#and it kind of makes a bit more sense for why he cut everyone off and isolated himself

[box-dwelling]

I know that how much Phoenix suspected Kristoph is very vague and I like the idea he had very little clue but honestly the thing that makes me think he did is Trucy. Because I think there is absolutely no way Kristoph didn't want her dead. He tried to kill vera, child murder isn't above him. And Trucy was a far far bigger weak chain in his scheme than she was but she escapes him basically unscathed other than minus one parent, who lets be real was canonically a POS who tried to kill a woman over a poker game. She saw him give her the diary page. She has psychic lie defecting abilities and he is constantly lying. She's absolutely the biggest direct threat to his scheme.

I feel like if Phoenix genuinely trusted Kristoph he would have absolutely had the opportunity to kill her and tie up that loose end. Trucy's savvy and able to protect herself but she's also a child. It is a miracle she's still alive by AA4 and I think that has to be because Phoenix was protecting her because he knew he couldn't trust Kristoph around her.

[heart-of-the-morningstar]

✨Feathers✨

Hey hey hey, I’m back! Took a tiny break but I had another idea for a spicy Luci scenario! But this one is super tender cuz Luci needs some TLC like nobody's business! 🥺

This turned out a little more dom!reader then initially planned but I'm happy about it

Big thank you to some of the anons I received for the ideas! I very much appreciate everyone who's given anything I've written their love!

Lucifer x f!sinner reader

Summary: Lucifer's wings are not in the greatest shape, you offer to help clean them...

Warnings: 18+, smut, handjob, oral (m & f receiving), p in v, cockwarming, dom!reader and sub!lucifer if you squint

It had been a pretty quiet day in house. Lucifer was off with his daughter Charlie for the day, they’ve had quite a bit of father/daughter bonding to catch up on. But this gave you the chance to work on something that you’ve been wanting to make for some time now. It was a secret project, keeping things from Lucifer was harder than it seemed. But with the home to yourself, you were finally able to finish the gift you wanted to give him! Just as you were admiring your work, a portal opened up behind you; Lucifer was back! Quickly, you hid his gift under your pillow before he could see anything. Lucifer stepped through the portal and into your bedroom; you noticed his wings spread out behind him.

“Hi, honey,” you greeted as you walked over to him, planting a small peck on his forehead. He smiled, grabbing your hand and placing a kiss on it in return. “How was your day with Charlie?”

“It was really nice! We went for a little flight, as you can tell,” he laughed, gesturing to his wings. Lucifer’s wings always left you in awe, you couldn’t help but stare at them. But upon further inspection, you saw that they seemed a little worse for wear. You wondered when the last time they were properly taken care of, since you've never seen him actually do anything with them.

“Hey Luci, your wings are looking a little…” you hesitated, looking for the right word, “disheveled. Is everything alright?”

"Ahh," Lucifer sighed, "yeah, I uhh...I'll admit, I haven't paid them much attention. Not in a long while."

You knew that he had been by himself for a long time before you came along. He had mentioned his battles with self isolation and depression that he had fought against for years, but he was never too keen on going into more detail than necessary. Looking back, it would make sense as to why his wings are in the state that they are. It saddened you, you wished you could have been there for him. It was time to make up for that.

"How about this," you proposed, "why don't I run us a bath and I'll help you clean them up. How does that sound?"

"O-Oh, are you sure?," he questioned, failing to hide the fact that his cheeks were now flushed. "They're kind of a pain, I don't want you to-" you cut off his protests with a peck. You felt his lips curl into a smile.

"Nothing's a pain when it comes to you, Lucifer," you assured. "Go get ready and I'll see you in a few minutes, alright? Tonight, let me take care of you."

"Of course," he grinned, "thank you, my angel."

*** Lucifer saw you smile and make your way to the bathroom that was connected to your bedroom. As soon as the door closed, he let out a long sigh. It really had been years since he’s taken care of his wings. It was a lot easier when there was someone there to help. When Lilith left, it became a much more daunting task. He began to undo his button up shirt, tossing it onto the bed and moved on to undoing his belt. But suddenly, he stopped once the buckle had been unhooked. Shit, he thought to himself, realizing he’d forgotten how sensitive his wings were, my wings being touched are drive me insane! I don’t think I’ll be able to keep it together, especially not after years of just letting them go! He sucked in a few deep breaths and continued removing the belt from his pants. It’s fine, it’s fine…as long as I don’t make a noise or turn around. Just focus, Lucifer. For Satan’s sake, you’re the king of Hell!

Lucifer undid his zipper, letting his pants and boxers drop to the floor and kicking them off to the side. Unfortunately, he could already feel the blood rushing between his legs in anticipation. No, no, no!, he scolded himself, we’re not doing this. We’re getting our wings washed and we’re going to bed! I’m not letting this turn into anything other than a nice bath! She CANNOT think I’m just some touch starved pervert! I’m not! He inhaled deeply and ran his fingers through his hair, trying his best to calm down. After a minute, he made his way to the bathroom, placing his hand on the knob.

“I’m so fucked,” he whispered to himself before slowly opening the door.

*** It was fortunate that Lucifer had such a spacious home, that meant a more spacious bathroom as well. His bathtub could easily fit four people comfortably, but this at least gave you room to be able to work with his wings. You turned the water on to a nice warm temperature, making sure it wasn't too hot. You undressed as the bathtub began to fill, grabbing a soft washcloth from the closet and bubble bath soap after discarding your clothes. Once the tub was half full, you poured the soap in, letting it mix with the running water. The bubbles appeared fast, you couldn't see that water anymore after a few seconds. Finally, you brought the flow to a stop and dipped your toes in to test that waters. Perfect. You stepped in and slowly began to sink down into the warm liquid that heated your core. Lucky for you, his tub had seats along the sides so you could sit comfortably instead of sinking to the bottom! As soon as you were submerged just below your shoulders, you heard the bathroom door creaking behind you.

"Knock, knock!," Lucifer joked, hitting the already opened door with his knuckles. You chuckled as he closed the door behind him. Not that it was a new sight to you, but his naked figure never ceased to make you blush, as if he were perfectly sculpted. You shook your head, trying your best to focus on his face and not let your eyes wander anywhere else.

"Alright, let's see what we're working with," you stated, prompting Lucifer to conjure his wings once more. As you looked them over, you could tell it would take a little bit of time to clean them properly, but you were more than willing to help. You shifted over to the edge of the tub and offered Lucifer your hand. Smiling, he took hold as you guided him into the water with you. He sat down next you, turning his back so you could start working on his neglected feathers.

"Thank you for this," he spoke softly as you took the washcloth and began to work on his first set of wings. "I really don't deserve it, or you..."

"Luci, don't say that," you cut in, "I love you, and I want to help you. I'll always be here, I promise."

You heard him hum in response. He had a lot more feathers than you originally thought. You wanted to take your time, combing through every feather from his first set as they were the largest. You moved your attention down to his second set of wings after a few minutes. You were both quiet for a while as you continued your ministrations, running the washcloth thoroughly through each of his feathers, ridding them of any dirt. However, the sound of Lucifer's breathing becoming heavier with each passing minute did not go unnoticed by you. Wings were very sensitive areas after all. A tiny smile crept on your face. You had finally moved on to his last set of wings. They would be the easiest to take care of since they were the smallest, but you wanted to test your suspicions before you finished.

"Almost done," you hummed, "you doing alright?"

"YEAH, yeah," Lucifer answered almost too loudly, "I-I'm fine."

"That's good," you responded, gripping his feathers with just a little bit more force than necessary. You heard a small whimper escape Lucifer's throat, his hand shooting out of the water to cover his mouth. Bingo. "You sure you're alright, hon?"

"M-Mhmm," Lucifer mumbled into his palm.

"All clean," you purred, causing Lucifer's wings to disappear in a flash.

Lucifer stood up a little too fast trying to exit the tub, his back still towards you. "Thank you love, I really really appreciate you doing that for me, but I'm kind of tired so I'm gonna-" You didn't let him finish his sentence, grabbing onto his hips and pulling him into your lap, causing a large splash. "D-Darling, what are you doing?"

"And where do you think you're going?" you questioned, letting your hands run down his hips and towards his thighs. You heard Lucifer's breath hitch as your hands roamed dangerously close to his hard on. "What's the matter, baby? Were you hoping I wouldn't notice that you were getting turned on by all my touching? How cute."

You let your hand wander until you finally gripped his hardened cock. Lucifer could only let out a strangled yelp. All too pleased, you began to stroke his cock at an agonizingly slow pace. Lucifer tried to buck up at your touch, but your other arm was wrapped around his abdomen, keeping him flush to your chest. He wasn’t going anywhere.

“Now why would you try to hide this from me, Luci?,” you teased him as you began peppering kisses along the back of his neck.

“Hhng…I-I’m sorry, love,” he swallowed, “it…shit…it’s embarrassing. I shouldn’t h-have had that reaction while you were…ffffuuucckk…” He completely trailed off, only being able to focus on your movements. You had only picked up your pace slightly since you started, you wanted to make this last as long as possible. But unfortunately, you could feel your own arousal start to pulse between your legs. Without warning, you let go off his cock, causing to Lucifer to whimper at the loss of your hand. You swiftly stood up and hooked your arm under his legs, carrying him bridal style out of the tub. He looked up at you with a mixture of shock and arousal. Once you were fully out of the tub, you placed him onto the white marble floor.

