

“Come down here and I’ll show you,” you said, gesturing to the floor in front of you. Jace sighed, but did as you asked anyways, folding his legs under himself. He leaned back against the couch as you combed through his hair with your hand, making his eyes flutter closed. His muscles automatically relaxed as soon as you put your hands into his hair, it was like magic.

“- half-up half-down…Hey, are you even listening to me?”

“Hm?”

“If you’re not gonna listen when I’m trying to help you-!”

“Okay, okay, I’m listening, sorry!” Jace reached back to curl his hand around your wrist, bringing it forward to place a kiss on the back of your hand. “You said something about half-up half-down…?”

You huffed.

“I need my hand back, Jace.”

Jace let go of your wrist and you sectioned his hair off with your fingers, tugging on it a little, as he shifted on the floor, before tying his hair off with an elastic.

“Look at it.”

Jace grabbed his phone, opening the camera on it to look at himself, the upper half of his hair now pulled back in a small pony, leaving his face free of his hair. For some reason, he had never thought about tying his hair off.

“Isn’t that… Girly?” he asked,

You gave him a look.

“Your father had the same hairstyle for your mother’s birthday last month. I think we can both agree on the fact that your father is not girly.”

Jace let out a huff, settling back against the couch. He did not like how lilty your voice got whenever you talked about his dad. He looked at the camera again, starting to get used to it.

“Doesn’t look half bad,” he admitted, looking at his hair from all angles. “What if I can’t tie it properly though and it’ll just unravel in the middle of the game? I think that might be even worse than just starting with my hair untied.”

“If you can’t do it yourself, I’ll do it for you,” you said, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Hm,” Jace hummed, tilting his phone to snap a picture of the two of you, your laugh echoing in his ears.

Said picture now was opened on his phone, as Jace tried to use it as a reference to tie his hair off. The first game of the season was about to start, and the whole team was in a frenzy. This was usually the opportunity Jace used to give his team mates a pep talk, rally them around, but he was too busy fighting with his hair and his vice-captain Cregan was still in the showers, taking his ritualistic ice bath (yes, he was superstitious; when they lost 3:4 against the White Walkers, Cregan insisted it was because he didn’t have time to take his ice bath, Jace knew it was because Addam had been out injured and Aegon had taken his place in the squad).

“Shit, how the fuck did she do it?” Jace muttered, bringing the hair tie around his hair, glancing between the reference picture and the mirror.

“Hey Cap, the cheerleaders are starting in ten minutes so we should be out in five, are you done fixing up your hair?” Ulf asked, stepping way into Jace’s personal space, despite Jace telling numerous times to fuck off.

“Shut up,” Jace huffed, his eye twitching in annoyance when his phone screen darkened. “Do me a favor and go get my girl from the stands.”

“Ooh what, the big ol’ Prince can’t start the game without seeing his ‘wittle girlfriend?” Ulf cackled, but his grin soon faded when Jace turned around to glare at him, his hand still around his hair.

“Do you want to start off the season on the bench, White?”

“Sorry Cap, I’ll go get your girl right away.”

Ulf scampered off with his tail between his legs and Jace sighed, letting go of his hair.

“Cregan, you’ve got about one minute to get your ass out of the ice bath before I replace you with Aemond!”

“I’ll be right out, Jace!”

“We better win this goddamned game,” Jace muttered to your smiling face on his phone.

They won 5:2.

But their victory was only a byline in the uni’s paper the following week, a picture of Jace’s half-up half-down hairstyle taking up half of the front page.

DRAGONS’ CAPTAIN GRACING THE FIELD WITH NEW HAIRSTYLE!

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author’s note: don’t forget to leave a comment if you liked it🫶🏼

#jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys x reader #jace x reader #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys x you #prince jacaerys #jacaerys targaryen #jacaerys velaryon fanfiction #jacaerys velaryon fanfic #jacaerys velaryon fic #jacaerys velaryon imagine #jace x you

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petew21-blog · 1 month

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Revenge possession, part 2

"So what is this game called again?" I asked out loud with Devon's voice.

Devon in the back of our mind:"Dead by daylight. You play either as a survivor or the killer. Depending on the role you have to escape or kill all the survivors."

I chuckled a bit:"You don't see how that's ironic?"

Devon was silent. "I'm so sorry, man. Jesus, I didn't think this through. Haha. Well... you should be good in this game right?"

Me:"Not really. I kinda didn't even know I was being hunted. Your parents just picked me up and then tortured me in the woods. I didn't have much of a chance to even run."

Devon:"Oh... I'm so sorry for that, man. My parents are horrible people."

Me:"Yeah. And I know they killed much more people than just me. That's why it needs to stop"

Devon:"So are you sure that killing them would be the best revenge for all these years of their murder spree?"

Me:"What else can I do? It's not like I had much of a choice. Few days ago I didn't even have a body. Now I co-share yours. Yeah, stealing their sons body is good revenge too, but you're a good person. And I don't want to take over your life."

Devon:"Not what I was aiming for. I honestly love having you here with me. You're like a second voice/brother/best friend inside of me. Oh shit. I just figured. I keep calling you bro. What's your real name?"

Me:"Paul. Took you long to ask, man. Not cool"

Devon:"Sorry, haha. So... Paul. You're like 40 now, right?"

Me:"I would be if your parents didn't kill me. But I died when I was 21 like you are now. So my mind basically stayed 21 I suppose. Except for roaming the country I didn't have much fun through all these years. These past few days as you, just chilling here, playing video games, jerking off and talking to you is the most fun I had over these 20 years."

Devon took control over his body to let go of the controler and to flex his biceps. The sweat hitting his nose.

Me:"What are you doing? I thought we were gonna play?"

Devon:"Nah, just reminding you what body you're in"

Devon:"Look at me man. I have beautiful abs, massive arms. These thighs could crush a melon between them. I appreciate that you picked me and that you like my body, but you gotta do something about this. We gotta go have fun. With another living being."

Me:"Devon... I really am happy how you treat me in your body, but... I don't think we have the same type of dating pool"

Devon:"I don't care whoever you fuck. I'm straight, or atleast I think I am, but very accepting. And if my man inside of me wants to fuck some handsome man, I will be more than happy to help you out. Bros gotta help each other"

Me:"But it's gonna be your body, man."

Devon:"So? You could do much worse with my body and you didn't. Getting fucked or fucking someone in the ass is not so bad."

Me:"Ok? So what place do you suggest?"

Devon:"Gym. We can show everyone what this body can do. Lot of people observe me there, so you can pick whoever you desire"

We arrived to the gym. So many hot and sexy people in sight. Devon took control to do his normal routine. It sucks that I could also have a body like this, but back in the day I wanted to see the world. I wanted to be myself in a world that hates my kind. Twenty years later, the world is so much more accepting. It's not ideal, but wow. How things gave changed

I still can't believe that Devon let's me stay in his body. I mean, look at him. He could be anything, have anyone. And yet this hot piece of meat is depressed with his easy life, being alone most of the time. I guess that's what happens when your serial killer parents move your family every now and then. You don't have any friends and those that you did might already be dead by their hand. How horrible... I honestly can't wait to see them. To look them in their face. With their son's face and to kill them. I hope Devon will forgive me. I know he says he wants to stop them, but it's his parents. I just have to make sure that he will not stop me when the time comes

Devon was just finishing up, when a cute twink approached us.

The guy:"Hey, I hope you don't mind that I was watching you"

Devon:"Nah, it's ok man. You need a hand with lifting?"

The guy smiled. "Oh I do need a hand, I just don't know If I asked the right person"

Devon sat down, looking all confused:"That depends if..."

I stopped Devon mid sentence. "I think that's a cue for me to take over, ok?"

Devon now in the back of my mind:"Sorry man, I usually don't respond to guys hitting on me. Go on. Have fun"

I smiled at the guy and casually finished the sentence

We headed to the showers. The owners must be probably sick with all these guys hooking up here. But we didn't care. We made out passionately. The twins was all over my muscles, as I would be in his place too. He was a bit smaller. That gave me a sense of dominating him.

I stopped and smiled at the guy. "I... just gotta let you know that I am a virgin"

Devon:"What!!! Dude, you never had sex with anyone?"

The guy looked at me from top to bottom. "You? If good looking people like you are virgins, then I have no idea how world works."

I chuckled nervously. It was true. I was 21 when I died, but back then it was much harder to date a find gay guy. Now you can just download Grindr and in a few minutes you got yourself a guy in your bedroom

Twink:"Well in that case we can go to your place and have some fun there. This isn't a very nice place to have your first time, don't you think"

I just smiled and nodded in approval

We were now in Devon's messy room. The guy was really shocked to see such a straight man cave, but didn't say a word. We made out. He took off my shirt soaked in sweat from gym. His lips now kissed my neck and went to over my pecs, down the middle to my waist band. He took my hard dick into his hand, squeezed hard and looked me deep into my eyes. His look was so full of lust, yet I could tell it was superficial. This guy isn't looking for romance. He just wants to be fucked hard. So let's give it to him

I took a bit of control of the moment. I grabbed him by the neck. Turned him around and pressed him against the wall. He was now moaning in pleasure as I was rubbing my hard dick hidden beneath the layers of my clothes against his ass. I was still holding him, choking him.

I pulled of my shorts and his just low enough to get my dick in there. I wanted to push it right in there. As hard as I could

Devon suddenly screamed out from the back of his mind:"Condom dude!!!"

I left the guy, moanjng against the wall, reaching out to the condom on the shelf. I was struggling to find which side to pick to put it on my dick

Twink:"Wait. Let me" it was obvious he jas done it a few times. The condor was on in a matters of seconds. "Do you have any lube?"

Devon intervened again:"Top drawer. Give him more attention, man. You're making it all about yourself"

"Shut up" I said out loud as a response to Devon, but the guy looked confused. "Oh sorry, not you. I'm just nervous. I have lube right here."

The guy went on Devon's bed on his back. His clothes were now gone and his ass was welcoming my dick. His legs wide open.

I pressed lightly my dick with a ridiculous ammount of lube on top.

It went smoothly so I tried to went all the way. This seemed to hurt the twins. "Hold your horses. I'm good, but not that good. A bit slower, cowboy."

I went in slowly. The pleasure got to Devon too. The way this guys ass was tight around the head of our dick was sending our minds to heaven.

I picked up the pace. The twink was moaning in pleasure and in pain at the same time. I grabbed him by the next to choke him. My other arm pressing his thigh.

Twink:"Harder!" I thought I was going as hard as possible, but I didn't think he could take it much more

Twink:"Harder!!!"

Devon:"Oh, jesus. Let me do it" Devon took over. I was in the back of our mind again. Still feeling everything.

Devon was like a beast, but the twink was really enjoying it.

I could feel all the cum building up. Ooh there's gonna be tons of cum.

Devon was biting his lower líp and furiously pounding this guy's ass. Sure, "Straight" my ass.

Devon:"I'm cumming!!!"

Twink:"Fill me! I want it all"

Devon shot out the stream of cum into the condom. The wave of pleasure was so overwhelming. So much, that I lost control for a moment. I didn't know what was happening.

I opened my eyes. Still as Devon. Good. But I was back in control. But I was alone here. I couldn't feel Devon

"DEVON?!?"

Twink:"Right here. You pushed my soul out of my body, dude. If the guy here wasn't as welcoming you would have me erased or something"

Me:"I'm so sorry. I didn't think that would happen."

Devon:"It's fine. This guy's soul is asleep or maybe gone? I don't know. But I can't hear him now. Dude! I could feel my body's orgasm and his orgasm at the same time. I can assure you, that this is definitely the best I'll ever feel. So overwhelming."

Me:"Shit, dude. We gotta figure out how to get you put of there. Or you might be stuck"

Devon:"What if we wait for a bit? I kinda wanna try having sex with my body."

Me:"Kinky. You wanna get pounded too?"

Devon:"Guess I'm not so straight anymore, right?"

After our first fucking session, Devon passed out from all the sex. We still didn't know where this guy's soul was, but we would figure that out soon. I was just happy that I was finally alive. And I even have a boyfriend now? If that's what I can call Devon. Not to put labels on our relationship or anything

I grabbed the first pair of shorts from the floor I could find. Still sweaty from the sex, I headed to the kitchen to get myself a drink of water.

I was interrupted by a dark figure in the corner of the room

"Hello, son"

I was full of rage. But I can't fuck it up now. If I kill him, I won't know where his mom is and that would take me another decade to find her.

"Hey, dad. How was your holiday"

"Oh wonderful. Rome is your mother's favourite place to visit"

I tried to act as much as possible. Devon was in his room in a wrong body, so that wouldn't help me.

"Did you go to Colosseum this time?"

"Oh, we sure did." The father responded. But in the matter of seconds his expression changed. He was now holding a gun pointed at me

"What are you doing, dad?!"

"Devon knows we went to Bahamas"

Fuck. So he knew all along that I'm not Devon. But how?

"Me and my wife found out that the folk like you, who want to have your revenge for what we did, come back as ghosts to make our lives a living hell."

"So I'm not the first one?"

"Hahaha. Of course you're not. The first one came when Devon was 2 years old. Of course he doesn't remember, but that was a nasty one. All the paranormal stuff. We didn't know what we were dealing with back then. But now, oh we are used to deal with you. But possessing Devon is a first. Some possessed us and tried to kill us, but obviously failed."

"How can you tell that I'm not him? Besides the question."

"Oh it's an aura thing. Once you have the experience and a good guidance, you can just tell when a soul isn't in their rightful place."

"Now, tell me. Did Devon put up a lot of fight? Your answer will change the course of your torture."

"Devon is ok. He's in the body of the guy downstairs. It was an accident"

"Sure it was. That would make sure that we couldn't kill you or him, right? We're not so stupid, mister. Although I will not enjoy killing my son, there is no other choice."

"If you kill me, I will go after you even more. I have for the past 20 years and I will even after you die. My soul will not rest until you burn in hell"

"Sure you can do that, but it will take you some time to get out of this thing."

He was holding a wooden object with symbols

"What is that thing?"

"That mister, is your prison. It will bind you inside, until it breaks, or someone opens it on purpose. Which happens rarely if you ask me."

"You're doing a big mistake. Devon is in his room in a different body. Let him atleast get his body back."

"I can't take that chance. Me and my wife have a life to live up to and we won't stop just because our son got himself in some trouble and can't handle it."

"It's your son! You would kill him just so you can continue your killing spree?"

"Oh, definitely. Having a child is a great thing, but taking a life. That's something you won't ever forget about. The control it gives you."

"You're sick. No parent would ever do this to their child"

From the hallway a second voice spoke:"Oh these two are a chatty couple, right honey? So chatty chatty. But we need to hurry up, so get on with this" the mother said towards her husband

I could feel a horrible pain in my chest. Feelings very similar to the ones I felt 20 years ago. This couple was killing me again

"Sorry Devon. We couldn't have done anything" father said

"Devon hates you too!" I screamed out

"You're talking too much" and then nothing.

I don't know for how long this continued. I don't even know what they did with Devon's beautiful body. How they got rid of it.

Soon I started to feel walls around me. Walls? As a ghost I wouldn't be able to. Except if this is their prison that they were talking about.

I opened my eyes. There was only darkness. Nothing else. I looked around and on the other side of my prison was someone sitting, crying.

I got up to approach this person. He looked up

It was Devon. He was crying

"Paul! They killed me. My own mother slit my throat. I told her it's me. But she just killed me and trapped me into thus thing."

"I'm so so sorry, Devon. I never wanted any of this. I wanted revenge for them. But they were ready. They knew. Your father didn't listen to me too. He didn't care. I told him about your soul. But they are more sadistic then I thought"

"Paul, I'm dead. My parents killed me. My OWN PARENTS!"

"Devon, they are horrible people. And we will get our lives back. Maybe not our old lives, but we will. But first we have to get out of here. We're gonna get through this together. Ok?"

Devon collapsed into my arms. I was just glad that I could hold someone even if I was a ghost now. We were gonna get out of here, but I had no idea how

Outside of the ghost trap, the world went by.

Devon's father held the trap tightly as he watched his old house burn. His wife held her head on his shoulder.

"Ahhh, I think I might miss Devon. He gave our life some order"

"He limited us. We couldn't ve ourselves all the time. Now we can. What do you say we go pick up some hitchhiker?"

"Ohhhh, that's a lovely idea. Get rid of that box, it gives me the creeps"

And as the two of them were laughing while leaving, the box was sinking deeply into the river below the bridge until some human would find it.

If Paul and Devon would know what was happening to then right now, they would be devastated.

#male possession #family possession #possession male #body posession #Soul swap #male transformation #straight to gay #Criminal possession

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coff33andb00ks · 3 months

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Rule Breaker - Pt 4

max Verstappen x single mom!reader (with logan sargeant)

{masterlist}{prev} {next}

warnings: cursing, minimally proofread, masturbation (m), lando gives wisdom Summary: Max has it all...right? Besides, he's too busy collecting trophies and completing side quests for anything else. Until... You moved across a whole ass ocean to start over, uprooting you and your son's lives to become social media admin for cars that drive in circles. word count: 5682 auth.note: logan girlies frighten me but i love y'all :) spotify: i made a playlist

The alarm started ringing and Max sighed, reaching over to turn it off. It wasn't as though he was asleep. Sitting up on the side of the bed he rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands, groaning when Jimmy gave a sleepy mew and jumped off the bed. "Ja, early morning," he sighed, switching on the lamp and getting to his feet. His cat didn't care, already slipping from the bedroom with his tail high. Sassy glared at him from the foot of the bed and he sighed again, grabbing his phone and turning off the lamp.

He grabbed jeans and a white t-shirt to put on before leaving the room, wondering again why he'd agreed to do this. It was stupid. No one cared what a day in his life was like, he was sure of that, no matter how many comments y/n had shown him on Checo's video asking when they'd get one of him. But it was too late to back out now—

His phone screen lit up and he stood in the bathroom, staring at her message.

-Good morning, I'll be there in ten minutes.

Crisp and professional. Just as it was supposed to be. Just as she had been for a week. When he'd messaged her the day before to bring Kevin over for another Disney movie she'd said yes, and had sat as far from him as physically possible while still being in the same room.

-I'll be ready. I'm up. Ok.

Eight minutes later she was at the door, looking maddeningly well-rested and relaxed and he didn't know why but that only annoyed him even more. He took the camera bag from her, noticing she was wearing baggy pants and an oversized sweatshirt instead of the usual jeans and Red Bull team shirt.