"Stay," you commanded. Lucifer held his arms down at his sides, completely immobile. You sauntered over to the rack and grabbed the two fresh towels hanging there. After opening the bathroom door, you dried off your soaking body as quickly as you could before making your way back over to Lucifer with the other towel in hand. You patted his hair down first, then moved to his face and shoulders, working it down to his chest and stomach. You avoided touching the area he needed you to touch the most and finally finished by drying off his legs. "Get ready," you told him as you stood up straight once more. Before he could respond, you scooped him up in your arms again with the towel placed underneath him. You couldn't help but smile down at him once you say how flushed his face had gotten. You effortlessly carried your lover into the bedroom and placed him down on the edge of the bed. You took the towel and placed it on the floor, giving your knees some much needed cushion from the hard wooden floor.

"Sweetheart, p-please," Lucifer said, finally finding his voice again, "you don't have to-" You gently wrapped your fingers around the base of his cock, cutting him off mid-sentence. He could only yelp in response.

"I told you that I would take care of you tonight, did I not?" you replied with a coy smile. "That's exactly what I intend to do."

You lowered your head and gently pressed your lips to the head of his cock which was already covered in precum. Your tongue circled the tip, causing Lucifer to grip the sheets beneath him, not being able to focus on anything else. You relaxed your jaw, forcing your mouth down onto his shaft as far as you could manage. You didn't want to choke, after all! You absolutely adored the sounds leaving Lucifer's lips, desperate moaning and incoherent babbling. You quickened your pace, your hot mouth leaving trails of saliva down your hand. You felt Lucifer's legs begin to shake.

"L-Love," he choked out, "if you don't stop, I'm g-gonna...FUCK!" You didn't stop bobbing your head up and down. If anything, it only made you work faster. You felt his hands reach out to your shoulders, seemingly trying to push you away, but he wasn't trying very hard if that was the case. You refused to budge. "OHFUCKME," was the last thing he could mutter before his orgasm hit him, spilling his hot seed into your mouth. It was salty, but not unpleasant. You kept your mouth firmly on his cock as he rode out his high. You felt him soften in your mouth and you finally removed yourself from him with a *pop*. You caught some of his cum on your finger that had leaked from your mouth, licking it clean. Lucifer caught you doing so and buried his face in his hands.

“You’re going to kill me one of these days, darling,” he mumbled.

You chuckled, pulling his hands away to see his bright yellow eyes staring back at you. “I don’t think I have that kind of power!"

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you before," Lucifer sighed, "my wings are very...sensitive to say the least. I completely forgot about it until it was too late. I thought I could tough it out, but umm, that's clearly not what ended up happening. I didn't want you to think I was some maniac who couldn't control himself..."

You brought your hand up to his cheek, caressing it softly with your thumb. He closed his eyes and leaned into your touch. " You don't have to apologize to me, Luci, it's alright," you comforted. "Besides, seeing you so worked up is extremely hot!"

"Pfft!" Lucifer laughed, picking up on your attempt to lighten the mood. "Well, I'm glad you think so! I was dying the entire time in there!"

You smiled at him and got up from your kneeled position." Do you feel better now? Got it all out of your system?”

"Not quite," he breathed.

As if to take revenge from your stunt from earlier, Lucifer grabbed you by the hips and pulled you on top of him. "HEY!," you protested, but it was already too late; your cunt that's been aching for attention was now perfectly hovered over Lucifer's maniacal grin. Without warning, he pulled your legs down towards him and began to lick up your folds vigorously. His tongue attacking your clit with every lap he took. Your arms gave out almost immediately, forcing you onto your elbows to keep yourself propped up while the dirtiest moans filled the room. "Fuck...Fuck Luci, you feel s-so good...SHIT!," you cried out. His forked tongue worked at your sensitive nub relentlessly, causing the pit in your stomach to tighten. You weren't going to last much longer at this rate, he was too good and he knew it. Every time he ate you out, he always acted like a starving man who would never taste you again. It only took a few more nibbles at your clit before your walls spasmed uncontrollably, cumming hard against his tongue. He hummed in approval as he helped you ride out your orgasm, swallowing every drop of you. You managed to crawl away from him and plopped chest down on your mattress.

"You're insatiable, aren't you, Lucifer?," you teased, still trying to catch your breath.

"And you're irresistible, aren't you, my angel?" Lucifer joked back. He sat up straight against the pillows next to where your head laid. You couldn't help but notice that he was rock hard again. It filled you with pride to know just how much tasting you on his lips could illicit such a response. A thought popped into your head at that moment, your lips forming into a devious smile. You weren't going to let him have the last word. He was done for.

You pushed yourself up from your prone position and straddled Lucifer's lap, leaning down and crashing your lips into his. He moaned into your kiss, licking across your bottom lip, almost like he was begging you for access. You opened your mouth wide and felt his tongue slip past your lips, deepening your kiss. To his dismay, you pulled away from him, panting and breathless. You lined up your entrance with his cock, sinking down onto him in one quick motion. Both of you moaned at the sensation, feeling his cock twitch inside of you. Lucifer eagerly started to buck his hips into you, but you had other plans. You let the rest of your upper body weight fall onto his hips, rendering him immobile.

"Wh-what are you doing?," Lucifer whined as he tried desperately to rut up into you to no avail. "Please...please, need to move...."

You adored him in this state, begging and pleading for you to let him chase his release. "Teaching you a lesson," you grinned, shifting your hips every so slightly and making him bury his head into the crook of your neck.

"PLEASE! Please, I'll do anything!" Lucifer begged, his breathing becoming more and more labored. "Whatever you want!"

"I want you to promise me something, Luci," you cooed, placing your hand under his chin and lifting his head to meet your gaze. "Promise me that you'll come to me if you need help from now on. And in return, I'll promise you that I'll always be there whenever you need me. Do we have a deal?"

Tears welled up in his eyes at your words and the lack of stimulation. He buried his head into your chest, wrapping his arms around you. "YesyesyesIpromiseIpromiseIwill," he sobbed. You smiled and kissed the top of his head, his blond hair brushing against your face.

"That's my good boy," you praised. You decided to end his torment by lifting your hips and slamming back down on his cock at a break neck pace. His wanton moans went straight to your core, you knew another orgasm was fast approaching. He bucked his hips up into you, his cock hitting your G spot just right with every thrust.

"So close...sososoclose," Lucifer whimpered in your ear.

"L-Let go, baby," you choked out in your cock drunken state, "c-cum in me, Luci, pleasepleasePLEASE!"

Lucifer leaned down and bit into your shoulder, muffling his cries as it only took him a few more thrusts before spilling his seed into you. His bite pushed you over the edge as well, pulsating around his leaking cock. You both took a minute to come down from your highs, neither of you wanting to pull apart. At last, you pulled yourself up and out of Lucifer's lap and completely collapsed next to him. You reached over the edge of the bed and picked up the towel from earlier, handing it to Lucifer so he could clean himself up. You were about to fall asleep when you remembered something important.

"OH!," you shouted, startling Lucifer a little bit. "I almost forgot! I made you something!" You reached under your pillow where you had hid his gift from earlier. You pulled out a small duckling keychain with the words "My Little Duckling" beneath it. You passed it to Lucifer who cupped it in his hands, staring at it like it was made of diamonds.

"You...you made this...for me?," he stammered, completely enamored with his present. He clenched his fist around it and held it up to his heart. "I...I love it so much, darling! This is the best gift I've ever received! I'll cherish this forever! Thank you, thank you, thank you!" He pulled you in for the tightest hug he's ever given you while peppering small kisses all over your face. You giggled and managed to capture his lips before he could get another peck in.

"I'm really happy you like it," you smiled. "We'll figure out where you can hang it in the morning, yeah?"

"I'd love nothing more, my dear" Lucifer grinned. "But for now, let's get some sleep, shall we."