"I'll change before we go to the track," she told him.

He hated that the first few moments he was around her now were a little awkward. "What do you want to get first?" he asked, reaching up to smooth his hair and freezing when she moved to stop him. "What?"

"A day in the life, Max. Let your hair be messy. And you said you have coffee first thing right? So we'll do that – I've got the list you made." She took a sip from the to-go cup in her hand and he smelled coffee. "Kevin said to tell you good morning, have a great practice, and he had fun yesterday."

"I did too," he said. It was the truth. They'd watched a movie, and when that was over y/n had still been working on her laptop so he'd given Kevin a tour of his game room, letting him see and hold his trophies and helmets and even giving him a couple laps in his racing sim. She'd joined them, and for a little while it had been comfortable and easygoing, with her teasing him about his fridge of Red Bull within reach and having so many trophies he was running out of room to put them. He'd been about to suggest dinner, the words on the tip of his tongue, when she'd said it was time for them to get going.

She had the camera out, and so he started his day, answering her questions about trying to keep to a routine. The sun was coming up and she joined him on the balcony, asking about daily habits that stuck with him from childhood. He drank his coffee, watching out the corner of his eye as Sassy, his antisocial cat, jumped up into her lap and settled in for a cuddle.

"She's sweet," y/n said, and though there was a gap of at least six feet between them he could hear the cat's purring.

He made a face. "She hates being held."

Y/n looked at him, then down at Sassy. "Is that true?" she asked softly, running one hand over Sassy's fur.

As though intent on making him a liar, Sassy let out a squeaking purr and stretched, headbutting y/n's chin. Max scoffed, finishing his coffee. "She usually hates being held."

"Maybe you just don't know how to hold her properly," she said, turning her attention fully on the cat.

"I hold her just like I hold Jimmy," he said with a roll of his eyes.

"But you're not Jimmy, are you, darling?" she cooed, rubbing Sassy behind the ears and kissing the top of her head.

Max waited, knowing how much Sassy hated that sort of attention. And, traitor that she was, Sassy leaned into the touch, purring almost ecstatically. "You're making me look bad."

Y/n snorted, lavishing Sassy with affection for a few more moments. She set the cat down and stood, and the cat stayed close to her throughout the rest of the morning, calling and winding between her ankles as she got shots and video of Max doing his morning stretching.

"You do this every morning?" she asked, and Max exhaled with a nod while she got on her hands and knees next to him.

"It keeps me focused," he said after leaning on his knees. "Plus this is just a warmup. I'll do training with Rupert before lunch."

"Strength and cardio, right?"

"Will you be doing that with me too?" he asked, resuming his plank.

"Only if I'll get tequila at the end of the day like I did last week."

He chuckled. "I can do a gin and tonic."

"I've never had one of those," she said, trying the plank again.

"You have to lift your hips up a bit more," he pointed out. "And keep your back straight."

She tried again and he pushed himself back, turning to kneel next to her. His hands were on her hips, guiding them up, one hand moving to rest on her back, before he realized what he was doing. Hearing her shaky breath he paused.

"Sorry—"

"No, you're fine, I want to do it. Or at least be able to say I tried."

He nodded, adjusting her form, somehow able to focus on the exercise and not the sudden fantasies that were flashing in his mind. Swallowing hard, he wondered if they'd start invading his daily life and not just his dreams now. "Keep your head down, otherwise you might strain your neck."

"How long do I hold it?"

"It's your first time?" he asked, finally moving his hands from her.

"Doing a plank or having a guy manhandle me?" she huffed.

"Y/n—"

"Sorry, haven't had all my coffee. Yes, it's my first time."

"Then as long as you can."

"How long do you hold them?"

"Two minutes usually."

"Fucking showoff," she muttered, stretching out her arms and relaxing completely.

"I've been doing them for years," he chuckled. "C'mon, time for breakfast."

He was glad she ate with him, glad he'd picked up a few things from the shop the evening before that he'd remembered she liked. It seemed so normal, chatting with her while he cooked, Jimmy by his feet and Sassy by hers. But it made him homesick, nostalgic for something he'd never had.

"I only cook when I'm home," he said. "During preseason I have my meals prepped for me to get me back on track – turn on the kettle?"

She reached over to switch it on. "If you could have anything for breakfast without worrying about training or meal plans, what would it be?"

"This is where I say a cold Red Bull," he joked. When she rolled her eyes and laughed, he grinned. "Waffles. A stack this high." He held his hand several inches above the plate by the cooktop. "With bacon, the kind you can only get in America. And a large glass of milk."

"Butter and maple syrup?" she asked.

"Lots of butter, and the good maple syrup." Looking at the eggs on toast he was plating, he sighed. "I'll have it during our summer break."

"Two weeks off, right? Do you already have plans?"

"Last year I went to South America. I think this year I'll go home, yeah? Spend some time with my mum." Seeing that she was already fixing their tea, he carried the plates to the table and then fed Jimmy and Sassy. "What about you?"

"I'm not sure yet. I'm hoping to get to go home for a few days." She handed him a cup of tea and sat down. "My family usually gets a cottage at the beach for a couple weeks in the summer, and the break starts the second week they're going this year. Kevin misses his Nana, so I've got to get him back for a visit."

"You're close to your mum?" he asked once they'd started eating.

"Pretty close. We had a falling out when I graduated high school. She wanted me to stay near home and go to the local college, but I wanted to go to a school that had a good program. That led to a fight, especially when I was accepted and announced I was going halfway across the country…" She sipped her tea. "Then I graduated and came back home and… It was weird for a little while? But we both apologized and then Kevin came along, and well. She would have forgiven anything, I think, to be able to be in his life."

He nodded, understanding what that was like. Hadn't he done the same with his father? "Can I—" he stopped when her phone buzzed loudly on the table.

Y/n picked it up with a murmured apology, smiling slightly at the screen before answering. "Hey…"

Max's toast turned to cardboard in his mouth when he saw the name on the screen.

"Yeah, I'm at Max's. Day in the life thing. Yeah." She laughed.

He forced the last of his food down his throat and drank his tasteless tea, carrying his dishes to the sink while she talked to Logan.

"No, Ellie's bringing him. Probably around noon?" She paused and he knew she was smiling even though his back was to her. "You're sweet. I'll see you in a little bit? Yep. Okay, I promise. Bye."

"All good?" he asked, forcing himself to sound as casual as possible. Taking her plate when she brought it to the sink, he saw she was still smiling.

"Yeah, it was Logan. He wanted me to bring Kevin to the track. I'll do the dishes since you cooked," she insisted, waving him away.

He stepped aside, opening his mouth to point out the dishwasher but, knowing she would just wash them by hand anyway, he closed it. Leaning against the counter, he folded his arms over his chest. "How was your dinner with him last week?"

She looked at him in surprise. "It was nice."

He nodded. "About—" The timer he'd set on his phone went off and wanted to send his phone through the window. Snatching it up, he silenced it and ran a hand over his face. "I've got to shower, then we can head to the track."

"Sure thing." She tipped her head. "Alright if I change in your room while you shower?"

"Of course." He pushed away from the counter. "No photos of my closet."

She laughed at that, and he felt the awkwardness drift away. "No photos of the closet, promise. But I can get one of the Red Bull pillow on the bed?"

"Absolutely not," he snorted, her laugh following him from the kitchen. He went to the foyer to check his backpack, making sure all his necessities for the day were packed in it. Leaving his phone beside it, he thought about the upcoming practice, mind on the adjustments made in anticipation of the race. He pushed open his bedroom door so he could grab clothes, lurching to a stop at the sight of the nearly nude woman by his bed.

Y/n whirled around, one arm crossing over her bare chest, eyes wide.

"S-sorry," he blurted, quickly looking away even though it was too late for that. "Just need to grab something."

She turned her back to him, and he saw her hand shoot out to snatch her hoodie off the bed, holding it to her. "I thought you were showering."

"I had to get my things ready," he explained, wondering why he felt the need to defend his movements in his own home. "I thought you were washing dishes."

"It was a skillet, two forks, two plates, two mugs, and a spatula. Hardly a big job."

He quickly grabbed clothes, muttering a few more apologies. About to leave, he saw her turning to look over her shoulder and felt his knees weaken. His hip slammed into the corner of the bureau and he winced, cursing, snatching his gaze from her bare skin and leaving the room as quickly as he could, making sure to close the door behind him.

"Fuck me," he groaned, nearly tripping over Sassy, who was of course waiting right outside the door. Stepping around her, he went straight to the bathroom, trying with all his might to focus his mind on practice. The car. The track. Anything but her, because if he let himself think of her he would only think of how badly he'd wanted to—

No. Not allowed. He couldn't kiss her, he damn sure couldn't lay her down in his bed and learn all the secrets of her body. Couldn't find out how her lips tasted, whether she preferred to be held gently or grabbed roughly. Would never learn if she moaned and gasped or whined and squealed. Could never have the taste of her on his tongue or know how wet she could get.

His body craved her like water and he felt nothing but intense desire as he stood under the showerhead, not even trying to deflect his arousal. Giving in, he set the soap down and grasped his cock. He closed his eyes, letting the fantasies run wild. His hand was a sad substitute for what he truly craved. His mind replayed the split second view of her breasts he'd gotten over and over and he was almost ashamed of how quickly he came, gritting his teeth to keep from moaning loudly while his cum splashed on the tile.

Panting, still craving her, he washed himself, trying and failing to push thoughts of her to the back of his mind. Mad at himself for not being in control of his own body, he dried off and dressed, realizing he was taking more concern with his appearance than usual when he smoothed the pomade Charles had given him months ago through his hair. Cursing, he ran a comb through it, scowling at his reflection as he sprayed cologne. "Stupid," he muttered, pulling his shirt on and snatching the bathroom door open.

"No team shirt? I thought you weren't allowed to wear anything else," she teased when he entered the living room.

He looked down at the white tee, unconsciously smoothing it. "I don't live in team clothes," he muttered. He finally looked at her, clenching his jaw to stop his eyes from dipping to her chest.

She'd put on a bra. Pity.

"It looks good. Jeans and a white t-shirt are classic. Very James Dean."

"Who?" Was that some other idiot asshole talking to her? He knew about Logan—

"Actor from the 50's. According to my grandma, all the women wanted him and all the men wanted to be him." She smiled as she zipped up her camera bag. "I watched his movies. If I'd been alive back then I'd have wanted him, too. Ready?"

He nodded, grabbing a jacket. Said goodbye to the cats and watched her get more affection from Sassy in thirty seconds than he had in all the time he'd owned her. Another fantasy formed, and he wondered what it said of him that he was imagining her in his bed. Instead of a sexual slant, the fantasy was her cuddling his cats. Not used to the warmth it filled him with, he let the fantasy play out while they gathered their things, liking the mental image of Kevin and a faceless little girl joining them for morning snuggles.

The elevator ride was interminable, cramped, and he tried to remember what normalcy was while he breathed in perfume and shampoo and pretended she wasn't touching him.

"Are you wearing cologne?"

"A little." The doors open and he breathed clean air with utter relief. Did she like it? Did it bother her? Had he put too much? Should he—

"Smells nice," she murmured as she stepped into the lobby.

Max exhaled harshly, letting his head fall back against the wall, glancing up at the ceiling. "You've got a terrible sense of humor," he muttered to whatever gods might be listening.

"Did you say something?" Y/n asked.

"No," he lied, pushing away from the wall and exiting the elevator. "Just thinking about practice."

She asked him more questions, about the track, if he considered it at least a little his home track since he lived there. Nodded and listened to his answers as they walked to the dock. And it was all almost normal on the boat ride over, her filming clips to post later and getting photos. Then more normal once they stepped onto the trackside dock, surrounded by people now.

Once they reached the paddock she touched his arm to get his attention, not that she really needed to.

"I'll meet you at the garage? I'm gonna run see Kevin for a minute," she said.

"Of course." He reached for her camera bag and backpack. "You can bring him back for a visit—"

"Mama!"

He swung his head around, smiling at the sight of Kevin through the crowd. His expression soured when he saw who was carrying him, but he managed to keep the smile on his face as Logan walked up, greeting him with a nod.

God, he hated this. Hated the way she smiled up at Logan, hated their easy, familiar conversation while he handed Kevin over and told her Ellie had stopped to chat with Oscar. He hated that he hated it and cleared his throat. "See you in a bit, I've got to meet with Christian."

She nodded, and he made sure to speak to Kevin before walking off. Barely two seconds later Lando fell into step next to him.

"Aw, look at 'em. Like a family, yeah?"

Max had nothing but respect and admiration for Lando, but he would have gladly shoved him off the dock if they'd been close enough. "Who?"

"Your social media girl and Logan." Lando grinned, glancing back. "Should've seen her kid like thirty minutes ago. He worships Logan."

"Of course he does, the guy has the mindset of a three-year-old," Max muttered.

Lando exploded with laughter. "The fuck?" He followed Max into the Red Bull motorhome. "Is that jealousy I hear?"

"No."

"Ah c'mon, it's me. Your buddy. Your mate."

"Don't you have things to do?" Max muttered, waving to people milling about as he made his way to his driver's room.

Lando was close on his heels, and the door hadn't fully closed before he started in again. "So you like her?"

He set her bags down and shrugged off his backpack. "Who?"

"Y/n."

"She's my colleague."

"Colleague. You sound like a pretentious dickhead." Lando dropped into a chair and shoved his feet on the corner of the table. "Tell Lando about it, mate. I'm your friend, I won't judge you, just give you advice."

"I don't need your advice," he snorted, kicking Lando's feet down.

"But it's good advice!"

He groaned. "What is it?"

"First you need to tell me the problem." Lando leaned forward, looking far too excited. "You're down bad for her, aren't you?"

Max stared at him, unblinking.

"She gets you all fired up? Got you picturing her doing nasty, freaky things with you? Leaves you bricked and fighting for your life?"

"Jesus," he muttered, looking away.

"Oh, you're desperate," Lando said.

"I am not desperate," he scoffed.

"You're all dressed up. Isn't today when she spends the whole day with you?"

"I'm not dressed up." He wasn't sure what was worse, how he was feeling or hearing Lando describe them in his ridiculous way. "And yes, for the day in the life."

"You did something to your hair, you're wearing your pussy magnet cologne, and you're not wearing Red Bull." Lando ticked off his fingers. "You. Are. Desperate."

"And what if I am?" he asked.

"Mate… Just fuck her and get it over with it."

He laughed. "Life changing advice, mate, I never thought of that."

"See? I'm good—"

"I can't."

Lando's face twisted in confusion. "What do you mean, you can't?" His eyes widened. "Are you – You know you can get medicine for that? No shame in it nowadays. Happens to a lot of guys. Not me, but—"

"What the hell—" Max groaned, throwing a Red Bull at his friend. "I'm not impotent, asshole."

"Oh. Good, because really I'd be worried. You're not that old—" Lando sent the can back. "So why can't you? Because of Logan? They're not official. Just a few dates. He went to see her at her place, but I think they're just friends."

"How do you know all this?" Max asked, checking the time.

"He tells Osc everything and I have a knack for finding out by asking leading questions."

"You mean you're nosy."

Lando waved one hand. "Yes."

"It's not because of him," he finally said after opening a can and taking a swig.

"Then…" Lando threw up his hands and let them fall dramatically. "Why aren't you putting kids in her?"

Max almost choked on his drink. "Mate—"

"She's a fucking milf—"

"Don't say that—" Max held up a hand. "Stop. I can't."

"Again, why?" Lando gasped. "Mate," he whispered. "Did you try and she turned you down?"

"No, she didn't – I – we work together." He rolled his eyes when Lando snorted. "It's in the contracts, mate."

"You're joking."

"Do you want to see a copy?" he finished the drink and crumpled the can.

"No, I mean, you can't be serious? That kind of stuff is only for doing shit in public." Lando shook his head. "It's an easy workaround. Just do it in private."

"What, like I'm ashamed?"

"No, no, c'mon! Stolen looks? Carefully brushing her hand when you're walking together? Sending her a filthy text before an interview? Then as soon as you're back home you bend her over and fuck—"

"Stop."

"It'll be your dirty little secret. You'd have to make sure the kid doesn't notice but as long as you keep it to hotel rooms and when he's asleep that wouldn't be a problem." Lando smiled, expression smug, as though he'd just solved all the world's problems. "As long as you don't say in an interview that you're fucking her, you're good."

"You're insane," Max muttered with a shake of his head. "I can't—"

There was a knock on his door. "Mister Max!"

He was opening it in an instant, grunting when Kevin ran into him. Y/n was behind him, gently chastising him for being so impatient, and Max waved off her concern, catching the boy and lifting him up for a hug. "You having a good day, kleine maat?"

"Yeah! I got my scooter! Can we ride?" Kevin asked hopefully.

"Of course we can." He met y/n's eyes over the boy's head. "Just a little ways down the track?"

She looked ready to say no, but finally nodded. "I've got to get some posts up. Ellie's getting a migraine so she'll probably want to leave soon—"

"Well then we can have fun without her, can't we mate?" he asked Kevin, who giggled. Ruffling his hair, he set him down and looked at her. "Go ahead and do your work, yeah? I'll keep an eye on him."

Her eyes softened and he knew she wanted to insist he didn't have to. That Kevin could go back to the hotel with Ellie. But she smiled. "Thank you."

"Let's go get your scooter, mate," Lando said suddenly.

"Stay with Lando, yeah?" Max told Kevin, looking at his friend. "Don't let go of him."

"He's such a dad," Lando sighed to the boy, taking his hand and leading him from the room. "Does he tell you to eat your vegetables?"

It's not contagious. Just her migraines are bad right now. I think it's the change in environment. She's not used to the English weather.

She's going to a doctor tomorrow?

Yeah but I don't think they'll have a miracle cure.

Just bring him, y/n. The whole team loves him. We can keep an eye on him when you have to work, and he can stay in the motorhome when it's busy.

Christian said the same thing.

Sometimes he's smart.

You're terrible. Okay, I'll bring him.

Good. Tell Ellie I hope she gets some relief. Is she getting rest?

She just went to bed even though it's only 7. She took a pill that doesn't help the pain but helps her sleep.

She'll be okay, y/n. They'll have something to help her.

Thanks, Max. See you in Montreal.

Safe travels, y/n. Give little mate a hug for me?

Every day. :)

Y/n smiled over the messages and then returned to the messages with Christian. After telling him she would have Kevin with her for the Montreal and getting his assurance that it was okay, she locked her phone, sighing. "Well, buddy, looks like you're coming to Canada."

Kevin looked up from the hot wheels he was lining up on the rug. "Really?"

"Yep. But Mama's gonna be working a lot so we'll be at the track all the time." She hoped this wasn't a mistake. There were countless ways he could get hurt. "You'll have to stay where I tell you."

Kevin nodded. "Okay Mama." He rubbed his nose. "Is Mister Logan coming?"

The duality of child, she thought with another sigh. "Yeah, he'll be here soon. Remember to keep it down, though. Ellie's sleeping." She got to her feet and stepped over his cars so she could get the popcorn ready. "Can you get the movie ready?"

"He said Cars is his favorite," her son reminded her.

"He did."

"Mister Max likes it too. But his favorite is Aladdin."

"I thought his favorite was Tiana?"

"His favorite princess." Kevin followed her into the kitchen, pushing his stool to the counter and climbing up. "But he loves Aladdin."

"Why does he love Aladdin?" she asked, taking down the packets of microwave popcorn.

"He says the genie."

"Well, he has a point." She put a packet in the microwave and moved to get a bowl.

"He likes Tiana because she works for what she wants." Kevin spoke slowly, and y/n knew it was because he wanted to make sure he repeated Max verbatim. He even, probably unintentionally, copied Max's slight lisp.

And so it was that when Logan arrived, she and Kevin were in a debate over the work ethic of Disney princesses.

"I'm not saying she held down two jobs, but Cinderella worked," she insisted while she opened the door. "She cooked and cleaned and dealt with everything in the castle – Hey, c'mon in – and you need to remember it was set like two or three hundred years ago, of course she didn't have a job"

"But she only danced," Kevin said as he greeted Logan with a hug. "Tiana turned into a frog, Mama."

"Are we arguing?" Logan asked with a chuckle.

Y/n rolled her eyes. "I'm trying to defend my girl Cindy and he's showing misogyny."

"Am not," Kevin huffed. Tugging on Logan's shirt, he waited for him to lean down before whispering. "What's miss… That mean?"

"I think it means when a man expects a woman to stay home and cook and clean and raise babies," Logan whispered back.

"That's stupid."

"There's my sweet boy again. Go pick up your cars," she told him, laughing when he ran off to do so. Taking Logan's jacket, she draped it over the hook by the door. "Hey."

"Hey," he murmured, smiling.

His kiss wasn't unexpected. He'd kissed her plenty of times since their dinner in Italy. But there was something added in, something she couldn't quite identify but knew she liked. Leaning into him, she hummed softly when his hand lightly cradled her neck, pulling back at the sound of Kevin throwing his cars into the bin.

"Date in Montreal?" Logan asked.

She opened her mouth to say yes, then bit her lip. "I don't know. I have to bring Kevin with me."

"Oh. I thought he was staying here with Ellie?"

"He was, but she's been having really bad migraines since Monaco. She's going to the doctor tomorrow, but I can't just expect her to deal with him and all that."

"We'll still do something fun."

"We will," she promised, leaning to kiss his cheek. "Go on, I'll get the popcorn."

They parted, and she heard him talking to Kevin while she got the popcorn and drinks. When she brought it out he was already on the couch, remote in hand and following Kevin's directions to find the movie, like he hadn't used their TV half a dozen times by now.

"This is his favorite movie that he watches every other day, so he'll be talking along with it," she warned him with a smile once they were settled and he'd hit play. She could already tell that Kevin would be out before the movie was finished, recognizing the way he rubbed his eyes as he snuggled between her and Logan. Picking up her phone so she could check her email, she half paid attention, frowning when a text from Ellie popped up.

Is your boy toy here? I want water.

She rolled her eyes.

He's not my boy toy but yes. I'll bring you some.

"Be right back," she whispered to Logan, pushing herself off the couch and going to the kitchen to fix a cup of water for her friend. Slipping into the bedroom, she closed the door and approached the bed. "Hey," she whispered, setting the cup down.

Ellie groaned, slowly sitting up. "Thanks."

"Pill hasn't kicked in yet?"

"Almost. Logan here?"

Y/n smiled. "Yeah. Watching Cars."

"Romantic." Ellie breathed deeply. "Water?"

Handing it to her, she sat on the edge of the bed. "You're drugged so you'll be honest…"

"Yes, I think you should sleep with him."

She blinked, pressing her hands to her face. "Thanks, El."

"Welcome." Ellie pushed the cup to her. "He's cute and he likes you. And it's been years since you had some good dick. Sleep with him."

She stood and leaned to kiss her friend's head. "Go to sleep, babe."

"Loves you," Ellie mumbled sleepily.

"Love you more." Leaving the cup on the nightstand, she tiptoed from the room.

She didn't want to sleep with Logan, did she? Just because he was cute – which he was, but she preferred the term handsome – and liked her? She did like him. He was good with Kevin, and he was nice. He hadn't been pushy at all since their not-a-date dinner date, but she wasn't blind. She could tell he wanted more than the quick, stolen kisses.

Just as she'd known he would, Kevin was asleep before the movie was halfway through, and she pried him from Logan's shoulder to go tuck him in. When she returned, he'd turned off the movie and put on Netflix, and she reclaimed her spot.

"Is it okay for me to hang around?" he asked, pushing the popcorn bowl onto the coffee table.

"Of course." Smiling, she laughed when he flopped back, one arm draping around her and dragging her close. She barely paid attention to the show he'd turned on, letting herself enjoy the physical closeness. His hand rubbed her arm and she shifted closer, resting her head on his chest.

"Y/n?"

"Hm?" She tipped her head back, surprised – but not really – when he took the opportunity to kiss her. His arm tightened around her, other hand coming up to cup her cheek and she sank into the kiss, whining a little when he pulled back. "Okay?"

"Y-yeah," she breathed, nodding, shifting so she was kneeling, hands gently grabbing the front of his shirt as their lips met again.

"So we can be more than friends?" he asked between kisses.

Y/n exhaled shakily, wondering how he could ask that question when his hand was sliding under her shirt. Or was he expecting her to determine their relationship? "I mean… Yeah? We can just…" It was hard to concentrate with his hand creeping closer to her breast. "Figure it out as we go?"

"I like that," he whispered.

His fingers brushed the outer curve of her breast and her mouth went dry, feeling the flames of yearning in a long time. "I like that, too," she whispered, threading her fingers through his hair. She pulled back just when her lips brushed his again, slightly panicked at the thought of having sex on the sofa. "B-but we don't have to go all the way tonight, do we? I don't—"

I don't want to tarnish the couch my son naps and watches TV on.

"No, no, it's okay. I'm good with just kissing you," he promised.

"We can make out," she suggested, because she needed a little more than kissing. Just the training wheels until she remembered what to do and what she liked.

"Hands above the waist?" he asked while slowly guiding her down.

"Good idea." She had the distinct impression that if his hands went below her waist she'd be begging for more. And she wasn't ready for that. Not yet.

Maybe not ever, and as she started to lose herself in his kiss she wondered if he'd be okay with that, too.

Taglist:

#f1 #f1 fic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #max verstappen #max verstappen fic #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #my writings > mv > rulebreaker #logan sargeant #logan sargent x reader

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afictionaladventure16 · 4 months

Text

The Longest Night (Tim Bradford X Foster!Teen!Reader)

The Rookie Masterlist

Word Count: 3,832

Warnings: Mentions of death and blood

Summary: It's towards the end of Tim's shift when he gets a call on the radio about a nearby car accident, but when he arrives, he doesn't expect his world to turn upside down.

The day began like any other, Tim got up before sunrise and prepped a quick breakfast before getting himself ready. By then y/n was up and dressed and eating her breakfast. Over the past two years, they had a routine that they strictly followed. At first, the life of fostering a young teen was challenging for Tim, especially with his schedule but he was determined to help the young teen. He saw so much of himself within her.

Getting y/n to open up to him was another challenge. It took a while, but eventually, she learned how to trust Tim and now she felt like Tim was the father she never had. There were times when she had to stop herself from calling him ‘dad,’ even though she knew he wouldn’t mind. She felt like it wasn’t appropriate since she knew that one day she would only be a distant memory.

Towards the end of his shift, Tim was over it. He was ready to go home and start his weekend. More importantly, he was excited to go to y/n’s soccer game tonight. He knew he was going to be the loudest one in the crowd, cheering you on as you gave it your all in the field.

He loved watching you play, loved seeing the passion you had for the game and if he could, he would do anything so you could play whenever you pleased, but the world didn’t work that way.

The plan was for you to drive to the field with some friends after school, you would grab something to eat with them on the way there. Fortunately for you, you were able to get out of class early to grab a bite and head over to the field. Later on in the evening, Tim, Lucy, and Angela will meet you at the game.

“All units,” the voice came over the radio, “we have a major collision at the intersection of Sepulveda and Fifth. Possible fatalities. Paramedics en route.”

Tim’s heart quickened, something about this call felt different from the others. A chill ran down his spine, he knew that intersection too well. It was one of the intersections he passed on the way to drop y/n off at school.

“Dispatch, show 7-Adam-100 responding,” Tim announced on the radio as he drove off from where he was parked. The scene of the accident wasn’t too far, it was only ten minutes away, but with the way Tim was driving, he made it there in five.

When he arrived, paramedics were already at the scene, a couple of paramedics were assisting some firemen help get a passenger out of one of the cars. Just with one look at the scene, Tim already knew that the impact of some of these cars was deadly.

“Tim,” Lucy hurried towards him, she had arrived at the same time as the paramedics.

Tim was too distracted by the scene of the wreckage in front of him to even notice the look on Lucy’s face, “Jesus, what was the cause of this?” he asked.

Lucy’s expression was tense, her eyes had widened with something more than just professional concern, “T-Tim,” she whispered, a hand gently touching his arm.

Tim quickly diverted his attention towards Lucy, taking in the expression she was giving him, “What’s going on?” His voice is tight with worry.

Lucy hesitated, she had no idea how to tell the man she loved, the man who was standing right in front of him the news that could cause his whole world to come crashing down. Her gaze flickered over his shoulder to where the paramedics were working frantically on someone who was lying on the pavement. “I need you to promise me you’ll stay calm,” she began.

There was that feeling again, the one Tim felt when he heard the call over the radio, “What is it?”

Lucy took in a shaky breath, “It’s y/n,” she said softly. Her mouth quivered, she rose her hand up to her mouth quickly before putting her hand back down and continued, “The way the car hit– She–” She let out a small sob.

“Where is she?” Tim felt a cold knot of dread forming in his stomach, “Where is my daughter, Lucy!?”

“The paramedics are doing everything they can,” She managed to choke out.

Tim felt as if the ground beneath him had been pulled out from under him, he followed Lucy’s gaze behind him, his whole world narrowed to the sight of the paramedics working on his daughter. His heart sunk at their grim faces as they focused at the task at hand. He pushed past Lucy, any call for him went in through one ear and out the other as he rushed to Y/n’s side.

“No, no, no,” Tim shouted, his voice breaking as he took in her pale and bloodied face. “Come on, baby, you got to wake up,” he cried as he knelt beside her, gently holding her head in his hands.

“Clear!” A paramedic warned as he held the defibrillator paddles in his hands, Tim quickly let go of y/n, his eyes darting to the small portable screen beside them. The paramedic let out a small groan as he continued to administer CPR, “Another round of EPI!” The paramedic ordered.

Tim’s heart shattered with every single millisecond that passed. Reaching out with a trembling hand, he brushed a strand of hair from y/n’s forehead, “Please,” he begged, “Don’t take her from me.”

Lucy knelt beside Tim, offering anything she could to support him.

“Clear!” The paramedic announced again.

“Come on, baby girl,” Tim whispered as he lifted his hands up, allowing the paramedic to use the paddles on y/n.

Tim waited, watching the straight lines on the defibrillator, “Come on!” He shouted, tears streaming down his cheek.

“We got a pulse!” The paramedic called out as a small pulse showed itself on the small screen in front of him. Tim let out a breath of relief, overwhelmed with a wave of emotions, Y/N was alive, but barely.

“You can meet us at the hospital,” the paramedic informed Tim as they loaded Y/n onto a stretcher.

Tim watched as they wheeled her into the ambulance, His attention was directed to another stretcher that was covered with a sheet. His heart sank as he noticed a familiar charm bracelet that was barely showing through the sheet. He quickly stopped the paramedics from moving the stretcher.

Tim glanced over at Lucy, she gave him a nod, confirming his fear without words.

“Fuck!” He exclaimed as he took in a shaky breath.

“I was on my way to inform her parents.”

Tim shook his head, “No, let me.”

“But y/n.”

“Y/N would want me to tell her best friend's parents that their daughter… she would want me to do this.”

Lucy nodded, “I can go with you if you would like,” she suggested.

He gave her a small nod. Lucy followed Tim in her patrol car, to the small house that was only a few blocks down.

Tim dreaded giving the news of the death of a loved one, but this was different. A knot of anxiety turned in Tim’s stomach as he knocked on the door with shaky hands. Mrs. Garcia, Jenna’s mother, answered the door with a beaming smile, but it was short-lived once she saw the look on Tim’s face. Her smile quickly faded into concern.

“Tim? What’s wrong?” She asked, her voice laced with concern.

“Can we come in?” Tim asked gently. Mrs. Garcia’s eyes darted between him and Lucy before she gave him a small nod and stepped aside. Her eyes widened with worry.

“Heeey, Tim!” Mr. Garcia sung as he watched Tim walk into the living room, “Ready for that game tonight? Don’t tell me one of the girls called you to come grab something,” he rambled on, “Leave it to our girls to always forget something.” His voice slowly faltered as he noticed the look on his wife’s face.

“Tim has– Um, he’s here because of work,” Mrs. Garcia stuttered as she sat beside her husband on the couch. The look on Mr. Garcia’s face now mirrored his wife’s as they looked at Tim.

Tim took in a deep breath, his mind searching for the right words today, but he knew there were none. For a moment, he wanted them to take in these last moments, the last moments of them being oblivious to what was going on. The last moments of them believing that their daughter was still alive and with them in this world.

Tears began to well up in his eyes, “There was an accident,” he began. “Y/N and Jenna were involved.”

Mr. Garcia let out a small chuckle out of disbelief, “But they’re okay, right?”

Tim felt his stomach turn as he continued, “Y/N is on the way to the hospital, they were able to resuscitate her.”

Mrs. Garcia gasped, as Mr. Garcia took his wife’s hand, “and my Jenna?” His voice shaking as he asked.

Tim could feel the tears in his eyes threatening to make themselves known, “I’m so sorry,” he said with a shaky voice, “Jenna didn’t make it.”

Mrs. Garcia shook her head, “No, no, no! Not my baby!” She yelled as she collapsed into her husband’s arm, her body wracked with sobs. Mr. Garcia held her tightly as tears fell from his eyes. Tim felt helpless as he stood there, wishing there was something he could do to ease their pain, but he knew there wasn’t.

“I’m so sorry,” Tim repeated, “Jenna was more than just Y/n’s friend. They were like sisters. You guys were–are like family to us.”

Mr. Garcia looked up towards Tim, his eyes red and overwhelmed with grief, “Can we see her? Can we see our baby girl?”

Tim nodded, “I’ll take you to her. I’ll be with you every step of the way.”

The Garcia’s followed Tim’s patrol car to the hospital. Tim felt like he could understand the pain they were going through, seeing as he had just seen his own daughter almost be taken from him, but he knew his pain couldn’t compare to the pain they were about to face.

He guided them through the quiet halls, it was a part of the hospital Tim rarely went through. A part of the hospital not a lot of people wished to see. The room in which Jenna’s body was in was filled with an overwhelming aura of sadness. It’s like the walls knew the pain of those who held her close. Tim stood at the door as he watched them walk up to the bed where their daughter lay motionless.

In the midst of it all, Tim felt guilt. Guilt that his daughter lived and theirs didn’t and mixed in with all the guilt, he felt angry.

He wasn’t sure if he was more angry towards the drunk driver or god himself for taking Jenna away from her parents.

Lucy walked up to Tim, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, “Hey,” she whispered, gesturing for him to follow her.

He let out a deep breath, following Lucy down the hall.

“They’re wheeling Y/N into surgery now, they’re saying it was touch and go there for a while, which is why it took them a while to get her stable enough to go into surgery,” Lucy explained. Her eyes gazed towards the door at the end of the hall, “How are they holding up?”

Tim shook his head as tears quickly welled up in his eyes, Lucy didn’t hesitate to pull Tim into an embrace, “I almost lost her and I was a mess, I can’t imagine the pain they are going through,” he said shakily as he returned Lucy’s embrace.

“I know,” Lucy whispered.

“I almost lost her,” Tim repeated. Taking in the words he had just said.

“But you didn’t,” Lucy said as she let go of the embrace and held Tim’s head in her hands. “She’s alive and she needs you right now, she needs you more than ever.”

Tim nodded, “I don’t know what I would do if I lost her.”

“You didn’t lose her, Tim.”

“I can’t lose her,” he repeated.

“You won’t.”

“But I still can,” tears welled up in his eyes, “they can take her away as easily as they brought her into my life and I can’t bear to lose her. She’s my kid.”

Lucy couldn’t help but smile, “So, what are you saying?”

“I’m saying that I want to adopt her. I need to.”

Lucy beamed, “About time.”

Tim and Lucy stayed in the hall, while the Garcia’s said goodbye to their daughter. A small amount of words were exchanged as Tim watched the Garcias walk out of the hospital, he promised them that Y/N would come over from time to time, but they still wanted her presence around even if their daughter wasn’t there. He knew it was because their home would be missing that light their daughter gave off, the light that y/n gave off when she came into any room.

Tim let out a deep sigh as he moved in his seat for the hundredth time, “would you quit it?” Lucy asked.

“My belt is beginning to become uncomfortable,” Tim commented.

“I know,” Lucy said as she looked up from her phone, “that’s why I called Angela to bring us some spare clothes from our lockers,” she said just as Angela walked out of the elevator.

“How’s our girl doing?” Angela asked as soon as she walked over to Lucy and Tim.

“The doctors came about an hour ago to update us, it was touch and go then,” Tim said.

“Fuck,” Angela sighed as she took a seat beside them, handing off the bag of clothes to Lucy.