You nodded and yawned in agreement. You shifted yourself flush against Lucifer's chest, letting his arms wrap around you. You felt his tail wrap around you leg right before you lost consciousness, letting you know he would never let you go.

~~~~

IT'S FUCKING DONE BABY, LET'S GOOOOOOOO

[slut-for-evans-stan]

Mission Accomplished

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader

Word count: 3.4k+

Summary: Ben and you can't stay in the same room without wanting to rip each other's hearts out. The Boys, tired of dealing with you, decide to take matters into their own hands by tricking you two into completing your most crucial mission yet— resolving your problems. One thing leads to another and you discover that there was an easier, much more enjoyable method to resolve everything between you all along. (I'm sorry I suck at summaries.)

Warnings: SMUT!!!! (18+), Enemies to Lovers, Soldier Boy being Soldier Boy, Dirty talk, oral (m+f rec), fingering, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it fellas), hate fucking!? (kind of), rough sex, swearing, choking, squirting, creampie.

a/n: this is my very first time writing smut. Not proofread, please pardon me for errors if any! I tried my best :')

I'd really appreciate if you could like, comment and/or reblog, it'll make me really happy <3

Being a Supe with extraordinary powers didn't mean you were ready to exploit people for clout, with how things were at Vought. So when Starlight and Hughie learnt that you declined Ashley's offer to have you join the Seven, they convinced you to join hands with The Boys to ensure that the arrogant liars claiming to be "Saviours of the World" got what they deserved. Despite feeling a bit unwelcome at first due to Butcher's distant behaviour, you quickly settled in and felt accepted, and connected to everyone in the team, everyone except the newest member to join forces with you all to help in taking down Homelander and others; Soldier Boy.

In the dimly lit room, stood Soldier Boy in his silk robe, a cigarette in one hand, one leg on the bed, the other supporting his weight on the floor; his back facing the door. Upon hearing a soft knock, he turned around with a smug grin on his face. He began,

"Well, hello there gorgeous! You've sure kept me waiting long enough for someone who made eager promises to choke on my dick."

Unamused, and somewhat disgusted by his comment, you shot him a stern look,

"I'm not here for your entertainment, I need to run a few tests on you. So it'll be nice if you'll please spare a few minutes before you run off to get your dick wet. We need to be sure that you're not going to explode and kill us all."

Soldier Boy's smirk echoed through his room as he eyed you with an amazed expression. Undeterred, he sauntered over to you, leaning in and mistaking your seriousness for a mere challenge.

"Sure. Whatever it is, let's get it over with. Maybe after this, you and I could-"

You cut him off with an icy glare

"Save the charm for someone who cares. I don't have time for this bullshit, we've a mission coming up."

From your very first meeting that started with a misunderstanding, it would've been an understatement to say that Soldier Boy annoyed every living cell in your body. You were both constantly arguing and bickering about something or the other, always at each other's throats.

Soldier Boy's deep, intimidating voice echoed through the room, your comment having hit a nerve.

"You know what, you're insufferable."

"At least I'm not stuck up." he shot back.

What should've been a meeting to discuss the upcoming mission, turned into yet another baseless argument between the two of you. Making your teammates uncomfortable with every passing moment. Hughie, Frankie, Kimiko and others exchanged uneasy glances as the tension thickened. You continued,

"I can't believe I've to be stuck with an unbearable asshole as you. Butcher I think I'm gonna skip this mission. Don't want us to end up in another mess like the last time."

At this point, it seemed like you were both minutes away from strangling each other. Soldier boy chuckled,

"Why, you're so intimidated by a real hero you want to hide away like a pussy?"

Eyebrows raised, you retorted, "Real hero!? More like a reckless liability. I've seen toddlers with better impulse control."

Sensing a storm brewing, Hughie spoke with a shaky voice, attempting to intervene and diffuse the situation. "Can we focus, guys? We have a mission-"

Your gaze never wavered from the supe. "I'll focus when he stops acting like he's better than everyone else. He is not the only one with superpowers here, he might be strong but he doesn't scare or intimidate me in the slightest."

Rolling his eyes, Soldier Boy muttered, "I wouldn't need to if you could follow a plan for once in your life."

Butcher commented shutting you all up "Oi. Enough! No one is backing out. You two should go fuck it out or something, whatever issues you stupid cunts have with each other. Don't need any fuck ups in the mission."

The tension spilled into the supposed battlefield, your bickering a dangerous undertone to the chaos around you. Clashing on missions, your mutual disdain fielding your actions, each vying to outdo the other. Yet beneath the surface, a spark lingered, an undeniable attraction that you both, despised and desired, but neither of you wanted to acknowledge.

On a particularly precarious mission, your incessant bickering almost jeopardized the entire operation.

Amidst the mayhem, you found yourself pinned down by one of the opponents, wounded and unable to use your powers, and Soldier boy reluctantly came to your rescue.

You grunted, "I didn't need your help."

He shot back, "Don't get used to it. I'm saving the mission, not your sorry ass."

Watching the scene unfold from a distance, your teammates exchanged knowing looks. After the mission, they decided they'd have enough, and decided to take matters into their own hands, realising that the unresolved tension between you two threatened not just personal dynamics but the success of missions itself.

On Butcher's suggestion, the team tricked the two of you into thinking there was another mission but instead locking you up in a safe house together,

"Sort this out, or we'll all end up as collateral damage."

warned Hughie before haphazardly shutting the door and leaving, forcing you to confront your issues, facing a choice: either talk and resolve the conflict or risk tearing each other apart. Silence filled the room. However, it was short lived.

Taking a deep breath, you plopped on the sofa across from where he sat and spoke as calmly as you could.

"Great, those little shits tricked us."

Soldier Boy scowled, "This is ridiculous. I don't need couple's therapy, I need a way out of here. I'm gonna beat the shit out of these fucknuts."

This made you roll your eyes and cross your arms. "Maybe if you weren't so intolerable, we wouldn't be stuck in this situation in the first place."

As another argument filled the space, the air in the small living room of the safe house shifted. Soldier Boy's tone somewhat softened, revealing a vulnerability he rarely showed.

"You think I enjoy being like this? Constantly on edge, wondering if I'll turn into a goddamn weapon."

You sighed, your defenses momentarily crumbling.

"I didn't sign up for this either, you know. Being a supe's babysitter wasn't in my job description."

As you bickered, underlying desire simmered beneath the surface. Soldier Boy's gaze lingered a moment too long, making a very visible flush rise in your cheeks.

A smug grin playing on his lips, as he said,

"You can't resist me, can you? Admit it, there's something between us, more serious than all this bickering. You know, I think you want me-"

You cut him off, but your voice wavered. "Keep dreaming, I still can't stand you." This remark gave rise to another banter.

"Don't get over yourself. I was only pulling your leg. You're insufferable."

Accusations started flying like daggers, each word cutting deeper than the last. You walked into the kitchen, grabbing a beer from the fridge, making your way back into the living room, catching him intently staring at you. Frustration morphed into a heated exchange of longing glances.

Tension crackled in the air, and just when it seemed the room might implode, his expression shifted.

He got up from the sofa, walking over to you, cornering you till your back hit the wall. He leaned in, his eyes darkening with a growing desire, his voice dropping to a low, almost conspiratorial tone.

"You know what? Maybe you're right. I can't stand you, because everytime I look at you, this is all I want to do."

You arched an eyebrow, caught off guard. "Wait, what?" But before you could process what was happening, his lips crashed against yours in a passionate kiss, making the beer bottle fall from your hands, effectively silencing any protests. You caught hold of the shirt he was wearing, kissing him back with equal fervour, savoring the moment as if it was a dream that would end all too soon. All your pent up anger and frustration showed up as the two of you desperately tore at each other clothes, never once breaking the kiss. A battle of tongues. He only pulled back for a second, with a sly grin on his face, his eyes dark, pupils dilated with glimmers of lust.

"There, no need to argue when we can do this instead. We should've figured this out sooner." Rubbing you over your panties with two of his fingers, he groaned.

"You're such a slut. So wet already and I haven't even touched you. You want to get railed till you can't walk, don't you?"

Before you had a chance to say anything, he reclaimed your lips in a hunger fuelled kiss. The room once filled with tension, now crackled with a different kind of energy. Pieces of both your clothings flew across the room. Soldier boy lifted you up and carried you to the small table in the kitchen and set you down hurriedly. The two of you continued to kiss while he rid you both of the remaining pieces of clothing. He kissed you like a mad man, biting and marking every inch of your skin he could in his desperate need to be close to you. Starting from your neck, moving to your tits, taking one nipple in his mouth, sucking and biting it while palming and squeezing the other roughly, then switching and doing the same to the other one. He moved back up to place another rough kiss to your lips, both of you moaning and biting each other's tongues and lips, intoxicated with the feeling of being so close. With an animalistic growl he parted, giving you a look so intense, it could scare the bravest of people.

"When you feel the need to scream, moan my name. Scream it as loud as you can."

With that he roughly nudged your legs apart as wide as they could go and dived right in, eating you out like man starved, licking and sucking your most sensitive parts like it was his last meal. You pulled his hair, legs shaking and trembling with pleasure. His gruff beard giving you a delicious burn, that would heal in no time. He started flicking your clit with his tongue and entered two of his fingers inside you, moving them in and out rapidly. When he added two more fingers, you lost it. Screaming his name and cumming all over his face, your legs wrapped around his head, making it impossible for him to move away.

"Fuck. Ben. I can't-"

you tried pulling away but he didn't stop even then, holding you down with his arms, making you cum two more times before finally deciding to let go. You were dazed in pleasure, but still wanted more. Jumping down the table, and on your knees, you made eye contact with him as you slowly took his long, thick and veiny cock in your hand, stroking him and giving a few kitten licks from the base to the tip and sucking off the beads of precum, moaning at the salty taste, making him groan. You then looked up at him, taking him as far as you could before pulling back again and asking him to fuck your face. He hesitated for a second but his resolve crumbled as soon as you opened your mouth, showing him you were waiting for him. He grabbed your head with both his hands and pushed himself into your mouth, roughly thrusting in and out again and again, moaning your name, cussing like a maniac. You could tell he was close, and then he held your head as close as possible, making you gag a little, his eyes closing, his head thrown back, as ropes of his cum shot down your throat.