Lucy quickly stood up, “I’m gonna go change,” she said as she grabbed her clothes from the bag before handing it off to Tim.

Tim watched as Lucy walked away to the bathroom, “How are you holding up?”

“I just wish I could get to the part where this is all over with and Y/n is back home and she’s safe and healthy.”

“Don’t we all,” Angela whispered.

The sound of the corridor doors opening caught Tim’s attention, his eyes diverting to the doctor who rushed through the doors and was walking towards him. Tim instantly recognized him as he stood up, “How is she?”

“She’s stable,” Tim let out a breath of relief, “she did sustain significant injuries and the road to recovery will be a long one, but what’s important is that she is stable for now. We want to keep her in the ICU until she’s off the ventilator.”

“But she’s okay,” Angela reassured.

“She’s stable,” the doctor repeated. “I would count that as a win.”

Tim nodded, “Can I see her?”

“Of course, I’ll take you up there myself.”

Tim glanced at Angela, “Go! I’ll let Lucy know.”

Tim nodded, grabbing his bag of spare clothes before following the doctor to the elevator.

“I do want to warn you, that what Y/N endured is traumatic. She had multiple fractures, extensive bruising, and some severe lacerations,” Tim was aware, but when he saw her, all he noticed was his little girl. He saw the blood, but only kept his eyes on her face, taking it in as much as he could.

“She will be swollen and it may look scary along with all the bandages and lacerations,” the doctor continued.

Tim swallowed hard, “I just want to see her,” he whispered as he tried hard to maintain his composure.

“And you will, I just want you to keep in mind that it may look bad, but trust me, it will heal and she will recover,” the doctor turns to face Tim, “your daughter is lucky to be alive considering the damage.”

The doctor stepped out of the elevator once it had stopped, and Tim followed him to one of the rooms in the ICU. “Let us know if you need anything,” the doctor said before leaving to give Tim some space.

Tim paused outside the door for a second, taking in a deep breath he walked into the room. The sight in front of him was worse than he had imagined, taking in a shaky breath, Tim hurried to the y/n’s side. He took in all the bandages and wires that were connected to her body, the tube that was coming out of her mouth that was to help her breath.

He gently took her hand in his, “I’m here,” he whispered as he placed a gentle kiss on her hand, “dad’s here,” he whispered again.

Days went by and Tim remained by y/n’s side. His anxiety was getting the best of him every day that passed, especially since there was no change. Things weren’t getting worse, but they weren’t getting better either. Every day the doctors and nurses came in to check on y/n Tim was hopeful that there would be some change or something new for them to say, but it all remained the same.

But today felt different. While Tim was holding y/n’s hand, he felt a small movement. He could have swore that she tightened her grip, he took that hope and ran with it. Getting any nurse that was available to show them what he saw. The doctor was quick to run some tests.

One of those tests in particular came back with new results, “It’s a risk,” the doctor commented.

“But there’s a possibility?” Tim asked. The doctor nodded, “Then let’s do it.”

Tim sat by as the doctors removed the ventilator, it was a risk. There was a percentage that Y/N could breathe on her own without it and that’s why she’s beginning to show movement, but then there could be a possibility in which she can’t yet breathe with out it. It was all risky, but Tim was willing to take the risk if it meant him knowing where she is on the road of recovery.

They waited for a few minutes, watching the machines carefully as the ventilator was now completely out.

“Is this good?” Tim asked.

“So far,” One of the doctors commented. “It looks like she is breathing on her on, we’ll continue to keep an eye on her.”

Slowly the few nurses and doctors that were in the room began to file out, leaving Tim alone with Y/n. He watched throughout the day as y/n breathed on her own. He took it all as a good sign.

Soon Tim felt his eyes growing heavy as he let the darkness consume him allowing sleep to enter his body. It was hours later when Tim heard was awakened by a soft groan.

At first, Tim didn’t quiet understand where it was coming from, his sleep overtaking him again and ignoring the groans. When he kept hearing them, his body quickly reacted, sitting up in his seat, his heart pounding as he looked over at y/n. Her eyes squinting from the brightness of the room, she groaned again.

“Hey, hey,” Tim rushed to her side.

“It hurts,” she groaned.

“I know, I know,” Tim softly said as he pressed the button near the bed, alerting the nurses.

It wasn’t long until a few of the nurses came rushing into the room, examining Y/N and giving her more pain medication. One of the doctors was alerted, he quickly came and ordered some tests before leaving.

“How are you feeling?” Tim asked as soon as they were alone.

“Like shit,” Y/N responded.

Tim chuckled, brushing a strand of hair away from her face, “you were out for a week,” he commented.

“I barely remember anything,” She confessed.

Tim sighed, “It was bad,” he began.

“I just remember… I remember hearing screams.”

Tim nodded, “Joey and Lisa made it out with a couple of broken bones. The people in the other car only had a couple of scratches.” He let out a deep sigh, “the driver that caused everything died upon impact.”

“And Jenna?”

Tim didn’t know how to muster up the words to tell y/n. He wish he could say that within the past week he figured the words but he didn’t.

Y/N didn’t like the silence she was receiving, “Tim, what about Jenna?” she asked again.

“They did everything they could,” Tim began to say, tears welling up in her eyes.

Y/N shook her head, “No.”

“Y/N, honey, I know-”

“It should’ve been me,” She cried out.

“Don’t say that,” Tim raised his voice.

“Her parents,” She cried, “It should’ve been me.”

Tim let in a deep breath, “I almost lost you too, Y/n,” letting out a shaky breath, “I had to watch the paramedics bring you back to life. There was no saving Jenna when they arrived, but they were able to save you.”

Tears welled up in y/n’s eyes as she watched Tim break down in front of her, “I know that’s not what you want to hear and I am sorry about Jenna, she meant everything to our little family, but seeing you lifeless on the floor… It broke me. I don’t think I could ever recover from that.”

Y/n never imagined to hear those words come from Tim, she knew he cared for her, but she didn’t imagine that he truly cared enough that if she were gone he would miss her. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

Tim mustered up a smile, “No, I’m sorry, this was a experience I wished you never had to experience, but I am here for you. We’re going to get through this together, okay?”

She gave him a small nod, Tim sniffles, “I wanted to wait until the paperwork came in, but I think you need to hear this now.”

Y/n gave Tim a confused expression.

Tim sighed before he continued, “I want to adopt you.”

“What? Are you serious?” She asked with a surprised expression.

“As serious as I ever could be, you have been my daughter since the day I took you in, there is no changing that, So what do you think? Want to officially become a Bradford?”

Tears began to well up in y/n’s eyes, “You want to adopt me?” She asked.

Tim chuckled, “Of course, I do.”

“Then I guess I should start calling you dad now, huh?”

Tim smiled, placing a small kiss on y/n’s forehead, “that’s up to you, hon.” Tim knew that the road from here on out wasn’t going to be easy. It was long and bumpy, but he knew that he could take the challenge one day at a time, especially since the risk of loosing you wasn’t as high as it was before. That’s all that mattered to Tim.

#Tim bradford #tim bradford x lucy chen #tim bradford x reader #tim bradford x you #tim bradford x teen!reader #tim bradford angst #tim bradford x y/n #tim bradford x teen!foster!reader #tim bradford x daughter!reader #tim bradford teen!reader #tim bradford teen!reader angst #tim bradford x teen!reader angst #tim bradford imagine #tim x lucy #chenford #tim bradford the rookie #the rookie imagines

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tenjikufag · 4 months

Note

dude im a cornball and a hornball at thr same time and i found out when i saw jiyans slutty ahh WAIST 😍 SO i humbly request for jiyan x top male reader smut 😭 maybe after a td outbreak hes all tired n stuff so reader takes care of him the whole night <33

Reward.

Jiyan x Top!Male Reader

-SMUT!, fluffy, sub(?) Jiyan etc it’s smut there’s nothing more to it ?

-THANK YOU FOR THE REQ!! I adore this man. Going from story line though ah hope that’s okay.

Jiyan groaned, his body and mind tired from the TD outbreak and having to attend the summer games almost directly afterwards. Rover was a nice change of pace to have around, made his own life easier and eased a lot of social tension present from attending while being.. well him. He’s the general, and anyone under him would feel a certain way about having him in their party.

But, none of that mattered because he wanted nothing more than to return home to you- you’d been one of the resonators to stay back to protect the city borders and while you were absolutely fine and unscathed.. he couldn’t keep you out of his thoughts the whole time.

His body craved to feel you after it all, with everything being so crazy since Rover had woken and almost seemingly set off every catalyst to the impending outbreak.. you weren’t around nearly enough for his liking.

—

Jiyan felt his feet start to drag, his ankles almost jelly when the home the two of you shared came into view. A soft smile teased his lips when he finally reached the front door.

“Ji? Is that you?”

Your voice released the tension he held in his jaw and shoulders; quickly he followed your voice, without a single second wasted his arms wrapped around your torso.

“It’s nice to see you too, love. Go get washed up and I’ll have your clothes and blankets ready on the bed..”

“Just let me hold you for a moment longer..”

Smiling, you let him squeeze you. You could feel how tense his joints were, his new scratches and bruises would surely appear within the next hours but you’d tend to them when he was clean. The male finally, but reluctantly, let go and made his way to the bathroom to shower.

You were relieved to know he was relatively okay, obviously exhausted but okay nonetheless. It was time to prep his reward, a massage!

It was routine.

—

Setting his things out on the bed, the water shut off and he slinked out of the bathroom, followed by the steam.

“Lay down, I have everything ready. Just relax.”

His long damp hair cascaded down his body, swaying with every step he took to lay down on the bed- stomach down and he cuddled into the pillows.

Squirting a bit of lotion into your hands, you warmed it up and started from his legs up.

Your partner had no real reaction aside from sighs of relief but when you started his thighs, he started to moan.

“Right there, ugh.. press deeper..”

Chuckling, you complied. The higher you went, more he moaned and whined.

His waist and back were the most sensitive.

And you loved teasing him..

Digging your thumbs into his hips, he whined and arched his back. You circled around the flesh, relishing in his shaky breathes and the way he gripped the sheets.

“Don’t get too excited Jiyan, we aren’t even half way..”

Leaning up to his ear, you whispered to him and gave him light praises.

“You did such a good job, general.. I’m so glad I get to make you feel so good~”

Gliding your thumbs up his sides, you rubbed inwards to his tacet mark.

Not many non resonators knew, but a tacet mark is incredibly sensitive. Despite needing to be exposed to be used, the marking was sensitive to the touch.

Jiyan adored when you touched it, making his body flush with arousal at the tender care you took with each pass you made at it.

The male laid huffing under you, blush evident from his ears.

“So lewd, general. I almost think you’d want something else, Hm?”

You brought your hand towards his glutes and massaged deeply into the plush flesh. Earning a breathy moan from him.

“I want my reward.. please..”

“Oh? What’s that? What does my sweet boy want?”

“It’s my reward, please.. stop messing around..”

Smiling softly, you complied. Getting off the bed and grabbing oils. Returning to the bed you kneeled behind him, his legs straddled under your own.

“I apologize, you’re right. You did so well, such a good job, and still managed to come back to me~ how lucky am I?”

Massaging the oil onto his ass, you slowly made you ways towards his entrance- lightly separating his cheeks and letting oil drip onto his hole.

The male was already moaning freely under you, twitching slightly every time you ghosted over his entrance.

“Are you ready?”

He groaned out a “yes please” and that would have to suffice for now.

Scooping more oil into your hand, you toyed around the rim and slipped a finger in. His ass clenched around your finger before relaxing, allowing you to move around.

It wasn’t long until you slipped two in, then three.

Jiyan raised his hips, almost chasing after your hand every time you pulled out.

“Such a good boy. So good for me.”

Reaching your hand around, you grabbed his hard dick- it was throbbing in your hand and all of his precum made it easy to start jerking him off.

He moved his head to the side to peak at you behind him, mouth open and gasping.

“More. Give me more.”

Pulling away your hands, you wiped them off on the towel beside your partner.

You undressed, far too slow for your partners liking. He flipped to lay on his back and raised his legs for you.

His face was flushed, a faint dribble of drool on the corner of his lips.. he was a sight to behold, truly.

You loomed over him, tip barely poking into him as you looked into his glazed eyes. Leaning down, you caught his lips and he eagerly accepted- letting your tongue explore his mouth and bite his lips.

He whimpered when you pulled away, only to quickly clasp a hand over his mouth when you finally slid into him.

“You gotta relax Ji.. your squeezin’ too hard..”

Hissing, his ass almost painfully gripped you and sucked you in deeper. You leaned down again and kissed his neck to ease his tightness. The more he moaned, the less pressure you felt around you.

When he was finally relaxed, you started thrusting into his at an even, mild, pace. Just like he liked.

This was a reward after all, he needed to be pampered and cared for.

With every thrust, he gasped and tried to grab something. Whether it was the sheets, his own hair, your arms, anything. His need to grab something always led to him pulling you close and scratching your back out of desperation.

His nails dug into your skin as he cried in pleasure. You hissed with every pass his nails made, running over the same spots over and over.

“I’m gonna..”

He came all over his stomach, eyes tightly held shut. His body tensed, letting go of you and breathing heavily.

Smiling, you licked your lips and pecked his cheek before leaning up and placing your hands on his tiny waist.

Circling your thumbs on the soft flesh, you picked up the pace. Making him gasp, putting his hands up to pull at his own hair and arching his back. He bit his lips the faster you went, abuse on his prostate made his vision hazy and almost let him choke on his drool.

The heat in your abdomen built, your own gasping mixing with the gasps from the male under you.

“Alright love, quickly.. fuck.. in or out..”

“In. Don’t you dare pull out.”

He glared up at you, as if you’d asked him the dumbest question ever before going back to being a gasping moaning mess.

Nodding, you kept up the pace and the burning became a wave of warmth as you came inside him.

Jiyan twitched under you, his last orgasm riding out with your load inside him.

He laid there, trying to catch his breathe. You smiled softly at him, giving him another kiss and peppering soft pecks around his face.

“Good boy, you did a great job. I’m proud of you.”

He only groaned, making you laugh lightly.

#wuthering waves x male reader #wuwa x male reader #wuthering waves x reader #wuwa x reader #jiyan x reader #jiyan x male reader

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henry7931 · 4 months

Text

Bet

Will:

The two straight guys you see above are Caleb and Tristan, we are sort of friends. Although we barely have anything in common nor do we really socialize in public.

But one thing we do share in common is our group gaming night on Sundays. We play video games every Sunday for hours. And we even have teams, ‘the straights vs. the gays’. My best friend Jake and I are the gay team while the other two ‘best bros’ are the opposing straights.

We get really competitive and we will even make bets at the beginning of the night. But last night was the craziest bet so far.

The night was pretty much the same as usual, a lot of trash talking but at one point Caleb made a comment that Jake and I both thought was outlandish.

“Yo y’all gay guys have it easy,” he said to us.

I piped up and said, “how so?”

Caleb went on this tangent about how straight guys have it so tough these days and how much easier it is to be gay.

Jake and I laughed at him.

“Dude you couldn’t be gay for one day,” said Jake.

“What’s so hard for you Jake? I could easily be you for a day but you couldn’t handle being me,” says Tristan.

“Oh is that right?” says Jake.

“Yeah you wanna bet on it?” I added.

“Sure,” says Tristan.

I thought for a moment, are these guys down to do what I think?

“All four of us swap bodies. No BS, we all have to do the other ones routines, no one outside of us four can know and we have to be convincing in public that we are all each other. First one to ask to swap back loses.”

“Caleb you down bro?” asks Tristan.

“Yeah bro, this will be easy,” Caleb says with a grin.

“How much are we betting on?”

“Hmmmm…. How about $1,000 a piece.”

Jake’s eyes get wide as he hears me say the amount.

Both Tristan and Caleb grin and say, “deal.”

After hopping off, I immediately started writing down my daily stuff and everything Caleb would have to do. I made sure it was as ‘gay’ as possible. I even gave him going to a gay bar Friday which I’m sure will blow his mind lol.

So as I laid down last night, it started to hit me. I’m actually going to swap bodies with Caleb— and low key Caleb’s hot.

My mind raced thinking about what it will be like having his body. And I started to get hard from the thought.

I looked down at my slim frame and imagined what it’s going to be like with all of those muscles.

I thought about jerking off but Hell I’ll let that be Caleb’s problem in the morning.

The Next Morning:

I woke up notably in a different room, a very straight man’s room. Caleb has dirty laundry backed up into a pile in the corner, his hats stacked up on the wall, and a bunch of obscure pictures which I’m sure his ex decorated for him.

I lifted up the comforter and even Caleb knowing I was going to be in his body this morning he still slept commando.

I looked down at the bulge inside of his boxers and then down at his hairy legs and feet. His sheets have this musk that immediately filled my noise. I’m sure he doesn’t wash them enough.

Caleb’s bulge started to get hard and my first reaction was to touch it.

But instead I grabbed Caleb’s phone and called Tristan’s number. It rings for a few until I hear Tristan’s groggy voice come across.

“Will is that you?” says Tristan’s voice with Jake in control of it.

“Yeah it’s me,” I say back.

“Holy sh*t! I can’t believe that agreed to do this,” says Jake.

“I know! Have you uhhh… explored any?” I asked him.

“Fuck yeah! Tristan has some sexy feet!”

“I bet! So does Caleb,” I say wiggling his toes.

One thing about Jake and I is that we are pretty open with each other. We originally met on a gay hook up app and have only hooked up once. That night we were both so hammered that we ended up sharing all of our kinks together. Turns out both of us are into all of the same things. Feet, jocks, pits, etc. We even send dirty vids we’ve jerked off to back and forth. It’s a strange friendship but at least I know I can trust him.

“Will, you have to send me some pics! I’m hard as a rock right now!”

“Hold up, I got you bro,” I say to him.

“The way you say bro with his voice is so hot,” says Jake.

I laugh at him and pull out one of Caleb’s feet for the pic.

“Heading your way!”

“Oh my god his soles! I wanna suck on his toes so bad,” he says.

“I’d let you bro, you can suck on my toes anytime,” I say to him.

“Oh my god, keep talking like that!”

“Only if you send a pic back,” I say to him.

“One sec man I’m about to nut,” he says breathing heavy.

“Jake you’re jerking it right now?”

“Yeah man, I started before we got on the phone. Oh fuuuuuuckkk, this cock feels so… Will! Will! I’m cumming!! I’m cumming a lot!”

I’m so hard, I can’t help but join in. I pull off Caleb’s boxers and his 10” rock hard cock comes out.

“Wow it’s beautiful,” I say out loud over the phone.

“What is?” says Jake out of breath.

“Caleb’s dick, it’s like perfect.”

“Oh Tristan’s has a curve to it but it’s huge! I literally have a foot long between my legs. He needs to trim his pubes though, I’ll probably fix that here shortly,” says Jake.

I can’t speak, my focus is on the nicest dick I’ve ever seen. I run Caleb’s fingers along his sack all the way up his cock head. I feel chills…

I aggressively grab and start pumping it. I start moaning loudly.

I can hear Jake in the background saying, “dude, switch to FaceTime!!”

I’m too into the moment to put on a show. I lift up Caleb’s foot and sniff it while vigorously jerking off.

I run his tongue up and down his sole and scream out, “I’m Caleb Thomas now bitch!”

I’m so close, i wanted to go on forever. But that’s when Caleb dick literally sprays cum everywhere uncontrollably.

“Shit!”

“What?” says Jake.

“I got his cum in my eye,” I say back.

“Hahaha I’ll be over shortly!,” says Jake.

#body swap #male body swap #straight to gay

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thealternateuniverse · 5 months

Text

How did you handle it?

1st part here

A/N: Didn't expect the number of likes on the first part, thank you so much 😭

Also, I know now who does Paige's braids now. I saw her on tiktok.

Warning/s: Read at your own risk

----------------------

Following Ice's most recent live stream, Y/N's phone is constantly vibrating, and her Instagram feed is overflowing with follow requests and mentions. She didn't leave her apartment on the weekends after hearing from her teammates about their near-brawl on Friday night. She was trying to blow off some steam at the time, but she lost her cool and almost got into it. Azzi gave them a good earful, and Geno had more to say. Y/N apologized to her teammates, explaining that she was acting out of character at the time.

She felt a little better and forgot about her parents' divorce for a while. Not until her father texted her that he will be at her game next week. Dad is always the one who comes to her games; mom is too busy and cannot make time.

Frustrated, Y/N drops the dumbels.

"Yo! "KK, give me back my phone!" KK is running for her life, clutching Paiges' phone. Paige, on the other hand, looks terrified as if her life depends on with whatever is contained within her phone.

"Whaaaat! Dude, I just caught you stalking---asfghgjjhkjlhlk!" Paige caught up with KK and placed her palm on her mouth.

"Shut up!" She took her phone.

KK sounds like a dying goat now, with Paige's hands still on her mouth. Paige lets go of her and KK gasped for air.

"Shit, Hah! I just did not saw you do that P!" KK is shaking her head, laughing.

"I swear K, if you open your mouth I'll make sure that you will nev---" KK immediately zipped her mouth.

"You got it P! Your 'lil secret is safe." KK gave her a mischievous wink.

These two are as mischievous as ever.

Shaking her head, Y/N slips off her sweat-soaked muscle top, revealing only her sports bra. She could see Paige and KK's jaws drop from her peripheral vision. She turned towards them.

"What? "You guys have some saliva here." Y/N pointed to the side of her lip. The two appear to have come to their senses and instantly pretend to do something. Weird. It's as if they're seeing each other for the first time, taking off their clothes. Y/N twisted her hair into a sloppy knot and resumed lifting. She was halfway through lifting when Nika slapped her bum.

"Babe, I need you to braid my hair. Do you have a sec?"

She nodded to Nika and followed her. They walk past the others who were working out, and Y/N couldn't help but notice Paige and the way her biceps and deltoids popped while doing that damn pull up. Get a grip, Miller; you see your teammate doing this on a regular basis. Y/N reprimanded herself.

"So is mine eye enthralled by thy shape," Nika recited dramatically.

Nika came out laughing after noticing Y/N glancing at Paige.

"Don't worry, babe; she gets it a lot. And... Damn, did you just realized she's fine? You have to keep up; you have a home court advantage here." Nika winked. Y/N gave Nika a puzzled glance. It's not that she likes Paige; she just admires the muscles. That is it.

"I don't know what you're talking about, babe." Y/N said making Nika snort.

"Okay, alright. I'm blind, I can't see, must be my poor eyesight."

Y/N endured Nika's teasing while doing her hair; she doesn't want to appear defensive, so she allows her friend and pretends that Nika Muhl seeing her looking at Paige Bueckers didn't affect her.

"Thank you, Baby. "I love the braids." Nika blew her a kiss before they returned to their routines.

------------

Paige glanced around cautiously before scrolling through her phone. She couldn't afford to repeat the same mistake that had led to her being caught by KK. She wasn't stalking, though; the algorithm following Ice's live had led her to Y/N's tagged photos and edits on Instagram. It was kind of annoying that Y/N was now known for being the "pretty girl" from the team instead of for her talent as a player. Paige had witnessed firsthand how great Y/N was during her time at Stanford. If it weren't for her MCL injury during her second year, she would have been neck and neck with Nika's stats in the last 2022-2023 conference.

"Girly, you are still not done? Man you are really living up to be a stalker ." KK tried to glance at Paige's phone, Paige was quick to hide it.

"I am not!" Paige responded defensively.

"Of course, why stalk when you can see her every day. Home court advantage." KK playfully raised her brows and gestured towards where Y/N is, shooting 3 point shots. Yeah, Paige mused to herself. Paige knows she's got the home court advantage, always playing on familiar turf. Y/N, on the other hand, is a social media ghost, her posts as rare as a shooting star, reserved only for strategic brand alliances. Just like she guards the offensive players on the court, she protects her privacy with the same intensity, keeping her personal life shrouded in mystery.

"You are not gonna like this." KK's gasp breaks the silence, drawing Paige's attention as she leans in, sharing her latest sports article discovery. With rapt interest, they both delve into the words, their silent communion speaking volumes as they absorb every line, lost in the world of sports unfolding before them.

Sports Agent Katherine Taylor-Miller Entangled in New Romance Amidst Divorce

In a whirlwind of events, sports agent Katherine Taylor-Miller finds herself at the center of media attention following news of her divorce from husband Craig Miller. The prominent figure in the sports world, best known for representing basketball star Breanna Stewart, is reportedly embarking on a new romance with Los Angeles' top firm lawyer, Drew Ross.

While Taylor-Miller has remained tight-lipped about the circulating photos online, indicating her involvement with Ross, sources close to the situation confirm that the divorce proceedings are well underway. The couple, who share a daughter, aged 22, are navigating this transition as their family dynamic shifts.

Adding a layer of complexity to the situation, their daughter, a talented athlete in her own right, has been making waves on the collegiate basketball scene. Initially playing for Stanford University during her freshman and sophomore years, she has recently transferred to the University of Connecticut for her junior year, following in the footsteps of her mother's client, Breanna Stewart.

The unfolding saga has captivated both sports enthusiasts and gossip followers alike, as speculation mounts about the implications for Taylor-Miller's career and personal life. As the situation continues to develop, all eyes remain on the high-profile sports agent and her newfound path forward.

Paige's confusion bubbles to the surface in her question. "Wait, so... that is Y/N's mom?"

KK nods solemnly. "Yep. Didn't expect that."

Paige's brow furrows as she scans the article again. "That article is nasty. It was unnecessary to mention, Y/N."

The two exchange a knowing glance before their gaze shifts towards Y/N, who remains blissfully unaware of the storm brewing in the tabloids.

KK weighs the options for a moment before nodding resolutely. "Very. She's not gonna like it. Do we tell her?" KK's gaze seeks approval from Paige, who meets it with a shake of her head, silently acknowledging the delicate situation and opting to shield Y/N from unnecessary distress for now. "She'll find out sooner."

KK lets out a low whistle, her disbelief evident in her tone. "Unbelievable. I never thought her mom is Katherine Taylor. That woman was a badass, but yeah, whoever wrote this has some unpaid rent due." Paige nods in agreement, a hint of frustration tainting her expression as they both recognize the injustice of the situation.

The sudden thud startles both Paige and KK. Their heads snap towards the source of the sound, only to find Y/N on the bench-side taking a water break, her hand suspended and her phone on the floor.

"That's what we're talking about."

----------------

Y/N absentmindedly follows her teammates to Subway after they decided to grab some lunch there. Despite the buzz of camaraderie around her, she's lost in her own thoughts, savoring the simple pleasure of a break from today's events. Just as she starts to believe her day couldn't get any better, her world is rocked by the unwelcome intrusion of her parents' divorce being publicized.

Her heart sinks as she grapples with the sudden exposure of her family's private turmoil. Y/N has always been fiercely protective of her personal life, preferring to keep it shielded from prying eyes. The earlier article had already crossed a line, but this latest development feels like a betrayal of trust, a violation of the boundaries she holds sacred. She can't help but feel a surge of anger and frustration at the unnecessary intrusion into her family's affairs, a bitterness that threatens to overshadow the sweetness of her teammates' company.

Y/N finds a glimmer of solace in the silent solidarity of her teammates. As they gather around the table at Subway, not a single word is spoken about the tumultuous news that has shaken her world.

In that moment, Y/N feels a profound gratitude wash over her, a deep appreciation for their unspoken understanding and respect for her boundaries.

"The salad won't eat itself," snapped Paige, jolting Y/N from her deep thoughts. Y/N mechanically took a fork, but her salad remained untouched.

"Eat up, Miller. You need your energy." Paige commandeered the fork and began mixing the salad for Y/N.

"How did you handle it?" Y/N's voice trembled with vulnerability, causing Paige to pause mid-stir.

Paige didn't respond immediately, her mind racing to grasp the depth of Y/N's question. It didn't take long for the realization to sink in—it was about the divorce.

"When your parents divorced? How did you handle it?" Y/N's eyes glistened with unshed tears, a vulnerability she hadn't intended to reveal. Paige felt a pang of empathy twist in her gut. Y/N's question caught her off guard.

"Nevermind," Y/N murmured, her voice barely above a whisper as she wiped away the threatening tears. Determinedly, she finally began to eat her salad, hoping to distract herself from the emotional turmoil of the day.

As she savored each bite, Y/N made a conscious effort to push aside the weight of her parents' divorce. Her phone buzzed incessantly with texts and calls, but she only mustered the strength to respond to her dad via text. All she wanted was for their divorce to be finalized so they could all move forward with their lives.

Her thoughts drifted to the inevitable changes ahead. Her mom and dad would each go their separate ways, free to pursue new relationships if they so chose. While the idea of their family no longer being whole was a painful one, Y/N knew it was time to accept reality.

Above all, she yearned for one simple request: no more articles portraying her solely as her mother's daughter. She was determined to forge her own path, to carve out her own identity separate from her family's legacy.

-------

"You okay, babe?" Nika asked Y/N, slinging her arm around her shoulders. Y/N responded with her most convincing smile. "I'm fine," she assured Nika, though the skepticism lingered in her friend's nod. "Just so you know, we're here for you, okay?" Nika offered a comforting hug. "Thanks, babe."

As they strolled back to the university after lunch, Nika, Azzi, and Aaliyah had already forged ahead for their afternoon classes, while Paige had disappeared into god knows where. Y/N's afternoon lay open; no classes to attend. She pondered whether to take a stroll around her apartment's neighborhood or indulge in a swim in the pool.

Waving goodbye to her teammates as they reached the university's parking lot, she contemplated driving back home.

Sighing, Y/N parked her car and headed towards her apartment, only to be surprised by a waiting Paige Bueckers holding a pint of Ben & Jerry's chocolate fudge ice cream.

"Paige, don't you have a class or something?" Y/N asked, noticing Paige still in her training attire: a UConn Huskies hoodie, basketball jersey shorts, socks, and slides.

Paige handed her the pint without saying anything.

"You asked me how I handled my parents' divorce," Paige shrugged.

"W-well forget it. I didn't mean to ---"

"It was hard. I thought we were a happy family, that they had vows, through thick and thin, for better or worse type of shit. I was angry, wondering what could possibly make them decide they weren't meant for each other. They had me for Christ's sake. It hurt to think that one day they'd meet someone new and start over, and what about me if that happens?" Paige took a deep breath before continuing.

"The good thing is, I was able to understand that it's better to have that divorce than to pretend they're still happy. I saw how happy my father is with his new family, happier than he was with my mother... All I'm trying to say is, whatever you feel in your current situation is valid—all the thoughts running in your head, the what-ifs, they're all valid. You'll come to terms with it soon, just give yourself time to feel it. And don't forget, you have us. It sucks to be a divorce child if you don't have siblings. It's okay, Miller. You can mope, you can lash out, feel it all the way."

Y/N burst into tears, sobbing uncontrollably, surprising Paige, especially considering they were in a parking lot. Y/N didn't know why the floodgates had opened—was it the news of her parents' divorce? The stress of the article? Or perhaps simply the ice cream? Regardless, she found herself releasing all the pent-up emotions.

"Christ, Miller. I didn't expect you to break down right here," Paige panicked, attempting to pacify her, though Y/N continued crying loudly.

Paige gently grabbed her hand, and together they walked towards Y/N's apartment, Y/N still sobbing loudly.

"People will think I made you cry." Paige said shaking her head.

They entered Y/N's apartment, with Paige leading the way as Y/N was too preoccupied at the moment. Paige settled Y/N on her couch and opened the ice cream she had brought. Y/N accepted it and took a spoonful, still teary-eyed.

Paige looked at her friend in disbelief, finding her oddly cute in this vulnerable state, with red, glistening eyes and puffy cheeks from crying.

They sat in silence, letting the ice cream provide comfort. It worked, as Y/N's tears eventually ceased.

"Thank you, Bueckers. I needed that cry and... the ice cream. How can I ever pay you back?" Y/N leaned her head on Paige's shoulder, grateful it was Paige who knew her favorite ice cream flavor.

Paige pretended to ponder the question. "You don't have to. Just get back to being yourself," she said, gently ruffling Y/N's hair. Y/N sighed in contentment.

"I mean it, though. Thank you for being here. I was resigned to being miserable today," Y/N said, her voice filled with gratitude. They exchanged glances, and Paige found herself momentarily lost in Y/N's mesmerizing eyes. There was something about them that drew her in. She quickly looked away, not wanting to get too carried away and do something she shouldn't.

"Yeah, it's nothing. Get yourself together, Miller," Paige replied, more to herself than to Y/N, feeling her ears grow warm.

"Are you okay? You seem... red?" Y/N asked, noticing Paige's flushed cheeks.

"Not as red as you are. You look ugly when you cry, Y/N," Paige remarked, trying to lighten the mood.

Y/N stiffened at the comment. This was the first time she had heard Paige address her by her first name. The surprise on Y/N's face caused Paige's brows to furrow.

"What?" Paige asked, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

"Nothing, you've never called me by my name before. Or maybe you did, I just didn't hear you," Y/N shrugged, trying to downplay it. She didn't want to make Paige feel awkward.

"I just don't know what to feel hearing it from you. It sounds different," Y/N admitted.

Paige choked on her response, caught off guard by Y/N's vulnerability. This woman will be the death of her one day. -----------------

#paige buckets #paige bueckers #azzi fudd #kk arnold #nika muhl #uconn wbb #uconn women’s basketball #uconn huskies #paige bueckers x reader

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sweetvllain · 12 days

Text

The base was quiet at night, the low hum of generators and the occasional distant chatter the only sounds breaking the stillness. Most soldiers were asleep or holed up in their barracks, but not you. You never did well with silence; it gave your mind too much time to think. And thinking wasn’t something you had the luxury of doing.

Tonight, however, you weren’t alone.

You didn’t know his name. Not his real one, at least. Everyone just called him Ghost. The infamous soldier with the skull mask and the piercing stare, the man who seemed more shadow than human. You’d heard stories about him long before you ever arrived at base, stories that bordered on myth. Some of them made him sound like a ghost, able to disappear and reappear at will, while others painted him as nothing short of a monster on the battlefield.

But you had learned early on not to believe every story you heard. Especially not about the man you’d come to know, the one who always seemed to be one step ahead of you, always watching from the edges of the room. You didn’t need to see his face to feel his eyes on you, the way they seemed to strip you down, revealing more than you were comfortable with.

It had started as a challenge. A way to test your skills against his. After all, Ghost had a reputation, and so did you. Both of you were the best at what you did—silent, lethal, ghosts in your own right. But the more time you spent in proximity, the more the lines blurred between professionalism and something else.

Something darker. Something you couldn’t name.

It was like a game—this constant back and forth, the unspoken tension that lingered between the two of you. You didn’t even know what he looked like under that mask. Hell, he didn’t know what you looked like either. You were both enigmas to each other, hiding behind layers of armor and aliases. And somehow, that only made the chase more intoxicating.

You leaned against the wall of the base’s hallway, your arms crossed over your chest as you stared out into the dimly lit corridor. The night shift was always the quietest, the least eventful. But tonight, you had a feeling that was about to change. It always did when Ghost was involved.

Footsteps—soft, deliberate—echoed down the hall. You didn’t move, didn’t flinch. You had been expecting him. The air shifted as he approached, the presence of someone so used to being unnoticed still somehow demanding attention.

“You’re out late,” his voice, low and gravelly, slipped through the quiet like a blade through flesh. He wasn’t standing too close, but you could feel him—his presence always loomed larger than life. The mask, the quiet way he spoke, it all added to the mystery. You’d never seen his face, but you’d imagined it more times than you cared to admit.

“I could say the same for you,” you replied, not turning to look at him just yet. You didn’t need to. You could sense him, the way his eyes tracked you from beneath that skull. “But then again, I wouldn’t expect anything less from a ghost.”

A low chuckle followed, humorless and deep. “Seems like you’re always expecting me these days.”

You finally turned your head, meeting his gaze—or what little you could see of it. The mask covered nearly everything, except his eyes. Dark, unreadable. You’d never been able to decipher them, no matter how hard you tried. Your eyes trailed over the rest of his tall frame, taking in the way the dark jeans wrapped around his muscular thighs, how the balaclava was still over his face, covered by a dark hood. He scoffed.

“Hard not to when you’re always around,” you said, your tone teasing, though there was an edge to it. This game the two of you played had become routine, yet it never felt old. The stakes were unspoken but ever-present. One of you would eventually break. The question was: who would it be first?

Ghost took a step closer, and you felt the air shift between you, growing thicker, heavier. The tension in the space was palpable, like a coiled spring ready to snap. You could see it in the way he moved, deliberate, almost predatory, as if he were waiting for you to make the first move. It was part of the game—this back-and-forth, where neither of you gave too much away, yet hinted just enough to keep the other on edge.