In ragged breaths, he said "Be a good little slut and swallow it all."

As you did, you opened your mouth with your tongue out, showing no remnants of his release. He chuckled, pulling you up by your arms, surprising you with a softness in his gaze as he asked

"You sure you want to go further? If you don't, we'll stop right here and pretend this never happened-" you cut him off with an aggressive kiss "Fuck me as hard as you can. I won't break. Take all your frustrations out on me."

With that he smirked and rapidly turned you around, bending your back and shoving your face on the table with his hand, setting it for support right by your head. He entered you with one brutal thrust, making the both of you moan and groan loudly, not giving you a second to adjust as he started ramming his cock into you, hard and deep, his hips moving at an inhuman speed.

"That's it. This is what you wanted right? Now take it. I don't think I'm ever going to let you go after this. You feel so good. Gonna make you my personal little fuck toy. Such a perfect fit."

Hearing all the filth leave his mouth made you clench around him, making him throw his head back in pleasure, never once letting his pace falter.

"Ah you love this. I can tell by the way your tight pussy's choking my dick."

At this point, all rational thoughts had left your brain and all you could do was moan and revel in the pleasure he was giving you. One thing you knew for sure was that he had ruined everyone else for you. After a few moments he moved the hand on your back between your legs to rub your clit and you started screaming in pleasure, feeling yourself flying close to the edge. As soon as Ben realised how close you were, he pulled out and turned you around, lifting you on the table and onto your back, swiftly entering you again.

"I know you're close. I wanna see your face when you cum all over me."

He moved his hand back between your legs to rub your clit in circles, while his other hand moved to your neck, choking you, as he went back to thrusting at his original, rough pace. This new angle somehow making him go deeper than before, hitting that one spot that made you see stars.

"Fuck. I don't think I can last long either."

To that, you finally managed to say

"Cum with me."

which sounded more like a moan than a sentence. You both looked into each other's eyes, moaning, grabbing each other, raking your nails all over his gorgeous, broad shoulders, not breaking the eye contact once. After a particularly hard thrust, you felt a funny sensation, one that you have rarely ever felt, only while pleasing yourself and before you knew, you screamed and started squirting your release, coming undone while Ben kept thrusting into you.

"Oh yes. Fuck. That's so hot baby. Cum all over me. I don't think I'll ever get enough of the look on your face right now. I think I've finally managed to shut you up, fucked your brains out. Fuck I'm cumming."

His thrusts grew frantic, and much harder than before, kissing you roughly, your teeth clashing, and he finally slammed his hips into yours one last time, holding your hips so tight, you were sure you would bruise for atleast a few hours, despite your super healing abilities. Groaning and grunting in his deep voice as thick ropes of his cum filled you to the brim, triggering yet another release out of you, making you squirt even more. He collapsed on top of you, careful that he wasn't crushing you with his weight.

The two of you stayed like that, entangled with each other for a few minutes, trying to catch your breath, before he slowly pulled out of you, making you both wince at the sudden loss. As he walked to the living room, "That was it" you thought, a one time rendezvous with Soldier Boy that might have either helped you two or made things worse. He sauntered back in with a towel in hand, towards the sink to wet it, also filling up a glass of water and quietly walking to you, cleaning you up without a word, handing the glass for you to drink. Taking it from him, you looked at him mumbled a soft "thank you", getting down the table, you nudged him to walk out with you, sitting down on the couch and covering yourself with a blanket, while he picked up his surprisingly untorn boxers, putting them on and sitting next to you, making you turn to face him. You both understood you needed to talk about what had just happened.

The shared realisation that the animosity between you two that had led to this impulsively passionate encounter, had somewhere blurred the lines between desire and hate.

Ben began to say "Look, about earlier... I didn't mean half the things I said."

You replied "What? You didn't mean it when you said you want to kiss me and do other filthy things to me everytime you see me?"

Taken aback, with a raised eyebrow and confused express Ben said, "Oh no, no lies there. I've wanted you from the moment I saw you."

You cut him off saying "I know, I was just pulling your leg. I've felt the same way about you. Your reputation preceded you and it made me crazy knowing I still wanted you."

He replied, "I think we let our tempers get the best of us." sighing, he continued "I care about you more than I let on."

Which made you sigh in response. "Then why do you never act like it? Making me think of you as a douche who loves berating me?"

Ben ran his fingers through his hair. "I guess I feel scared. Scared of how much of a hold you have had on me from the very beginning. It made me feel like a fool at times, I thought the only way I could supress these feelings were by acting like an asshole towards you. I'm really sorry."

Your gaze softened, "I'm really sorry too, my behaviour towards you hasn't been any better either." You continued, "I thought we were destined to be enemies. I don't hate you, I never did. I just wanted you to see the person I am beyond the righteous supe everyone else sees."

Ben slowly took your hands in his, making you look into his eyes. "Now I see you more than I ever thought I would. Maybe.. maybe there's something more here."

You replied, "Maybe there is. What happens now?"

To which he said "We talk. Like normal people. No more running away or avoiding things and arguing for no reason. We figure out where we stand, one step at a time, together."

You smiled, nodding your head. "Agreed. No more hiding how we feel. Besides, I guess I like this way of solving our issues much more." Which made him chuckle and pull you into his arms, staring at you intently, pressing his lips to yours.

Back at the Flatiron building, Hughie sat at his table across from Frenchie, fidgeting with his cup. "I'm worried. What do you think? Will they make up or kill each other?"

Butcher entered the room, a smirk plastered over his face "I'm pretty sure they are fucking like rabbits back there." And boy, was he right.

The two of you went multiple rounds, thanks to your super stamina, christening every possible surface of the safe house. From the couch, to the bedroom and the floor, and the shower too. You had both awoken a hunger, only the other could satiate.

"Now that we're not at each other's throats for the wrong reasons, I think maybe, we'd make a good team after all."

Said Ben, holding you close, running smooth circles on along your arms, with the two of you lying on the bed, tired and basking in the afterglow. You smiled, turning to face him. "We'll have to see about that, you might just be right. For now, I can't believe I'm saying this but I need sleep, we both do. You've worn me out completely."

He chuckled, tightening his arms around you, placing a soft kiss to your forehead and lips, and the two of you drifted off to sleep, feeling content in each other's embrace.

It was a start of a connection and understanding that arose from the most unexpected places, even amidst the chaos of a world filled with superhumans and the fight for good. Fiery exchanges and whispered confessions bringing in an unexpected depth to your dynamic, proving that there can be a fragile, pure connection between two polar opposites. Serendipity, often painted as an unusual force, interweaves with fate, guiding people towards love where they're least expecting to find it.

Your story a testament to the unpredicted twists of the heart, proving that even the fiercest adversaries can find redemption in each other's arms.

a/n: Finished watching Season 3 of 'The Boys' just a few days ago and let me just put this out here, Jensen as Soldier Boy is one of the best things to ever happen to this world. Oh! the things I'd let this man do to me-

Been planning this fic for a week now, I really hope y'all enjoyed reading as much as I did writing this.

I'd really appreciate if you'd comment any thoughts, improvements, suggestions or requests that you have! Thank you ^_^

Credits: Banner by @mykento

post divider by @saradika

[riaki]

moneyload | satoru gojo x reader (implied fem)

this is for @satoruoo + everyone who’s tired of my angst | 1k wc

satoru likes spoiling you.

no— like would be the world's greatest understatement. satoru feels about spoiling you the way he feels about you— he doesn’t just like you, he‘s utterly enamored with you. if you asked, he'd move mountains for you. or give up a portion of his candy; both are equitable in his bright eyes. he loves you so much that he'd skip a basketball session with suguru or leave in the middle of the fight to throw the leftover scraps of a cursed spirit to whoever was unlucky enough to be there at the time; you're more important. you've always been.

yeah, that’s gotta be it. a perfect way to paint his feelings for you on a pure canvas brightened by your smile, light as a feather and lively as the sun. and you're completely deserving, he thinks— you, who's always been so patient and kind with him.

as such, he thinks it’s a crime to waste such a beautiful figure on things less than lavish dress and delicate jewelry; but to be honest, he thinks you could don a potato sack and still make it look exquisite. nevertheless, each time you protest when he drapes another dainty necklace glittering with gems cut from a million-dollar wallet and 58 facets (all the reasons he loves you— that's what he calls them.), he shushes you promptly with a swift, sweet kiss; you get a noseful of his expensive cologne every time he sidles up to you and gets comfortable. which, for the record, is quite often.

out of everything he gets you; bouquets of beautiful speckled flowers that look as if a painter dumped their entire palette of pastels and pretties onto the petals, sweet chocolates dark with the tiniest amount of cherry liquor in the center ("i don't need them— i already get drunk off of you, sweetheart!"), fragrant perfume or the latest comfortable clothing that catches his eye (this one's less common. he likes it better when you're only in his clothes.), jewelry is the one he always finds his way back to the most often.

why? well, if you ask him— there's nothing better than being sprawled on your couch with his head in your lap, nuzzling into your warm hand as he catches a whiff of the perfume he gifted you last week paired with the reddest rose he could find on your wrist. your hands card through his hair, and he uses the opportunity to catch your arm before you can move any further, giving you a smug grin as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a box.

(it's a little embarrassing the amount of times you've thought he was going to propose from that alone.)