“You think I don’t notice the way you watch me?” Ghost asked, his voice low but filled with something dark, something challenging. He was close now, close enough that you could feel the heat of his body even through the armor both of you wore, close enough that the scent of gun oil and smoke clung to the air around him.

You raised an eyebrow, refusing to back down, even though your pulse quickened under the weight of his gaze. “You think I don’t notice how you’re always a step behind me?” You took a small step forward, bringing yourself even closer, almost daring him to close the gap between you. “Or are you afraid you might not be able to keep up?”

Ghost didn’t move, but you could feel the shift in his posture, the subtle tightening of his jaw under the mask. “Afraid?” he repeated, the word laced with disbelief. He leaned down slightly, his eyes narrowing as they locked onto yours. “You don’t know anything about fear. Not yet.”

Your breath hitched, and for a moment, the air felt too thick to breathe. There was something dangerous in his voice, something that sent a shiver down your spine. But it wasn’t fear. It was anticipation. The game was escalating, and you were ready to see where it would go.

“You talk a big game, Ghost,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper, “but I think you’re more afraid of what you might find under that mask than I am.”

That did it. The space between you evaporated in an instant as he closed the distance, his gloved hand reaching out to pin you against the wall behind you. The cold concrete pressed into your back, but it was the intensity in Ghost’s gaze that kept you frozen in place. His body hovered inches from yours, his breath warm and ragged, barely contained.

“Oh, you little..” He groaned, his eyes closing shut. You had never seen this man lose control, but it looked like he was holding on by a thread now. All because of you.

Just as you had opened your mouth to speak, you stumbled backwards. It had been a door that you were pushed up against. The bastard opened it. He held your arm, keeping you from falling. “Careful.” He hummed in that annoyingly husky voice of his, a smirk hiding beneath his face cover.

“Shit.” You huffed, getting your sense of balance back. His arm didn’t let go, though. Not yet. Another hum escaped his lips at the sight of you, in his grasp. A calloused hand of his wrapped around your neck, catching you off guard, a whimper escaping your lips.

“Look at you.” He grinned, his thumb slowly pushing your balaclava above your lips. Cherry red and plump. Fuck. He bets you taste like one, too. Why not find out?

He pulled his own mask up, revealing his mouth. A soft scar painted his top lip, running up his face and disappearing under the rest of his cover. You wanted nothing more than to feel it under your tongue.

His eyes were locked on yours, and for the first time, you saw something there that wasn’t just cold calculation. It was raw, unfiltered, like something inside him had finally slipped out. The air between you was uncomfortably thick.

“‘m gonna kiss you now, dolly.” And he did. He fucking did.

The kiss wasn’t soft, wasn’t gentle. It was fierce and desperate, filled with everything you had both been holding back for far too long. His hand gripped the back of your neck, pulling you even closer, his lips crushing against yours with a need that mirrored your own. It was like you’d been waiting for this for what felt like forever, and now that it was happening, neither of you could hold back.

It was intoxicating—full of heat, raw and demanding. There was nothing hesitant about it, no question of whether this was the right thing to do. In this moment, with the world around you disappearing, it was the only thing that made sense.

You melted into him, your body pressing against his as his other hand found your waist, anchoring you to him. There was no more distance, no more space. It was just him and you, a collision of breath, heat, and want.

“May the gods forgive me for what I wanna do to you tonight.”

reblogs appreciated ^-^

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost #ghost cod #simon riley smut #ghost smut #call of duty #ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost x y/n #simon riley x y/n

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jolapeno · 7 months

Text

him. he. joel.

joel miller x f!reader | joel miller masterlist

summary: you don't know his name. he doesn't know yours. yet.

wordcount: 1.5k warnings: PRE OUTBREAK. a suggestion of alcohol as they're in a bar, but never consumed. smut. unprotected sex with a stranger (at first). oral sex (m!receiving + f!receiving). no use of y/n. no age gap is specified (use your imagination, honey). jo spelling too, cause wrote this on my phone read on ao3

Your eyes land on his across the room.

Throat drying at first contact, feet glueing more to the insoles of your shoes as you focus on keeping your back straight—poised, unwilling to crack or bend.

Especially when he seeks you out over random heads and remains there even when you pretend to look away.

You only see him here occasionally.

No routine, no plan—no arrangement in place, just a chance and encounter.

As soon as you do, the two of you perform the same dance as the time before, circling and circling until the inevitable collision.

He doesn’t know your name; you don’t know his.

But, you do know how his cock feels in your throat. You do know the way his stubble feels on the inside of your thighs—and the grunt he makes when he spills inside of you.

Just like how you know the way his lips feel when he’s zipping himself back up, giving you one last parting kiss before he’s through the door of the bathroom, supply closet or exiting out of the back of your car.

Tonight, it’s another person's birthday.

Ericsson’s maybe? Or a person called Monty—you’re not sure.

You’re just wondering how long it’ll take before the usual routine comes into play.

Will he find you outside, head turned away under the twinkling, milky stars and a cloudless sky before he snaps your attention to him? Or, will his fingers, deft and thick, find your wrist—pull you into a dark corner and slant his mouth across yours to smother your gasp?

Except tonight feels different, something in the air—it is all heavy, layering thick. Some part of you wondering if there are new rules to the game, ones not shared, not handed to you—more so when he breaks away from the rowdy celebrations and leans on the bar next to you.

“Alone?”

“Aren’t I always?”

He chews his tongue, the sleeves of his brown t-shirt clinging to his biceps—parts of the seam unthreaded, likely over-worn.

“You taking me away from here or will we see if my lipstick is still on the mirror from last time?”

All set to move, to slide from your usual bar stool, when he rests his palm on the back of it, caging you, keeping you there. All broad, wide, arms long, as you stare at him, enamoured, suddenly unsure why you don't just press your mouth to his here and now.

“You not like where y’sat?” he asks.

Doing so as though he can’t see the twinkle in your eyes or see the play-by-play movie you hope will happen tonight flicking in your pupils. As though he can't see how he'd struggle to slide a finger between your pressed-together thighs, never mind his hand.

Moving your hand, you bring your glass closer, taking a sip of your Coke, ice clinking, straw remaining on your lip a second longer as his brown eyes dig a little deeper.

“Maybe, I just think your face is worth sitting on.”

You hadn’t banked on going home with him.

A shift, a noticeable change to the way things were. But, it thrilled you. Made the entire ride over an excited, uncomfortable mess as your underwear grew more ruined with every mile.

He’d made it worth it.

Gave you a fucking throne to sit on as he worked his tongue inside you like he was as starved as you. He drew you to the edge, hanging you over it as he paused, cool breaths blown before his tongue did a circle, a square, and a letter on your clit that made your ears ring, vision blur and your thighs ache from trembling.

Made you feel relief.

“All fours for me.”

It's followed by a demand, an order. One you follow with a scramble. A bend of your back that has him calling you a good girl as he inches his cock in—making your fingers clench around his bedsheets.

Your body welcomes him.

A blend of feeling good and too much all at once as you stretch around him. Feeling his palm on your spine, sliding down before moving over your hip. Words spoken, grunted into your skin that you’re barely able to discern as your breathing comes back to you, as you relax around him and let him bury himself to the hilt inside of you.

“Y’can move.”

And he does.

Making your body illuminate, a full-on tremble as you course with electricity. Each drag making you see those same spots in your vision. Making you moan, whine, groan.

That is, until you hiss—a different one than when he pinches your ear lobe between his teeth or when he sucks on the skin of your neck a little more intensely than normal.

You apologise. Tapping to move, finding he releases you, before you explain—Cramp. That’s all you offer. Fearful of crossing another boundary when you move, positioning yourself on your back and letting the low light from his bedside lamp shimmer over him.

And fuck, is he handsome. Beautiful.

The sheen of sweat makes him glow, makes every inch of him quickly committed to memory. Doing so for as long as you let yourself give before you're yanking his mouth back to yours, panted against it when he slides his cock back, pushing all the way, feeling the fullness you crave in the weeks between seeing him.

Because it’s a feeling you’d wait for.

Practically growing parched before you see him again, salivating at the sight of his eyes and hardened stare.

It's a thing you suspect he feels too, virtually confessing it with each thrust, punctuating it, practically marking it on your walls as his arm rests in the space above your head, caging you, allowing him to watch everything that flicks across your face.

It’s why when you wake up in an unfamiliar bed, in sheets that don’t smell like yours—a wish for his name begins burning there on the tip of your tongue now. All acidic—making a mark.

It does so as you find your clothes—as you slip your legs inside your jeans and manage to throw on your blouse.

It’s then you see the photos—stitch together the life your mystery man leads. Seeing that he has a kid, one with a beautiful smile—a child that looks half his and half someone you hope you don’t know.

A sickness churning, flipping inside of you as you slide out of the bedroom, sneak down the staircase and spot the door you can escape through.

It’s just, you know nothing about him.

You don’t know that he likes his coffee black and that he barely eats breakfast. In the same way, you don’t know that he rises early, and he’s already waiting for you because he’d heard the sound of the wobbly floorboards.

“Sneakin’ out?”

“Sneaking implies I’m embarrassed.”

Hand wrapped around a mug—making it look small, insignificant, he takes a sip. “You’re not?”

“Should I be?”

Shrugging, he takes another sip.

You say goodbye. Let the place his name should be linger.

Then you close his door behind you.

Fuck.

You learn his name is Joel.

Each of the four letters practically burnt into you when he handed them to you. Yet, you'd wished he'd seared them into your skin while his fingers held your chin.

Because then you could call it an accident.

But, he doesn't hand it to you that way. He gives it to you. Willingly.

Just like he does with slithers of his past, his work, that he comes here with his brother, and then his kid’s name—Sarah. Explains it in as few words as possible. Better than sitting at home alone. Better company here.

The latter almost makes your lips twitch into a smile.

Joel gives you all of this on a different kind of night than you normally see him. You're working, for one. Pencil tapping against the book, the numbers make sense—the maths finding their rhythm.

But, even if that all makes sense, he doesn’t.

Nothing about him adds up. An enigma, a confusion on two legs. Yet, you’re hooked—knew you were when you took him in the bathroom of the bar your friends own and got on your knees for him. When you unbuckled his belt and let it clang, tasting salt and pent-up frustration on your tongue as he filled your mouth with his release. He didn’t ask to see it, but you showed it to him anyway, earning an arrogant smirk before he’s helping you off the ground.

You tell him yours, exchange him for it as you look down at the books—nudging receipts with the eraser end of your pencil before he leans his forearms on the edge of the bar next to you.

“Already knew that.”

Your head turns before your neck catches up. Eyes narrowed, lips parting in a question—except it never leaves your throat.

“I asked about you.”

Dropping your pencil, you fight the smile. The one desperate to carve on your face. “Why?”

“Right thing to do.”

Brow arching, you smirk—letting that free, allow it to spread up to your eyes as your body twists.

“Y’think you’d wanna get outta here?”

“With you?”

He runs his tongue over the front of his teeth, thumb circling his finger. “Think I owe you dinner.”

Nodding, you close the book—pencil keeping your place, sliding it up, nodding to the person behind the bar before turning back to him.

“You did have dessert the last time we saw each other, Joel.”

“I did. Should know better—I’m a dad.”

Resting your cheek on your palm, you roll your lips, and watch red rise up his neck as he waits for your answer. “Your shirt is inside out.”

“Goddamn it.”

You go with him anyway.

an: I HAVE NEVER WRITTEN PRE-OUTBREAK JOEL. so thank my circle friends because this all began with them, and a faceless man. and now here we are.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x female reader #hbo joel miller x reader

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szoboobszlai · 2 months

Text

DOES HE KNOW?

pairing: ex-situationship!jude bellingham x female reader

warnings: none i guess

author notes: hi! this is the first time i wrote something like this and also the first time i have ever written something entirely in english – since it's not my first language, you may find some grammar mistakes. anyways, hope you enjoy it! 🤍✨

| edit: this is the first part of my one direction lyric-based writing series! you can find the full writing list here.

it was passing through jude’s head all night.

you, in that tight little skirt, were the only thing he could pay attention to – the other girls around him?

he didn’t even notice.

the only thing he noticed was the way you were dancing in that nightclub partnerless. that man you were going out with just didn’t show up? did you broke up this “thing” you had with him?

jude didn’t know.

in fact, you and jude were in a situationship for a few months last summer, in where he was on vacation from real madrid. nothing that serious for any of you – he was a world class player and you knew that you shouldn’t involve with this kind of man; you weren't a football groupie, after all.

he felt different, but never told you.

after he went back to madrid to restart the intense training routine, he knew that you started going out with another man; people told jude that you were with this guy named josh, and he actually saw both of you in a party a few weeks before.

jude knew the man knows a few things about you: your secret tattoo, your favorite band, the songs that you sing when you’re all alone.

but you’re not with josh tonight.

does he know that you try to hide your smile when jude bellingham catch your eye and see you looking at him?

does he know you can move like that just for jude to see it?

jude bet he didn’t.

— uh... hey. — he said when he got closer to you on the dance floor.

— hi, jude. — you answered, trying to not seem so nervous; it was jude bellingham, after all.

you knew he was that magnetic, with his dark eyes that could see through your soul and that strong and elegant woody scent you already knew.

you face each other for a while; his gaze gave you goosebumps, and you had exactly the same effect on him.

— it’s been a while, right? — he says shyly, almost afraid of your answer. — so... have you been alone tonight?

— yes, it’s been a while. i only see you in your games through the TV. — you confess. — and yes, i’m on my own tonight.

your red-lined smile made jude’s heart skip a beat; so you have been cheering on him last season, even with him playing on a team in another country?

actually, it was pretty nice for him to hear it.

— doesn't josh get jealous when he sees you watching to another men on TV? — jude asks. doesn't he get jealous when he sees you watching jude on TV? doesn't he get jealous seeing you cheering for a man that still wanted you so bad?

— i didn't care if he jealous or not, actually. — you answer, for jude’s surprise. — josh knew a lot about me, but nothing about me.

the silence between you overcame the loud music that echoed through the walls of the nightclub.

— how could him know you head to toe and yet don't know nothing about you?

— well... he’s not you, jude.

he knew that. jude bellingham knows you inside and out; he memorized every single detail of your face, the songs that you sing when you're all alone. everything about you.

the way you talked got him mesmerized.

the way he looked at you, with his lips slightly open, while the song was playing loudly on the background, got you thinking about how much you missed being in his arms.

as if jude was reading your mind, he closes the space between both of you, sealing your lips with a peck that turned into a loving kiss.

the way his hands fit perfectly in your waist, tracing every inch of your body, was making you insane.

the way he kissed your neck passionately, even if you were in the crowd, showed that he barely cared about being the worldwide famous footballer.

tonight, he was just yours.

does he know that you wanted him so bad?

#one direction #jude bellingham #real madrid #football #soccer #bellingham x reader

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sourholland · 1 year

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timeless; thomas shelby

This idea has been plaguing my mind for days, I cannot get it out of my head. I’m not sure if I will make any more parts of this, it all depends on how I feel about it and if it is well received. The timeline of this is skewed on purpose, it’s also heavily based on Tommy’s time fighting during the war. Timeless by Taylor Swift was a huge inspiration.

Both you and Tommy became unlikely friends during childhood, only for you to realize you had always loved him. Tommy finds himself seeing you in a different light, only war being able to separate the two of you. (3.5k)

Thomas Shelby was the first and only boy you had ever loved.

It was 1902, Tommy was twelve years old. He played with your older brother, they went out into the street with the Shelby brothers and few other boys from the neighborhood and kicked a ball around. You were eight, trailing your brother Joseph at every chance you had.

When you met Tommy, it was because you had chased after your brother one August afternoon with the intention to join their game of kickball. The moment you approached the large group of prepubescent boys, Joseph looked absolutely mortified. Even though he was older than some of the boys, at fourteen, he still followed all of Tommy’s orders. This, you didn’t understand.

“Go home,” he leaned down to your level in gritted teeth.

“I just want to play, just one game,” you pleaded with him. “Please, Joey.”

“No,” he barked. “Y/N, you gotta get out of here.”

Feeling your face heat up, you were near tears and embarrassed in front of all of the older boys. Joseph would not let up, angry at you for trying to play with him and his friends.

“What the fuck d’she want?” Arthur bellowed towards your brother.

Peering over at him, you could tell that he was not very patient and was even older than Joseph. After Arthur had yelled, you turned back to go home. Hot tears spilled down your cheeks as you shuffled back to where you lived and went inside to play alone.

“Fuckin’ asshole is what you are,” Tommy shook his head a bit. “Game’s not fuckin’ hard or anythin’, Joe. She could have played.”

That was all they ever said again on the matter, your brother never brought it up to you that night and you never spoke of it to him. It wasn’t until later on that month that anyone had approached you about what happened that day in Small Heath.

You were sent out to pick up your mother’s cigarettes, dragging your feet along the dirt path with the coin in your hand. Every Wednesday, you made the same trek. Tommy Shelby came up on your right side as you walked one day, you saw a screwdriver sticking out of his pocket and nearly shuttered. The kids around the neighborhood spoke of him in hushed whispers, calling him a gypsy and saying he and his brothers carried razor blades around with them.

“You’re Joe’s sister, aren’t you?” He asked, peering over at you. “Tried to join in on a game a while back?”

“Yes,” you nodded. “I’m Y/N.”

He hummed in response, kicking dirt with his shoe as you both walked. He was much taller than you, though he was still quite narrow and scrawny. Truthfully, there was no denying that you had a little bit of a schoolgirl crush on him.

“Where’re you headed?” He finally spoke up.

“Grabbing my mum’s cigarettes,” you told him with a sigh. “She sends me out every week to pick some up.”

At the time, you had no clue why Tommy had followed you all the way to the shop and then walked you home. He never gave you any inclination either. Then, he did the same the next week. He came outside when you passed his house and you walked together. This occurred every week after the first.

Of course, you assumed this meant he liked you and this caused you to revel in the attention just a little. Tommy would talk to you about school and horses mostly, he was kind to you.

About six months after you and Tommy had developed this weekly routine, you mentioned something to your brother about it and he teased you about having a crush on Tommy. Making the mistake of saying he must’ve liked you back if he continued to walk along with you, Joseph was quite cruel in return.