you'll open it, and it'll be a pretty silver necklace that matches the one around his neck, or a gold ring with ornate details that he slips onto your fingers after taking your hand in his and pressing a kiss to your knuckles with a smile and a laugh. sometimes it's a bracelet adorned with rich jewels the color of your eyes; maybe something rose quartz to represent the flush on his cheeks you always seem to elicit or a marigold yellow to show the pure joy he gets from being around you. if you ask him about it, he'll just say, "i wasn't kidding when i said i get drunk off of you, baby." with a boyish giggle that's far too charming to not have been used in his younger years to get his way and a sweet little wink of an afterthought that has your heart racing.

on the occasions when the gift is far less... appropriate, you'll always sigh and chastise him with a shake of your head because you both know the fabric will be torn to shreds in a matter of a few minutes. he does it anyway, though. he's always been a little bit of a brat in that sense.

whatever it ends up as, satoru absolutely adores seeing your reactions; the cute flush on your cheeks when you accept it with a little thanks and a kiss to his cheek, leaning forward on the tips of your toes because he's too tall for his own good. maybe even to hook a finger around the bridge of his sunglasses for lips to lips, if he's lucky. of course, he knows he doesn't have to buy your affection— you've made that abundantly clear in moments he doesn't like to think about as anything more than vulnerability when he's worn out, but there's just something about you that makes him want to pile it on. he's always had more money than he knows what to do with, anyway.

and maybe, just maybe— one day he'll dare to hope for a future past school hallways, flattering dresses and skirts or sneaky kisses when he's a little sweaty and his jacket is in your arms and you're on the bleachers, hijacking shoko's pack of cigarettes while the squeak of shoes on the gym floor and the sound of a basketball rattling in the hoop fills your ears. past nights when you're curled up in his arms and he can comfortably rest his head in the crook of your neck, tucked away where it always should be (and always will be).

he'll hope for days when he gets to wake up to you by his side, a silver band with so much more meaning than the fifth one he's given you that week on your ring finger and a matching one on his own, because satoru loves you so much that he'd empty out the vaults of a bank just to make you smile at him. not in the hollow way his father always had at home, or in the obligatory resolute smiles of the servants on his estate, but in a genuine way; a way no one else (except his mom) had ever come close to because if he sold everything he ever had for you, his world would still be right in front of him, holding his hands and kissing his face in spontaneous bursts of love, like shooting stars dancing across his cheeks as a way of thanks.

...so, maybe satoru likes spoiling you so much because you always seem to return tenfold.

if u looked at my search history you'd see 'how many cuts does a diamond have' and 'what are the chocolates with alcohol in them called' my (riaki) stuff. don't repost and/or plagiarize !

[chrollohearttags]

commissions corner • the winning team

your boyfriend finds out your old flame is his new rival on the field and makes sure you don’t get wandering eyes for him….anyone else.

content warning and themes: black fem reader, college au, football player reiner, thigh riding, small argument and him being jealous, spit play, slapping, rough sex, oral, dirty talk, choking, overstimulation, full nelson, unprotected sex, pet names, fingering, breeding

word count: 8.4K

📝: this was a piece commissioned by @spiralflood and I cannot thank you enough for entrusting this to me and letting me write this fic for you. I do hope you enjoy it. Thank you so much for your support and patience. I apologize that this has taken so long but I hope that it was worth the wait and I look forward to working on your second piece.

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“Welcome back to the college playoff, folks! This has been one of the most intense matchups we’ve seen in this season thus far.”

“I have to agree, Jim. We’re seeing professional levels of playing here tonight. Especially from the quarterback. Braun is playing as if he has something to prove here..ten points in the first quarter..”

And they had no idea how true said sentiment was. As the announcers spouted off data and statistics about the game that was transpiring, onlookers and listeners alike tuned in to get the latest updates on the biggest one of the season. Homecoming. An annual ceremony..almost religious experience in the college town (y/n) (l/n) and so many other bright scholars called home. Including the illustrious football team’s star quarterback and your boyfriend of three years, Reiner Braun. A burly, stackhouse of a man who was as gentle as he was strong. He had a kind heart and iron clad determination. It was just a few of the redeemable qualities you loved about him. Including the fact that he held an innate obsession with you. Not in the sense that he was predatory or dangerous about it. But he was absolutely infatuated with everything about you. From your warm, loving personality to your equally kind heart. A lady who worked hard and always extended such compassion to everyone. Not to mention your beauty. In his eyes, you were truly a once in a lifetime type of woman. A rarity and any man, lucky enough to find you was blessed beyond relief. Hence why, he went above and beyond to prove his devotion.

“And even on the field, he’s a loverboy. Braun going over to the bleachers to steal a good luck kiss from his girl. How sweet.”

as you diligently cheered him on from the stands; seated front row in a plaid skirt, black turtleneck and platform heels..tights hugging your on your thighs, those broad shoulders and blonde hair would come jogging towards you..a giant smile on his face and hands clutching his shoulder pads. His signature white, khaki and red uniform for the Warriors stained in brown and green spots from the tumbling around. Running plays and colliding with others who possess equally brute strength. It was all in the fun of football and his love for the sport. But if there were one thing that Reienr adored more than anything, it was you. Rushing back over, he’d meet you halfway for a searing peck, one captured by the television cameras who were filming for ESPN..shortly before cutting to enthused cheerleaders, shaking their pom-poms. Everything was going on around him and he was solely focusing on you.

“Hey papa. You’re doing so good out there..I’m so proud of you!”

his face flush with his cheeks burning red once you complimented him. Truthfully, it was the only encouragement he needed. That team was as good as finished as long as he had his number one fan there to cheer him on. “Thanks, sugar. I’m glad you came to see me..I know how busy you’ve been with your dissertation and all comin’ up..” “Please, I wouldn’t miss it for anything, Rei Rei.” squishing his cheeks between your hands in a cutesy manner as you kissed the top of his forehead. It may have been a bit embarrassing if some of his teammates caught him but he could care less. He was all in when it came to his lady. However, it would seem that he wasn’t the only one with wandering eyes..just as the two of you shared your precious moment, another player would wander up, clutching his own shoulder pads and parading around with somewhat of a cocky smirk plastered across his face. He obviously was on the opponent’s side..donning a blue, white and silver uniform; akin to the Dallas Cowboys but adorn with a shield insignia. He was gnawing at what seemed to be an old piece of gum before spitting it to the ground and nearing Reiner.

“Well well…look at you, Brauny. You never told me you had a girlfriend..she’s cute.”

the culprit’s name?

“What the hell do you want, Jaeger? We’re opponents and we’re damn sure not friends so I can’t understand why you’re talking to me.” “Woah, calm down! I’m just making a lil’ friendly conversation during our break. We’re out here to have a good game..I know we’re rivals and all but no need to get your jock strap in a bunch, dude. Stop taking shit so seriously.” Eren Jaeger, the Titans’ wide receiver. He was infamous for his fast speed and countless returns. In this season alone, he had scored nearly two hundred points by his lonesome. He was set to become a first round draft pick upon graduation at this rate and he was on his way to being in the big leagues. However, he is just as well known for his less than savory attitude. In truth, he was a cocky son of a bitch with a mouth slicker than oil and a very obnoxious aura that just exudes arrogance. If he couldn’t fight so well, he’d probably end up with his ass beat everyday. Of course, the ladies didn't seem to mind or care all too much, because he was so handsome and that they may have been the only ones he treated with a shred of decency and kindness. Which was only done so long enough to get in their pants and after that, they were discarded to the wayside with everyone else. His teammates could barely even stomach him and Reiner, needless to say, was his biggest hater. Not so much for his reputation or popularity among the girls but his narcissistic personality. Football was Reiner’s biggest love in life next to you and when someone desecrated it with their selfish disregard for their teammates and no respect for his opponents, he could never like his ass! Releasing a deep sigh, pinching his nose, Reiner was turning to face him and tell him to kick rocks but it was unbeknownst to him, as he did so..Eren would surprise you both.

“Maybe you should start taking shit seriously. You’re such an annoying—“ you were in the midst of trying to calm your man down, patting at his chest to stop as this was super unbecoming of his gentle and docile demeanor. Tonight was supposed to be his night and you’d be damned if some insufferable asshole ruined it! However, when the brunette nightmare stepped closer and all but dismissed Reiner with a hand to his face; fixating his emerald eyes on you..(y/n) all but froze in your tracks. It was as if you were looking a ghost directly in the face. He was like a relic from your past…a reminder of the nonsense you used to put up and deal with before finding the best thing to ever happen to you.

“I knew I recognized you from somewhere..God, I could never forget a face so pretty. Damn, you sure look good, (y/n). Or should I say..(nickname used strictly by Eren).” Eliciting sudden shock and fear in you. Fear that Reiner was going to kill this dude and get himself ejected from the game for off-field misconduct. The thing you were most concerned about were not his attempts to drum up the past as to get underneath your man’s skin but to keep maintaining order. Because this was exactly what he wanted. See, as someone who was always so used to having their way, it ate Jaeger to his core that there were two things Reiner had that he never could: a championship and you. He was an S-tier player with a grade A rank but he had yet to gain a trophy, hence why he wanted your boyfriend off of his game so that he could hopefully get his team to victory. He was merely the wide receiver so he was limited in what he could do to ensure victory. That was mainly up to the quarterback, but if he snuffed out the opposition’s, it would make things much easier. When it came to you, it ate him alive that this brown nosing, goody two shoes bastard was the one getting to have all of that and had you acting all saint-like. Knowing damn well that wasn’t who you were!