“He doesn’t do it because he likes to,” Joseph laughed. “Father started pestering me to walk with you when he found out you were being picked on in school, bothered and such by the boys around. I started to give Tommy a bit of my allowance to walk with you so dad would finally get off my fucking back.”

You no longer walked to the shops on Wednesdays.

Tommy waited for you the next week, but you never left out front and began past his house. The week after, he did the same and you still did not come.

“Y/N!” Your mother’s voice came up the staircase on Thursday morning. “Come to the door.”

Tommy stood there in the walkway to your home, talking with your mother about something as you came down the steps. She left you to walk outside together and down the stairs into the street.

“You’re not getting your mum’s cigarettes anymore?” He asked you suddenly.

“No, I am,” you told him. “Just don’t want to walk with you anymore.”

He seemed taken aback by this, not used to the idea of you sticking your nose up at him and looking the other way when he tried to talk to you. Tommy knew you were smitten with him, he didn’t mind it. He thought you were nice enough, he liked to walk with you every week. He just didn’t see you the same way that you saw him, you were too young and too curious about certain things.

“Why’s that?” He shot back a little annoyed.

“Joey told me that he’s been paying you to do it, to make sure nobody messes with me.”

“And?” Tommy asked. “Doesn’t really fuckin’ matter if you ask me, whether he’s payin’ me or not.”

This made you roll your eyes, shaking your head at him and leaning against the brick of one of the alleyways you walked down. Tommy was confused as to why this bothered you so much, truthfully it didn’t really matter about the money to him. It helped him to buy cigarettes, that was all. He didn’t mind walking along with you, though. He would’ve done it without the payout.

“It matters to me,” you told him. “I don’t need looking after or anything like that.”

Turning on your heel, you thought that you’d been able to get the last word. Little did you know, nobody but Tommy got the last word. He only realized you had decided to go out on Saturdays, rather than Wednesdays. He told Joseph that he wouldn’t be requiring payment anymore and you walked in silence for over a month before you spoke to him on your walks again.

His stubbornness irked you, leaving you infuriatingly mad at his inability to leave you alone. Your cheeks went hot when he came around, stomach in knots whenever he would say your name.

Over the years, you had tried to shake your feelings for Tommy. This was mostly due to the fact that you had grown attached in a way that allowed you to call him a friend. By the time you were eleven, Tommy had taught you how to ride his horse. He spent an entire summer working with you. He was fifteen and definitely had plenty of better things to do, but he spent hours upon hours in the grueling sun with you.

“Tommy,” you said, laying sprawled out on a patch of grass one afternoon when you were thirteen and he was seventeen. “D’you want to come ‘round to mine for supper tonight? Mum asked me to invite you over.”

The last bit was a lie, you truly just wanted Tommy to join you. He inhaled shortly before propping himself up on his hand and looking over at you.

“Can’t tonight, m’sorry,” he apologized to you.

“Why not?” You asked curiously, assuming he’d saying something about having to be with his brothers or Polly.

“I’ve actually asked a girl out,” he confessed to you. “I’m planning to take her out tonight.”

This was one of the few times Tommy discussed his love life with you. Your friendship mostly consisted of doing other things, less intrusive things. He still really saw you as a younger sister type of figure in a way. He thoroughly enjoyed your company, but there was no denying his attraction to the girls he saw in school.

Once, Tommy told you about Arthur bringing home a prostitute. He didn’t tell you why he did it, or what they did. Only laughed it off, unbeknownst to him that you really didn’t know what a prostitute was. Joseph had called them whores, but you lived a rather sheltered lifestyle and none of the older people around you ever spoke about such things in front of you.

Tommy took girls out, he’d had several girlfriends as you approached your later teenage years. Your friendship, however, never faltered. When you were seventeen years old, you remember going out riding with him and telling him how you wanted to make something of yourself beyond what Small Heath had to offer. Planning to become a schoolteacher, Tommy had always admired this about you.

“Don’t you want to be something other than all this?” You asked him, alluding to the fact that he was growing more and more responsible for the Peaky Blinders. “I mean, I just wondered if you ever had other dreams.”

“I’d like to work with horses,” he told you quietly, running his hands over the mare’s mane.

“Why don’t you?” You questioned him. “I know you feel some sense of responsibility over your family, I think it’s one of your best traits. Don’t you ever want to just—I don’t know, live a less tormenting life?”

Tommy played with the reins, looking at you and shrugging. This was all he’d ever known, and all he would ever know. There was no Birmingham without Tommy Shelby, you knew it as well as anyone. It still hurt, though. Knowing he was playing with fire every day, testing God, as your mother had called it.

Once Tommy had grown more involved in the gang, your parents no longer allowed him to come over to the house. They detested you seeing him at all, your brother most of all. He settled quickly, marrying a woman and starting a family.

Tommy realized he loved you when he was twenty two years old. He’d known you for ten years, having called you his best friend for a decade. You were eighteen years old and had just begun training to become a teacher, you were commuting frequently and saw Tommy less and less.

It was that Christmas when you’d introduced him to the man you had been courting, his name was Michael. When he shook the man’s hand, Tommy felt something inside of him shift. Suddenly, you were no longer that little girl with scuffed shoes and long pigtails. He saw a young woman with ambition and heart, but you were no longer holding out for Tommy like you had for nearly ten years.

“The fuck is wrong with you?” Arthur came up and clapped Tommy on the back of the shoulder. “S’fucking Christmas and you’re really bringing my spirits down.”

Tommy said nothing, downing more whiskey as he watched Michael spin you around in a dance. You were in a fit of laughter, smiling at him adoringly.

“Be serious, brother,” Arthur sighed, drunk and wondering how Tommy could truly be as he was. “You can’t tell me that you’re sitting over here in the corner drinking away your sorrows because she’s brought along some bloke.”

“Fuck off, won’t you?” Tommy shot him a look.

“Unbelievable,” Arthur walked away laughing.

It was completely and utterly unbelievable, not only to Arthur, but to Tommy as well. He’d spent years with you, practically praying that you would find someone, anyone to avert your feelings too. As you grew older, you also were able to hide your feelings and emotions better in Tommy’s case.

He watched you the entire night, nodding a farewell when he noticed you trying to approach him. He had no intention of speaking to Michael again, for fear that he may be physically ill.

His hope that it was a passing courtship died with what looked to be your close friendship. The two of you hardly saw each other anymore, animosity forming between you after the night of the Christmas party.

Months later, Tommy found himself at your apartment door when Ada had told him that you mentioned thinking Michael was planning to propose. He left to see you after midnight, walking the entire distance to where you lived and putting himself at your front door well past one in the morning.

“Y/N,” he called out as he knocked. “It’s Tommy.”

Opening the door, you were only left in your nightdress. Your hair was down completely, something Tommy had not seen since you were some years younger. He could not help but to notice the sheer material of the fabric, the buds of your nipples showing through.

“Tommy?” You yawned. “What’re you doing here?”

“I needed to talk to you,” he told you.

“Now? It’s the middle of the night.”

Ushering him in, you let him shut the door behind him and tried to rub the sleep out of your eyes. Tommy felt himself growing hard, looking at you in such a state.

“Y/N, don’t marry him,” Tommy blurted out in almost a whisper.

“What?” You looked at him, shocked. “What did you say?”

“Don’t marry him, don’t marry Michael.”

There was a stillness to the room, a silence that made you almost sick. His face was somehow stoic, but pleading at the same time. His eyes bored into your own, as if they were making it impossible to get a word out.

“He is a good man, Tommy,” you said. “He wants to take care of me, to make me happy.”

“With plenty of money and security, with a practical occupation and a good legacy to leave your children?” Tommy asked, sarcasm incredibly evident.

“Yes, Tommy. Fuck, I mean is that what you want me to say? That he can give me a good life? Why should it matter if he’s got money?”

“It shouldn’t, not if you love him,” Tommy told you. “Do you?”

It felt as if you were eight years old again, confronting Tommy about why he was walking with you in the first place. He looked at you with such yearning, such longing. It was as if he was begging you not to say yes, pleading with you not to have already devoted your heart to this man.

There was only one truth of the matter. Thomas Shelby was the only man that you had ever loved.

“Tommy, I have only ever loved you since I was eight years old,” you whispered.

As if unable to hold back any longer, Tommy embraced you fully and brought you into his arms. He kissed you furiously, without any doubt or question that you were meant for him. He let his hands run up and down your back and pulled you into his body.

Before you gave into your urge to let him rip your sheer nightdress off of you, you pulled away with swollen lips and eyes full of desire. This was not right, not until you spoke to Michael. Regardless of how you felt for Tommy, you could not do this to Michael.

“Not yet,” you whispered. “I gave a man my word, I need to speak to him before I can go any further here.”

Tommy respected your choice, he knew you wouldn’t want disloyalty on your conscience. He just nodded his head and placed a hand on your cheek gently, it was in these moments that he forgot about everything else.

Michael didn’t take the news very well at all, his ego was bruised and he pleaded for you to reconsider. He told you how deeply he loved you and how you had led him on, making him believe that you two would have a life together. He was right, you had encouraged him in all of his dreams of your future and you had done it without ever considering how it may end. It was selfish.

It took you weeks before you agreed to see Tommy again after Michael had left you feeling so guilty. Nights of tireless sleep, you would look up at the sky and pray to god that you were making the right decisions.

Over a year into your training, you would soon be able to do what you’d always dreamt of. Dark times approached, though. There were ghosts of whispers at every street corner, they spoke of war so feverishly. It was as if death was due to knock at the doors of families, stripping women of their husbands and children of their fathers.

The thought of this had left Tommy quite stoic most of the time, he held a monotonous view on the entire matter. Every time you had brought it up to him, he told you how he would be expected to fight on behalf of his country if it came down to it.

And so he did, when it came down to it and Britain had joined the War—The Shelby brothers and hundreds of other men in Small Heath joined as well.

“Tommy,” I sniffled as I watched him from across his bedroom pack a small bag of things. “I need you to promise me that you’ll come home, that you won’t die out there. They’re saying things about trench warfare, it’s all really terrifying—”

Tommy crossed the room and took your face in his hands, kissing you hard on the lips, as if it was the last time he would ever do so. A piece of you wondered if he believed that he would die out there.

“Please come home,” you breathed.

“I will come home,” he kissed you again. “I promise you.”

You planned to hold him to this promise. Having waited ten years for Tommy Shelby, you would wait however long more so long as he would come home to you.

It took two months before his first letter would come after you watched him depart on that large ship. Long months of kneeling at the foot of your bed, begging god not to take Tommy. Everything that was being said about the war was absolutely tragic, soldiers being blown to pieces or rotting below the earth in the trenches.

My Dearest Y/N,

I wish I was able to write to you sooner, I cannot say where I am for the risk of interception. Just know that I have never been in such conditions in my life, I spend my days underground. I have taken the role of a tunneler. Trench warfare has not been good to any of us, I find myself fantasizing of the end of this long hell.

I stare at your picture every night before I shut my eyes, dreaming of what it would be like beside you. There is no greater sorrow to me than your absence from my life at this point in time. I can only hope that it will not be for long.

Not long ago, myself and a group of men were gassed. I watched a fellow soldier go blind for nearly three days before he finally came out of it, only with some permanent damage. There are times when I have thought to myself, ‘Perhaps if I was hit, it would not be so bad. Perhaps even death is better than fighting in this war’.

Then I think of you. I think of the promises I made to you before I left to fight in this god awful war. I cannot understand how men are expected to live like this, nor how we will continue on. I was up to my knees in water last week, the trenches dark and desolate as we waited for the storm to pass. There is so much waiting these days.

I look forward to your letter.

With all of my love,

Tommy Shelby

#elle’s fics #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby imagines #tommy shelby x y/n #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby imagines #cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader

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mapiforpresident · 7 months

Note

Can I request prompt no 20 with arsenal women team(platonic ), reader and Kyra mischievous as usual but suddenly gets hurt and lia and steph having to take them to doctor

"Ow Kyra"

arsenal x reader

warnings: injury, blood, stitches

You and Kyra Cooney-Cross, two peas in a pod, were notorious troublemakers within the Arsenal Women's Football Team. You were both Australian and joined Arsenal at the same time. You were a year younger than Kyra, which you used to your advantage when Steph said she should be the more responsible one. From harmless pranks to playful banter, you two were always at the center of mischief, much to the amusement (and occasional exasperation) of your older teammates.

The dynamic between you and Kyra was one of camaraderie and playful rivalry. Both of you shared a love for the game and a mischievous spirit that often led to antics both on and off the pitch. Whether it was sneaking extra snacks from the team's stash or pulling pranks during training sessions, you were always in cahoots, causing chaos wherever you went. Some of your favorite pass times included poking Steph and nutmegging Viv.

Your antics were endearingly annoying to the older players, who often found themselves on the receiving end of your playful teasing. But despite the occasional scolding, they couldn't help but smile at the youthful exuberance and infectious energy you brought to the team.

Today, during a routine round of mischief, disaster struck. As you and Kyra engaged in a spirited game of keep-away with Caitlin's water bottle, you stumbled over your own feet and collided with a nearby equipment rack. The impact sent you sprawling to the ground, a sharp pain shooting through your head as you made contact with the unforgiving surface.

"Oi, watch it, you two!" Beth Mead, called out from where she almost ran into you while doing a drill with Leah.

But as you attempted to push yourself up from the ground, you felt a warm trickle of blood run down the side of your face, and suddenly, the world around you blurred into a haze of pain and confusion.

"Y/N, are you alright?" Kyra's voice cut through the fog, her concern evident, although she was also holding back a laugh, as she knelt beside you. After you didn't respond right away she called out, "I think y/n broke her skull."

"What," came Lia's voice as she was immediately by your side turning you over to asses the wound. "She's not broken her skull you idiot, just might need a couple stitches. How did she even manage to hit her head on that."

"I swear we weren't doing anything dangerous this time, she's just clumsy and tripped. Must have spent too much time with Less again," Kyra replied while you were grumbling and moaning in pain on the ground.

"Kyra, give me your shirt," Steph said as she appeared on your other side. Kyra knew not to argue with Steph when she gave her that glare and handed over her training top which Steph immediately applied to the wound.

"The trainers are all inside helping the girls in the gym, so I think it's best if we just take her right to the ER," Lia said as she was talking to Steph.

As Lia and Steph helped you sit up, you couldn't shake off the throbbing pain in your head. With Kyra hovering anxiously beside you, you tried to muster a smile to reassure her, but the pain made it difficult to focus on anything else.

"Sorry, guys," you muttered, feeling a pang of guilt for causing such a fuss.

"Don't worry about it, y/n," Lia said, her voice calm and reassuring. She was like your team mom and you were really grateful for her in this moment. "Accidents happen."

Steph nodded in agreement, her expression serious as she gently guided you to your feet. "Let's get you to the hospital and get that looked at, yeah?"

With Lia and Steph's support, you managed to stand, albeit unsteadily. The world still felt like it was spinning, and the pain in your head seemed to intensify with each passing moment. But you were determined not to let it show, not wanting to worry your teammates any further.

You got into the back of Lia's car with Steph sitting in the back with you continuing to hold the shirt against the wound, hoping you don't loose top much blood and pass out. Lia drove as fast as she could in the London traffic to get you to the hospital. Kyra brought a wheelchair to help you in since you were still really dizzy.

Once in a room they immediately gave you pain meds, making you a little loopy. "Will you sit me with me Lia," you whispered to the girl next to you as you were starting to get sleepy.

"Of course, and try to stay awake the doctor will be here in a minute to give you your stitches."

As the doctor arrived to administer the stitches, you tried your best to stay awake, the pain meds making you feel drowsy and disoriented. Kyra's laughter echoed in the background as she recorded the whole scene, her playful teasing providing a brief moment of levity amidst the chaos.

"I'm going to have a badass scar. The chicks are going to dig it," you mumbled sleepily, a faint smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

Lia chuckled softly, her hand resting reassuringly on your arm. "You're going to be just fine, y/n. And besides, scars are just proof that you're a tough little warrior."

As the doctor finished the stitches and the pain meds began to take effect, you felt yourself drifting off into a peaceful slumber, safe in the knowledge that you were surrounded by friends who cared for you deeply.

#kyra cooney cross #lia walti #lia walti x reader #lia wälti x reader #woso x reader #woso #arsenal women #arsenal #leah williamson #beth mead #kyra cooney cross x reader #matildas #steph catley

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bonesandchalamet · 9 months

Text

in this world, it’s just us — Finnick odair

masterlist | pairing: Finnick odair x reader

summary: in a world where hunger games don’t exist anymore it’s just you and Finnick

warnings: fluff

a/n: finally writing for finnick 🤭

you can hear his breath escape his lips, it’s faint, but it’s all that matters. he’s alive in your arms and in your bedroom.

nights were never the same, consisting of some form of him muttering incoherent words, legs thrashing, and thick sweat glistening against the sheets. the hunger games haunt him, even in a world where he’s safe.

there’s no president snow, there’s no more kids being hunted by others. the odds were in everyone’s favor, and people could sleep well again. except those in their respected districts victors villages.

the soft grunt that escapes his lips indicates he’s awake now. he rolls carefully onto his side, almost like he doesn’t want wake you, but you’ve been awake for some time. reflecting on what the nights could’ve been if finnick never was picked at such a young age.

“you’re doing it again.” he mutters, you feel him shift closer to you, his warm clammy skin pressed against yours, “you’re thinking about the if’s.”

he tsk’s you, and yanks the covers off your bodies to reveal the cool air of the house. it feels nice, after tossing and turning in the heat trapped sheets, you allow yourself to stretch out against the mattress and watch finnick rise for the day.

no day was ever the same, but finnick needed a new task everyday, or else he’d go insane. he needed to occupy himself from the loss and maybe even the ache. you never knew, he was a closed book about his experiences.

you watch him gather around to fish, a typical morning routine despite the overflowing amount of food in your house. you never objected or asked him not to go, it was the one thing finnick enjoyed and he could now do so freely. who were you to stop him?

“can I join you?” the words slip your mouth without a second guess, and he’s stopping in his tracks. you’ve never taken up much of an interest in fishing, not since you didn’t have to do so anymore, but you loathed sitting around waiting for him to return. plus, it gave you something to do as well.

“you better hurry.”

scurrying out of bed, you find yourself rushing with the sunrise and finnicks personal clock, but by the time you’re down by the water, no one else is even there and the sun is just starting to rise.

“what’s the plan?” you ask, turning to face him he’s got a trident in his hand, his typical choice of weapon that somehow made it back to district four along with him.

“we hunt, we go home, and then we eat.” he says offering a small smile before moving carefully and slowly into the water. he moves with such precision, careful not to alarm the fish. any movement and they’ll scatter along. you watch him hunt for awhile until it’s your turn, you don’t come up as lucky as he does, but he still applauds the three fish you killed.

“now we eat and save some for dinner.” he smiles, content with the couple hours of work done. without telling, it’s most likely noon and your stomach was reminding you of the lack of food in your stomach.

the hike home doesn’t take long and Finnick is cooking while you shower. the warm water trickles down your back, soothing away the morning worries. you take longer than you normally do, just to enjoy the silence your mind finally gives you before turning off the water.

emerging from the shower, he’s leaning in the doorway. a cocky smile against his lips that if it weren’t for his beauty, you’d attempt anyway to erase it.

“you think about me in there?”

“never in a million years would I think about you in my shower.” you pick up a soft towel, running the fabric all across your body and through the ends of your hair. out the corner of your eye, you can still see that smile. the smile that every girl falls for when finnick would enter a room. he’s easy to like, bright eyes, beautiful smile, golden blond hair, and an ego so big sometimes it’s adorable, other times? not so much.

“you’re awful at lying. it’s actually one of your worst traits.”

“and you’ve got an awfully big ego, it’s one of your worst traits.” you fire back with a smile on your face leaving him to roll his eyes and tell you lunch was waiting for you.

In this world, it's just us

You know it's not the same as it was

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ovaryacted · 7 months

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CANDY HEARTS

PAIRING: RE2!Leon x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS: It was Valentine's Day at the precinct and everyone was giving out candy grams for their secret admirers. Who knew that one piece of candy would have so much of an impact?

CONTENT/WARNINGS: FLUFF. Mutual pining. Alcohol consumption. One kiss. Flirting and confessions at the end. Canon-adjacent. Modernized era (they have cell phones). The og gang is together and are all above the age of 21. Leon being silly and not knowing about social cues. Chris plays matchmaker & Claire is a jokester. Jill likes margaritas and Rebecca is the mom of the group. They are all friends and live happily ever after cause I said so.

WC: 3.7k

NOTES: I am back from the dead, and I come bearing gifts. This was just something I wanted to write for Valentine's Day, and I don't even know how the idea came along the entire way. Here’s some nice fluffy stuff with a bit of added corniness, something new from me. Hope you all enjoy and like it! Comments, likes, and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

✰ ── 《 Navigation ⟡ Main Masterlist ⟡ AO3 》

February, supposedly the month when red and pink mesh together to signify the one thing that couldn’t be explained. Love. Romance. Companionship.

It was a silly thing really, something that Leon didn’t understand, mostly because to him, it couldn’t be real. That didn’t mean he wasn’t curious, that he always wondered what it would be like to be so attached to another person it felt like being two parts of one whole.

It was another full week of the month, the days passing by as quickly as they started. Another day, another patrol, that was what he knew as part of his routine. Heading toward his locker to grab his gear, he was surprised to see a small heart-shaped lollipop wrapped in a red bow. He raised a brow at the strange object, curious fingers reaching out to inspect it closer.

“What do you have there?”

His head turned to the side at the sound of your voice, more so feeling your breath on his neck as you peered over his shoulder. Holding up the red lollipop for you to study, you took it from his grasp, the very tips of your fingers barely touching his before you held the wrapped candy.

“Leon, do you even know what this is?”, your eyes held that same mischievous gleam it always did when you were with him, and simply gave you a shrug. “It’s a candy gram silly”

“What? Someone just put a lollipop in my locker?”, Leon didn’t get why someone would even bother putting something like this for him to find.

“It’s for Valentine’s Day, something that the precinct wanted to do to celebrate. If you get one of these, it means someone is your secret admirer”, the way you described the entire ploy was almost comical to him, and he only chuckled.

“So it’s like a crush type of thing?”

“Sort of. Did you even read the note?”, and from the way he looked like a deer in headlights you knew he didn’t. You motioned over to the small red note that was hidden underneath the piece of candy. Carefully, he went to unfold it and read over the words that were written in cursive black ink.

I can’t turn water into wine, but I’m hoping to turn you into mine.

You watched as Leon quickly became flustered at the funny pick-up line, rolling his eyes and trying to hide the subtle blush he got from reading the words over and over again.

“I don’t like this game”, Leon grumbled under his breath, trying to shake off his embarrassment and scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Oh cmon, it’s supposed to be funny. But listen, if you don’t want your lollipop I’ll gladly take it”, you smirked as his eyes met yours, pink lips curling up to match your grin.

“What? You didn’t get any candy grams of your own so you have to steal mine?”, he unwrapped the lollipop, popping it into his mouth and humming as he approved the taste. Cherry, his favorite.

“For your information, I got three. I just munched on all of the candies already I wanted another”, you placed your hands on your hips, the uniform only accentuating the curvature of your figure that Leon tried his hardest not to notice.

“Really? You got notes too or were you too busy eating your lollipops you forgot to notice”, he was teasing you now, going into his locker to put on his tactical belt and wrapping it around his hips. It fit snugly on his body, the leather belt he wore underneath to hold up his cargo pants seemed to add to his slim figure. Not that you were paying attention either.

“I did, but didn’t pay too much attention. I got a nice one though, said something like My candy heart is all yours. Real cute stuff”, you leaned against the wall as you waited for Leon before going on patrol. He was one of the only good things working at the R.P.D. had to offer, and coincidentally it just helped that he was also your friend. Having known each other for a while now, being like this came naturally, remembering how easy it was to be with him when you two first clicked.

“Sounds corny”, he said with a shake of his head, closing the metallic door and gesturing the both of you to start walking out of the room and into the main hall.

“Yeah, you’d know everything about being corny wouldn’t you?”, you taunted him back as you walked through the halls of the precinct, keeping track of all the patrols you had on the board today.

“Yeah yeah, whatever. Are you coming on this patrol with me or what?”, he already knew the answer, didn’t have to so much as second guess to know that you’d be riding along with him.

“Of course I am. Who else will bother you with their favorite pop songs?”, you walked ahead of him, and his gaze went down your back to look at the handcuffs that jingled every time you took a step.

He definitely wasn’t looking at anything else.

It was a long day of work patrolling the city before Leon finally had some time to himself to relax. Thankfully, he didn’t have to work the overnight shift and could lounge at home to watch some shitty reality TV or whatever tickled his fancy. Of course, that was before he got a text message from you, ever the pest constantly wondering what he was up to. Not that he complained.

There’s a whole theme night going on at the local bar. Free shots at 10:30 pm. Bring your ass over here, and wear red!

Drinks? With you? That wasn’t anything out of the ordinary considering how familiar it felt to be around you, but he still couldn’t think of anything else he wanted to do for the night. So, he pretended like he didn’t want to be dragged out of his small apartment as he trudged his feet toward the shower to get dressed. He shouldn’t have cared so much about being presentable, usually, he never did. But for you, he was willing to try new things.

For the first time in probably ever, he’s forgone his usual color palette and took out a red button-down, rolling the sleeves up towards his forearms. Leon was always more fond of shades that reminded him of the sky, blues, greens, and white. Red was out of his comfort zone, but going out on Valentine’s Day night was enough to make that ball of anxiety tighten in his gut. Topping it all off with a bomber jacket, he left the keys to his jeep behind and took a cab instead, playing it safe if he ended up drinking something that would surely knock him off his feet.

He seemed to be counting down the minutes to the moment he walked into the bar. Scanning the area, he looked for any sight of you amongst the crowd, walking past several pairs of people lip-locking and downing shots in groups. The energy was electric, the music was lively, and as he continued to trek further into the bar that’s when he spotted you.

There you were, sporting a red deep-cut blouse and leather pants that were tight along your thighs. He caught the glossy red lipstick you put on for the occasion that only brightened your teeth as you laughed with those around you. And when you turned your head to find him standing there, he gulped down the pang he felt in his chest.

Yeah. He’s screwed.

“Finally, I’ve been waiting for you for so damn long. Good to know you listened to me for once”, you walked up to him, grabbed a hold of his wrist, and pulled him toward a corner of the bar where your other friends were sitting. Unless you cared to look for it, his pulse spiked when your fingers wrapped around his wrist. Maybe you felt it, maybe you didn’t, but that brief touch was cut short when Leon was brought to the table.

Most of the newfound gang was there, Chris and his sister Claire were there sharing a beer, while Rebecca was forcing Jill to be a bit more social. It was supposedly a normal night even though you were out of your uniform, forcing Leon to find a point on the wall to avoid peeking over in your direction. Chris kept him occupied, offering him a drink that he sipped to ease the nerves he felt, all while Claire teased him about wearing red instead of his usual navy. This wasn’t so bad, I’ll make it through the night, he thought to himself.

It only took a few drinks for everything to spiral out of control. The blame is to be put on tequila. It was always tequila, but thank god it was the weekend.

Just like you warned him, 10:30 pm rolled around and the bar burst into cheers as servers carried shot glasses filled with red liquid. Everyone at the table had one, and Leon watched as you downed the shot with ease, a wild grin on your face as you did. With your encouragement, and Claire’s taunting, he drank the shot and winced at the stinging of the liquid going down his throat. He hated taking shots, that you knew, but he’d do it so long as it made you happy.

This is why you leave the clear liquor to me and you stick to your beer. He remembered hearing you say that to him one night when you made him drink vodka, the raging hangover he got in the morning only further proved your point.

He’s lost count of the number of shots you consumed, splitting them between Jill and Claire, and an extra you forced Chris to take despite him sticking to his beer. Rebecca remained as the group chaperone, making sure nobody did anything too embarrassing tonight. Hearing a particular song that brightened your mood, you brought Claire towards the middle aisle where others seemed to follow you to dance in the small space.

Propping his elbow up against the wooden table, Leon leaned back to simply watch you move to the music. His whole body felt warm at the sight, seeing how you swayed your hips to the beat of the song and Claire did the same. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, his eyes ran up the stitching of your leather pants, over the deep v-line cut of your blouse, and again towards your face. Sure, you were attractive, he wasn’t blind. But what he was the most fond of was your smile, all cheery and wide to the point where the corners of your eyes crinkled.

He could see that look all the time and never get sick of it. The only thing he’d change was that he was the reason why you beamed like that.

“You’re doing it again”, Chris said out loud with a smirk, knocking Leon out of his little fantasy before meeting eye to eye again.

“I’m not doing anything”, he challenged in denial, Chris only chortled and shook his head.

“Unless you’re watching Claire dance, you know exactly what you’re doing”, the brunette matched his sister in humor, Leon exasperating in disbelief and took another sip of his beer. “You like her. You should do something about it”

“Chris…”

“C’mon, man. How much longer are you going to stand on the sidelines and just watch? Even I’m getting tired of the tension, it’s killing me”, ever the dramatic man, he wrapped a thick arm around Leon’s shoulder, bringing him in closer as if he were telling him a secret.

“You had a chance with the candy grams you realize that right? Sure, free candy but why not make it special?”

“Who says I didn’t do just that?”, the blonde said before it could be filtered out properly, sighing and downing the rest of his bottle.

“You’re joking. Seriously? She got like three of those things”, Chris’s brown eyes widened the slightest bit, not wanting to believe the truth.

“Does it look like I’m laughing right now?”, Leon chuckled incredulously at the realization that these feelings he’d been harboring for so long were starting to pour out of him the more he drank. “I don’t know how to talk to her. Besides, it doesn’t matter anyway, she’s not into me”

“Leon, you must be an idiot or something because she is into you. Who do you think gave you the candy gram?”, Chris muttered, probably not meaning to say it the way he did but it sounded like a confession.

Leon didn’t have time to ask for more details when you came back to the table on his side, an energetic Claire going towards Jill who was down three margaritas and growing sleepy. He could practically smell the perfume off of you, jasmine and soft vanilla, things that he found comfort in and sought after through his day-to-day.

“I think that’s enough dancing for me, I got dizzy”, you said, finishing the last bit of your watered-down drink and slamming the glass down on the table. From the way you were standing, your body almost leaned against Leon’s, ever inching closer toward him.

“Do you want to leave?”, Leon asked you, ever the concerned friend and partner despite the fact the alcohol was starting to get to him too.

“Nah, I’ll stay a little bit. Do you want to go?”, the way your eyes were hazy when you spoke to him brought that same twitch in his chest he usually ignored when he was around you.

“If you’re good, then I’m good. I’m not leaving without you”, he didn’t mean to say it in a different context outside of friendly, or maybe he did, but when he avoided a visceral reaction from you he figured he was in the clear.

“You got it boss”, you joked with him, but your hand lightly skimmed against his by accident, a shock running through you from the light touch. You didn’t meet his eye, instead, you felt the way his pinkie came closer to your own, discreetly curling around the digit.

It was a shy touch as if to gently test the boundaries of what was other than a cordial relationship. Leon started to grow anxious, thinking maybe he messed up, his mind beginning to spiral until you squeezed his finger back in silence. He tried not to make it obvious, but he looked over at you to see you smiling, and for that second he thought his small dream had come true.

“Another drink and then we’ll call it quits”, Chris’ voice popped the bubble that you were both in, but your hands didn’t move from where they were.

Yeah, one more drink couldn’t hurt, so long as you two remained like this for the rest of the night.

Leon regrets having that one last drink. The world around him was spinning, and his feet were lugging across the floor as if he was going to sink into the Earth any minute now. He nearly forgot that he wasn’t going home alone, that you were beside him, doing your best to support his body as you brought him over to your place like you had done a few times before.

Unlocking the door to your apartment and walking inside, Leon was hit with the same scent of jasmine and soft vanilla that he recognized as your own, faint layers of cinnamon engulfing him when you brought him over to your couch in a slump.

“I’m never letting you drink that much again”, your voice sounded almost distant, but it was comforting nonetheless. You walked away from him, your footsteps growing faint until you came back with a glass of water he graciously chugged.

“Wasn’t so bad, I can handle my liquor”, he slouched further into your couch, his head beginning to whirl from everything he drank.

“Leon, I had to carry you inside. You’re drunk”, you glanced at him with that same mischievousness you always had reserved just for him. Even if you had a better alcohol tolerance than he did, your pupils being dilated told him that you were in the same predicament

“Not complaining”, he was damn near mumbling now, his head pivoting to look at you fully. You were right there next to him, all dolled up in a way he hadn’t seen before. In the back of his mind, he imagined you did it just for him.

So pretty.

“You think so?”, your voice brought him out of his current haze, watching as he blinked once or twice before realizing he said his inner thoughts out loud.

“I-I…huh?”, Leon was stuttering now, looking towards the floor and growing embarrassed at the slip-up. You couldn’t help but giggle under your breath, and he prayed to God it wasn’t at him.

“Leon…I don’t know if you can tell but I’ve been trying to send you signals that I like you for months now. You’re a tough nut to crack”, you were speaking, but your words stopped filtering through his brain the moment you said the words ‘I like you’.

You like me?

“Yes, you cornball, I do”, you answered him anyway, catching him off guard at the response. At this rate, he’ll spill his deepest darkest secrets because he can’t tell the difference between what he’s thinking and what he’s saying. “The candy gram, that was me. Thought it might register in your head but it didn’t”

Leon looked like he had uncovered the biggest truth known to man. It was astonishing to witness, how he couldn’t process the thought that you were actually interested in him. You could see the gears starting to turn in his head, and once the revelation settled in his mind his lips were formed in a gentle smile.

“That was a really bad pick-up line”, Leon said, making you laugh even harder. Your hand made contact with his chest, patting against his body with every sound that slipped past you.

“And yours was any better?”, your hand didn’t move from where it sat on his chest, mindlessly caressing the material of his red button-down.

“Yeah, I think ‘my candy heart is all yours’ is one of my best works”, he was almost cocky when he talked, but his facial expression was anything short of dorky. You both looked like a bunch of love-drunk idiots waiting for one to say what the other wanted to hear.

“Hmm, that sounded like you. Is this you admitting that you gave me that candy gram?”, you were leaning on him, shifting so your body was closer against his. The tequila still running through your system heightened your senses, the natural scent of Leon’s cologne was enough to make your heart flutter.

“Something like that”, he grinned bashfully, blue eyes looking at you intensely. He took in every detail of your features he could get, moving some of your hair out of your face and curling it behind your ear. His hand didn’t move too far, resting his palm against your cheek and running his thumb against the warmth of your skin.

“Would it be bad to kiss you?”, he whispered his words to you, as if his feelings would only be safe in the four walls of this room.

“No, I’ve been waiting for you to ask me”, you moved so your chest was pressed against his, hands moving up towards his neck and caressing the hair at his nape.

Leon didn’t have to wait too long to feel your lips meshing with his, sighing in what he could only describe as pure satisfaction. A shiver rushed down his spine and broke off into the rest of his body, blood pulsing through his veins at rapid speed the more his heart pumped in his chest. He pressed your body against him, wrapping an arm around your waist and keeping his other hand on your cheek.

Leon felt drunk, both literally and figuratively off of you and everything that you were. Things made sense for the first time, having you like this here with him. It was all he wanted, all he needed, and he doesn’t think he’ll ever get enough. Against his wishes, he pulled away for air, staying close by to rest his forehead against yours.

“About damn time Kennedy”, you teased him again, but your expression was tender. You noticed how your red lipstick stained his lips, no doubt leaving barely any left on your mouth. “Red looks good on you”, you put a thumb against his lips, rubbing at the plush skin you just felt for the first time.

“Does this mean I get to ask you to be my Valentine?”, he looked so cute when he asked you, rolling your eyes at his question, but you found it endearing.

“You’re two hours too late, but I’ll happily be your Valentine anyway”, you gave him one more smooch on the lips, and the happiness on his face was damn near palpable. “But you owe me a better one next time, you hear me?”

Next time.

“Loud and clear. I’ll have a better pick-up line to use on you”

“If you start getting corny, I will leave you on the couch”, the playful threat didn’t worry Leon in the slightest, his smile getting wider with every passing second he spent with you.

“Awe come on, I meant what I said. My candy heart is all yours”, his nose nuzzled into your neck, kissing your soft ticklish skin and breathing you in, marking your scent into his memory.

This time around, he thinks he’ll thank the tequila instead. Perhaps Cupid is real, a little overdue, but he still got the job done in the end.

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