“What is he talking about?” “N-nothing.” Because the truth was..Eren had you first. He was the first one to truly get you out of your shell and those clothes! You lost your virginity to him right after high school and after a couple times together, he had all but awoken your demon. In essence? You had become somewhat of a freak and after a while, he couldn’t even tame you. In his words, you were ‘the best pussy he’s ever had.’ Knowing that you were some nerd who kept your head in the books only to then give him head under the table was insane. Even more so with this wholesome image you were so desperate to portray. What he didn’t bet on was for you to lose interest after you found out he had multiple women on his roster. He figured since he was the one to take your innocence and corrupt you, you’d be super attached but that wasn’t the case. Your self esteem was a lot higher than what he bet on and it ate that prick alive to know that you moved on so easily to someone who appreciated you. However, he was betting on the fact that you had never told Reiner about your past and how you let him fuck you while his best friend filmed it or that he had explored your body in ways that the little farmer boy only wished he had. You probably played coy; acting all shy and sweet. You were a slut, his first and he had that trump card if nothing else.

“C’mon, (nickname)..don’t be like that. Share with the class. Tell our sweet Rei Rei how you used to kiss me just like that..”

letting the words linger on with a bit of a flare to them..licking over those pouty lips as his gaze wavered with flashbacks of you two together plaguing his mind. However, all Reiner could see was red and it was then that you wished this little ten minute intermission would hurry up and finish already before things got out of hand. But he had to finish putting the nail in the coffin!..

“Of course…that was after you topped me, right? Had that lil’ throat nice and trained, isn’t that right, baby?—“ and it was then that your boyfriend lost all semblance of control and lunged towards him, jacking Eren up by his shoulder pads. Luckily, everyone seemed to be preoccupied so it gave you time to rush over and defuse the situation and pry him off of this dumbass. Of course, he didn’t give a shit, he had gotten the exact reaction he had hoped for. “Rei, Rei! Stop it! Please!—“ but he was already too irate. “Shut up and stay out of this, (y/n)! I don’t know who the fuck this jackass thinks he is but I’m about to beat the hell out of him.” Just in the nick of time, some of his teammates spotted the situation and decided to help by prying the two apart and a couple of the Titans did the same. He was too good of a guy to squander his opportunities for an evil soul like this. “You proved your point, Eren. Now leave and get the fuck out of here.” And unbothered as always, he’d take his leave and bow out. “I’m sure we’ll meet again, my love.” Laughing as he walked away with his equally as stupid homeboys. Once your man realized he had not only lost self control but hurt your feelings, he quickly simmered down and took a few breaths. Grasping the guard rails, Reiner banged his hand against it..head lowered and heart thudding.

“Look, Rei. I’m sorry, I don’t know what—“

“Don’t worry about it, alright? It’s okay…I’m sorry for yelling at you. But we’ll talk about this later.”

even with frustration and anger riddling his whole body, he still found it in his heart to show you compassion and kiss you on the forehand, telling you that he loved you before being whisked off by his teammates. It was time to resume the game and for him to focus. His teammates had to give him a bit of a pep talk on the way back to the field, in hopes he’d calm down before their hothead coach spotted it and benched him. They had too much riding on this game for unchecked emotions to ruin it. You’d surely never hear the end of it if they lost because of this. Maybe not from Rei but the town would surely be talking! For right now, all you could do was watch and wait..and Rei? It was time to channel that energy into the game and leave it all on the fifty yard line!..

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

the game resumed as scheduled and Reiner seemed to be a bit more grounded after that, as well as play! Once the third quarter kicked off and he got out there, it was an entirely different game! Where the Titans held a five point lead before the second half, that all but changed because he told the coach they were implementing a new technique..one that would involve knocking Eren’s dumb ass silly. Tackling him from his blind spot and combatting that super speed. Although he was as fast as he was, he’d never see it coming. And Reiner wanted to witness it. Running play after play, the Warriors ran roughshod on the team and especially their wide receiver..knocking him to the ground a couple times, which severely upset the pretty boy player. If there was one thing Eren did not take kindly to, it was defeat. He hated to lose in any form or capacity. On or off the field. The fact that he was being outclassed by some country bumpkin asshole from the sticks and he had your pretty ass cheering him on to boot was driving him insane. Sportsmanship be damned, he was going to get his lick back! Just then, he’d circle the sideline and as the camera panned to running down the field, he’d blow a kiss in your direction and at that exact moment, the lens captured Reiner’s reaction! Needless to say, it wasn’t one of happiness but utter shock and anger. His rage could barely be sated at this point and the normally gentle giant was ready to tear that little twig into pieces. He was such a snobby, arrogant prick and tonight, he had gone too far. In order to keep himself from losing control, he paced the sidelines and grasped a paper cup, dousing himself in some of the liquid. “Hey, Braun. Get your shit together man..don’t let that asshole make you lose your cool. You know (y/n) doesn’t want him and you shouldn’t let his childish antics get under your skin. You blow this and you can kiss the rest of your scholarship and future goodbye. Don’t do this, man. Trust me.” His teammate and quite possibly someone who normally would not have been so poised, talked him off the deep end. Porco Galliard, the Warriors’ fellow wide receiver and an equal hater of the cocky player. He and Reiner weren’t exactly the closest but they had an equal hatred of Eren and his crew. They were tired of him but if they managed to keep their cool, he was as good as defeated. Even so, Reiner’s mind was elsewhere and obviously checked out.

“Make it through the game, huh? That’s all?” Clutching his shoulder pads, Reiner nodded profusely as if he were trying to reassure himself. Suddenly, the whistle would blow for both sides to return to the field and he’d rush back on the grass alongside Porco and they’d resume the rest of the quarter, heading into the final one. If all he had to do was get through the rest of this without strangling him, then he had to be the bigger person and keep a level head. But once he finished up…

all bets were off and he was going to handle his business for sure. In a way that you or no one else would expect!

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

another hour or so passed before the final play was called and the scores were announced..the crowd waited with baited breath, clutching their chests in the cold temperatures as the star of this game shined once more. “He’s going for it…AND HE SCORES! THE WARRIORS WIN SIXTY TWO TO FIFTY ONE WITH A HUGE UPSET BY BRAUN! Let me tell ya’ something folks, we have not seen playing of this caliber in a very long time.”

“Yeah, Jim. I’m not sure what pivotal shift Braun underwent after the second half but he was on an entirely different level. What an exciting game!”

excitement and celebration ensued throughout the stadium and the city. Cheers erupted in the stands, outside in the parking lot where tailgaters listened on and at the local bars and restaurants packed full of fans. The long, drawn out game had finally concluded and needless to say, everyone was ecstatic; ready to celebrate!…everyone except Reiner that was. At least in the way that the rest of his teammates and the town were planning on. Whilst both sides of football players shook hands, gave congratulations and even hugs, for those that were not at odds on personal matters, Reiner couldn’t even be vexed. His fellow brethren were attempting to give him his flowers but he was too busy darting back towards the bleachers..making a beeline straight for one person. Despite his loss, Eren was still as smug as ever and completely unphased. Because truthfully, he didn’t care. He didn’t care about the game, his teammates or anything else..already, the dancers on the sidelines, majorettes and cheerleaders were already flocking to come help ‘console’ the wide receiver. As far as he was concerned, he’d still won. Living rent free in Reiner’s head, crawling underneath your skin and quite possibly causing problems in your perfect little relationship..what more could he ask for?! Meanwhile, (y/n) was waiting on the sidelines now, having rushed to the field, the second the final score was announced to await your man’s arrival. But alas, you weren’t greeted with the reaction you were expecting..the normally jovial, sweet Reiner with his awkward smile and adorable laugh was stoic and stone faced as ever. Not even speaking a word as he neared you. For someone who had just won a super important game with such a wide score margin…he seemed rather upset!

“Rei! You did it! I’m so proud of—“

the words could barely even escape your mouth before you’d feel yourself tugged towards the opposite sides of the bleachers and away from the roaring crowd. Everyone seemed to be far too busy with their own nonsense to pay you two any attention. His larger hand cusped around your own as he drug you along away from potentially prying eyes. Where was he taking you? Your guess was as good as any..but soon enough, you’d be finding out in a major way.

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“I just don’t understand why you’re so upset, Rei. I already told you. He means nothing to me. Never had, never will. Besides, it was long before I met you…I didn’t know he’d be such an asshole.”

“It’s not that, sugar. I just..damnit, why’d ya’ have to sleep with him or all people, ya know? I’ve known him for as long as I could remember and he’s the worst. You could’ve done so much better..” Meanwhile, you two had made your way back to the off campus apartment you shared not too far from the college. Living together made situations like this a bit awkward..despite being upset with one another, you couldn’t exactly stray off and cool down when needed. Luckily, you guys did have your own separate bedrooms for studying and storing your own stuff. It wasn’t for a lack of love or care in the slightest. Sometimes you just needed your own space. Too bad, he wasn’t hearing any of that tonight! Taking an Uber back to the complex, the two of you stared out of the window, trying not to cause a scene or argue. But the second you hit your living room, the gloves were off and he let all of those hard feelings be known. You attempted to give him the silent treatment for his outburst and erratic behavior but alas, here he was; his big six foot four, two hundred eighty pound ass planted on your bed..surrounded by plushies and Hello Kitty merchandise.

“Well hindsight is a bitch, isn’t she? Trust me, had I known what type of person he was, I wouldn’t have even looked in his direction..” gradually, you’d make your way onto the bed and drape your arms around his broad shoulders, in an attempt to soften your sweetie pie up. It wasn’t in him to act in such a way or even become jealous but something about Eren truly unsettled his spirit. Guys like him deserved nothing but the worst and they damn sure didn’t deserve to have a queen like you underneath his body. The thought of him even touching you disgusted Reiner to his core. Honestly, how could he have possibly ever satisfied someone like you? The mental picture alone made him want to strangle that asshole. But you had a far better solution for his frustrations and a much more suitable outlet for his anger..your body. Tracing a finger along his shoulders and along his shoulder blade, you leaned down to kiss him as you remained draped across his back, you’d begin to subtly place kisses along his jawline and jugular, hoping to make that scowl on his face turn to a smile soon. And it would seem that your little ruse was working like a charm.

“Seriously, baby..do you really wanna spend one of the biggest nights of your football career fighting..over that asshole nonetheless? I mean..you won the playoffs. Don’t you think we should be..celebrating instead?” Proposing as you dredged the tip of your tongue across his earlobe. Leaving a trail of butterfly pecks along the way. Your words and gentle touch melted into him like butter on toast. You were right, there was no need to concern yourselves with the past. Tonight was all about your man and his victory..so you were going to ensure that he got his proper congratulations. But he too had plans of his own. Plans to ensure that you kept true to that statement about not letting him back into your life or thoughts because he was going to ensure that he was the only thing on that pretty little mind of yours.

turning around to face you, Reiner would merely scoff before narrowing his eyes to meet your own. “Yeah, I guess you have a point..” With a smirk on those pouty pink lips, he’d slowly bridge the gap between you two before initiating a searing kiss. Sloppy pecks ensued with his tongue swirling around inside of your mouth; flickering against one another to take control. The moment had quickly shifted from accumulated tension to pure unadulterated lust. As quiet as it was, you had been holding back your carnal desire for him all night. Watching him sprint up and down that field…his tongue wagging as he panted from the heat. Oh, how you wished it were between your thighs. So much so, you had to squeeze them together just to fein off the thought. And when his jersey came off after the game…removing the gear for a shower and you’d catch a glimpse of all the jarring battle scars he had acquired during the game, you wanted to kiss and brush each one. But more so, you wanted to add to the collection. Screaming his name and scratching that back. Perhaps though, the moment to turn you on the most was when he decided to lash out at that asshole Eren. Ready to risk his entire football career and go to war behind his baby..it was enough to make you rip him out of his jersey and fuck him right there! Eventually, this impromptu makeout season would escalate to him pulling you onto his lap and allowing you to straddle it as the sensual kissing continued. With a beefy bicep wrapped around your back, Reiner held you in a place and in one fell swoop, he’d begin to raise your shirt and bra.

“Rei….‘need you so bad. Damn..”

and he was more than obliged to grant your request. Especially when you moaned his name so delicately and sweetly. The thought of saying another man’s drove him insane and he knew he couldn’t play around when it came to establishing that you were all his. Grunting into the crook of your neck whilst he was suckling on it and your collarbone; nibbling gently on your ear as well…

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll give you whatever you want… keep grinding on me..just like that.” Releasing a soft mutter in your ear. In a matter of moments, the two of you were a tangle of limbs. Feeling one another up and gradually tearing each other out of your clothes. But you’d soon come to see that he wasn’t much in the way of being gentle tonight. Much like his movements on the field, he needed that rough and tumble, that aggression and fire that had been harboring whilst he was out there playing. Watching you cheer from the sidelines..those breasts bouncing up and down as you gleefully shouted his name. That outfit..so innocent yet elicited the most salacious of thoughts from his mind. He thought of how he longed to hike that little plaid skirt up and bend you over in it..hoist that turtleneck and grope those juicy tits underneath. All very perverse but justified in his mind. Not to mention, that asshole’s comments had piqued his interest. He tended to take anything he spewed from his raggedy mouth with a grain of salt but he’d be lying if he said that he didn’t want to see if you were every bit of the nympho he painted you out to be.

now spun with your back facing him, Reiner allowed you to continue straddling his thigh before tilting your head back and shoving his tongue between your lips. Thrashing around and swirling your own as he invaded your mouth. “Mmph!” Whimpering so sweetly whilst you exchanged those sloppy kisses. With a smaller hand pressed to his stubble ridden cheek, (y/n) shamelessly flicked your tongue around, making him huff lightly. It was apparent that you seemed to be enjoying yourself by the obvious damp spot in the seat of your panties..rubbing against the newly exposed flesh of his thigh. Meanwhile, he had worked the bottom hem of your black shirt up your torso and soon, his massive, veiny hands took the place of your lace bra; those beautiful, supple breasts falling from the double D cups in one fell swoop. He’d pinch your nipples lightly at first, just to see how your body reacted to the sensation. “Right there, pretty girl…go slow.” Instructing you to falter your speed so that you didn’t come too quickly. Which had happened in the past. He knew how sensitive you could be when it came to sex. How the slightest brush to your little clit could send you over the edge or how a few strokes could have you leaking like a faucet. It were these little details that Eren or anyone else would never know. The small things that only your true lover could see…he was the only man you needed and ever would!

“Rei….oh fuck.” Those sweet cries spilling from your mouth when he decided to shove two of his fingers inside of it and allowed your saliva to drench them.

“I know…” arrogantly declaring with his eyes fixated on you. Slowly fucking your jaws with sweet nothings being whispered against your lips…eventually, those same fingers trailed down your exposed tummy and into your panties. Without breaking eye contact once, Reiner merely chewed his lower lip; smirking whilst working those digits around your swollen clit. He could tell that you had been holding back all night..refraining from letting lust overtake you but since you were now all alone, you were free to do whatever you wanted. He looked so good in that uniform, all you could envision was ripping it off and getting on your knees for him. But now that didn’t have to be a far off reality. At the moment though, he had control and he knew exactly what to do: “Hey, open your legs..” so that he could maneuver around and slide those fingers inside of you. Once he did so, you instantly gasped and burrowed yourself down on them. Working you over with his other hand planted to the back of your neck as security. He didn’t need you looking, thinking or worrying about anything else right now. “That’s right, focus on me, sweetheart. Focus on riding these fingers…” all you needed to do was be his good little slut. Sounds of smacking wetness began to fill the room along with the sloppy kissing that had been ensuing for a while now. The remnants of his flavor are heavy on your tongue. By now, you had become a puddle between those thick thighs and would only become wetter as time lingered on. The more he teased and tousled that sweet little cunt, the more you panted for him..whimpered his name, the stronger his desire to absolutely ravage you grew. When you’d grow too needy, he’d quell your yelps by shushing you..knowing it was futile. “Does it feel good, baby? Tell me…” “…y—yes! So good..” answering almost immediately with no hesitation. His fingers raked along the small of your back, snaking up to eventually meet your backside, which he gave an ample squeeze.

akin to a little pup, your tongue wagged; dripping with saliva and your eyes glossed over in a dumbed out expression. The sweetest part was that he was merely getting started and you were already so needy for him. But the sentiment was the exact same if he were being completely honest. That much was apparent by the growing bulge seen through the sheath of his gray sweats. Becoming larger and harder by the second. “You’re so wet, darling…what’s got you all worked up? Hmm?” Questioning rhetorically with a smug grin on his face as he bridged the distance between your faces; increasing the intensity between your gazes. He wanted to see every reaction, hear every filthy moan and mutter, all the nasty things you wanted him to do..he just wanted to know that this was all his!

“Go ahead, tell me…what’s on that pretty lil’ mind of yours? Maybe ya’ wanna tell me something. Like what you want me to do to you..I’m all ears.”

he needed that confession more than anything right now. If for no other reason than to stroke his own ego. A little selfish but every time he imagined you getting all nasty with that scum, the urge to one up him grew stronger. If he made you a bad girl, he was going to make you his little whore. By the end of the night, you were going to be doing tricks that would make a pornstar jealous. “Need you to fuck me, Rei…need you in me so bad..” uttering in a soft, broken whimper. Not one of sadness but pure overstimulation. You were mere seconds away from coming and if he didn’t pull those fingers out soon, you were going to turn his legs into a waterslide. Instead though, he’d have you get in on the fun and pull out that throbbing erect as you spoke. Tugging at that elastic waistband, you’d free his cock from behind its confines and slowly jerk him off. His compression shirt painted to those chiseled abs and steel like pecs, even catching glimpses of those stiff nipples through them. Right now, you were at one another’s mercy. One wanting the other to crack first so you could give into those shared desires.

“I think ya’ can do a little better than that. C’mon, darling.. Tell me all the nasty shit you send me in those texts when I’m in practice. All the things you say on those sexy lil’ videos when I'm in class that you don’t want anyone else to know about. When it’s just us..the side I only I get to see..” whispering the last sentence with a grumble that made your legs quiver..emphasizing the point that he had you wholeheartedly. Simultaneously, his pace increased and he’d begin fingering you even faster. You peered over your exposed breasts and tummy to see his hands moving rapidly; thrashing around inside of you. It was clear that you were about to combust. But he’d let you reach your peak, with only one condition..

“Say it and I’ll give ya’ what you need.” And at that moment, you didn’t bother to hold back. Rutting your hips, (y/n) ground yourself on his hand and release sharp breaths along with those perverse commands.

“I need that dick so fucking bad…fuck me, Rei! Please…make me come all over that shit.” sucking your teeth as you spouted the words with conviction. You’d rattle off about how you wanted him to not hold back and to fuck you with all that pent up aggression and anger he obviously harbored from the game. And he was more than thrilled to oblige. Letting that smirk creep across his face, he’d abruptly halt and withdraw his fingers…only long enough to toss you onto the mattress and pin your legs back. He’d make haste in removing those panties along with the rest of your clothing, with the exception of those thigh high socks that he thought looked so sexy. They gave you this innocuous look that he just loved. From there, he’d shed his own threads and hover above you. Taking you by your calves, he’d prop them wide open and hold you by the backs of your knees to expose that dripping warmth to the cool air and himself. It was blatantly obvious that he was just as ready by the way his cock twitched if its own volition and he splayed it across your slit. Those fat lips and clit enveloping him like a warm blanket once he slid it across. Teasing and tapping that head against your swollen bud. You’d peer down in anticipation as he shoved that shaft in his palm and stroked it; letting precum seep on your folds as he prepared to enter you. Your heat and tiny hole practically oozing for him. “You ready, baby? Ready for all this dick?” Nodding your head profusely in response as you bit down on your bottom lip. “Yes! Fuck me, baby..” with that, Reiner leaned forward and placed a hand on the headboard to steady himself, allowing you to hold your own legs open..seconds later, he was inside of you and it was the best damn feeling in the world. Better than any trophy or touchdowns…this was all the prize he needed. Sucking his teeth, he’d sit there for just a moment to gather his bearings. A perfect fit if you had to say so..the way you so easily conformed to his shape and took him with ease, he never wanted to pull out. Even so, he’d begin to move and find his pace, slowly thrusting up into you.

“Fuck…this pussy’s so warm, baby. Might not get me to pull out tonight. Shit..” admitting as he glared into your doe brown eyes; unable to stare at your pretty face for too long because he’d end up nutting too quickly. But he paced himself and started out slow. That thick, long cock stretching you open and causing you to cream with only a few thrusts in. The two of you watched it slide in and out, batting your eyes and whimpering with each one. It felt so fucking good, you didn’t know what to do. “Fill me up, baby..nut all in this pussy. I don’t care.” Whereas he normally resorts to splattering it all over your tits or plump ass but tonight, you were going to be stuffed with every drop of that warm seed. So Reiner continued feeding you those deep, long strokes..even speeding up the tempo to really get you acclimated. “You take me so good, sweetheart. I fucking love it..how nasty you get f’r me. You’re gonna let me see all of that tonight, right? Are you gonna be a good lil’ slut for daddy?” And the answer was a given. But if he didn’t want to take your word for it, all he had to do was keep dicking you down like this and you’d get nasty in ways he’d never seen.

“Keep going…fuck me just like that and you’ll see for yourself, baby.”

challenge was as good as accepted. With your arms coiling your legs, hands reaching around to stroke your clit..(y/n) massaged that swollen clit and egged him on. You’d tell him how big that dick was and how amazing it felt. Even telling him to go as deep as he wanted, until you felt it in your stomach. You didn’t want him to stop until these sheets were soaked! Which weren’t just says to inflate his head. Reiner had a bit of a praise kink and you knew if you said the right things to make him tick, you’d be crawling out of here. And just as you suspected, it worked like a charm! A minute or so later, he was jolting you around, pumping you full of cock, so much so, you were practically impaled on it. Those big tits swaying freely. “You fucking this pussy so good, daddy..damn.” Whining as you clawed at the backs of your legs. Looking for any bit of comfort in these brutal strokes. Smacking noises ensued and a puddle of frothy white warmth spilled from that little hole.

“I’m fucking you good, baby? That pussy creaming just for me…better than that asshole, right?” That much was obvious! By now, Reiner had taken the place of your hand and began massaging your bud with his thumb pad before roughly fucking up into you. It made him wonder just how long you could take this dick before you climaxed. He’d alternate his speeds just to toy with you; slowing down when you began to pulsate around his shaft and practically drill you into the mattress when you broke eye contact with him, which he hated. This was an entirely different side of your beloved Rei. One that was far more aggressive and a lot less forgiving. He didn’t have it in him at the moment to take it easy on you. You’d find yourself matching his energy and sucking on your teeth to take the brunt of the thrusts.

“Fuck him, focus on me…this is your pussy, right?” “It’s mine, all mine, baby…” “Prove it. Fuck me like you mean it. Do it.”

and with that order, he’d gladly follow. It was as if you had activated something inside of him. Sometimes, he needed that extra boost but once you got his engine going, there was no slowing down! Aggressively grunting into your ear, Reiner leaned down with his hand snaked around your throat, causing you to gasp as he restricted your air. Gasping and clawing at his abs as those strokes became a lot harsher, he’d swat you away with the opposite hand before slapping your left cheek. “You wanna touch something, rub that fucking clit..” commanding with nothing but pure lust behind those hazel eyes. You were trembling and only a mere matter of minutes from coming. But he didn’t seem to care. He wasn’t going to pull out, just as he said so if you wanted to do it, it’d be with him lodged inside of you. The silky fleshiness of that tight little cunt was something serious. Sticky, tight, wet and warm: a dangerous combination for a man. He loved no feeling more in this world than fucking the shit out of you! At this point, the headboard was banging against the wall and your neighbors were going to be pissed but he didn’t give a shit. He wanted the whole world to know who you belonged to. Your entrance was wrapped around him..the grip practically unreal and he was only able to make it halfway. For now that was..

“ ‘S too much! Rei…” crying out with a shrill whimper that only further fed his fire. Feeding you yet another heavy handed slap along with some intense kisses, Reiner shoved every inch he could muster inside of you. “I don’t give a fuck..take me. Make me fit.” Just then, his hand would coil your throat before leaning down to grimace in your face. “I said…make me fit. Open up.” Speaking for both your tight hole and mouth, which he filled with spit shortly after. Something that took you completely off guard. You wouldn’t label the sex between the two of you vanilla by any means but it wasn’t often that he exercised so much aggression. Fucking him was always so intimate….passionate and soft, but tonight, you were merely his to use. And there wasn’t a single complaint about it! You wanted him to see that side of you; to drudge it back out and let him know, it was for his pleasure only. Gritting your teeth, you’d eventually laugh and let your tongue wag around outside of your mouth in a breathy haze. You’d beg for more..asking him to feed you more saliva and deeper, rougher strokes until the bed began to quake! Your voices were so brash and loud, others may have suspected you were fighting. But it was nothing of the sort. Just fierce, explosive lovemaking between two equally obsessed partners who had something to prove.

“Right there, Rei! Fuck me, fuck me—AHH!” Belting out in a loud cry as you rapidly massaged your clit and brought forth your very first of many orgasms. Without so much as a warning, you wet up the entire lower half of his torso and cock..spraying a powerful stream of squirt juices all over that skin and that seemed to really light that dormant spark in his eyes. Watching you flood the sheets had him ready to taste it all for himself. “Wait, sweetheart. Don’t be stingy now…save some for me..” With your legs still trembling uncontrollably, he’d grasp both and part them to each side before diving head first in between. Your sensitive little clit was severely swollen..even so, that didn’t stop him from flicking his tongue around it and sucking on your delicate folds. Running his fingers throughout the thin membranes. Reiner left a few kisses on those beautiful pussy lips and inhaled the essence of your feminine scent in the process. He was so adamant on laying claim throughout every inch of your body tonight!

“Shiiit!” Exclaiming with a high pitched laugh, (y/n) attempted to place your hands on his scruffy blonde locks and shoulder blades in an attempt to push him away but to no avail. This was his and all for the taking. “Okaaay! You win...eating the fuck outta this pussy!” but with the same smugness he initially started with, Reiner continued devouring that cunt with all his might. Sucking and slurping, disrespectfully thrusting his tongue into you before spitting into those folds once more; shooting you a wink in response. “..told you I don’t play fair.” That’s when you felt yourself become full yet again, this time with two fingers..working themselves in and out. Having not too long experienced your climatic peak, you’d find yourself attempting to feign off another one. And he wasn’t going to let up until you were trickling down his chin. Trembling profusely, your eyes crossed and your chest heaved once more. In that moment, that impending pang in the bottom of your belly swelled until it could no longer be housed. His large, calloused hands gripping the innards of your thighs, pinning them to the sheets so that your only option was to grind yourself against his face. “That’s it, baby. Ride that fucking tongue…put it in my mouth. Said you were gonna get nasty f’r me so do it…” laying heavy handed smacks against your skin to keep you alert and even slapping those plump pussy lips as well once withdrawing those fingers. He wasn’t even giving you time to react to the stimuli coming from every angle. Dredging up one sticky shower of cum right after the next. It was as if you couldn’t stop. Something akin to a broken fire hydrant..

“Squirt in this mouth, baby. I want it all.” Greedily demanding with his hands roaming around your asscheeks as he dove head first into your center. But just as quickly you become adjusted to having your pussy eaten, you find yourself lying there, shaking until he leaned up and grasped your ankle..tugging you towards the end of the bed. Quite honestly, it astounded you how he had so much energy to handle you like this after playing such an intense game! But being fueled by envy and lust had that effect on a person.. “Rei..please. F-fuck!” From there, you’d find your legs folded back once more and this time, your entire body being hoisted from the bed frame. “Grab my neck and hold still…” his only instructions because he was handling the rest. By the time you realized what exactly he was up to, your legs were coiled around his torso, and you were being impaled on his cock. The look on your face told him everything he needed to know..you were loving this just as much as he was! Being bounced around and used as his own personal fleshlight. Even after being pounded into oblivion before, he was still pumping you full of cock and impaling you as he thrusted those hips upward, all while forcing you down on that shaft. “Thereee we go…so fucking tight. Wrapped around my dick like this.” That cunt clutching him with all you had, so much so, it’d make him toss his head back. You could tell it was taking its toll, by the loud grunting and grip on your ass. Not to mention the veins bulging from his forehead.

“Gonna have you so full…put all my cum in this pussy. Ready for that, baby? Huh?” Asking the question before using all of his strength to hammer up into you; jolting that body around.

“Yes! Come in me, come in this fucking pussy!” Whimpering whilst your nails dredged into the skin, clawing their way through as you attempted to brace yourself. You could feel that tip thrashing against your sensitive core, pulsating inside of you. You were still trickling down his shaft and came one more time before he was unable to hold out any longer. Gritting his teeth and trembling himself, Reiner made a split second decision to lie you back on the bed and pull you into a mating press. Hieverimh above you with a foot planted onto the bed as he buried every inch of that big cock inside of you. Suddenly, you’d feel him come to a halt..breath hitching in the back of his throat. Suddenly, you’d feel something pouring inside of you and it was the warming sensation of his nut spilling into your womb. He had been holding back not only from tonight but all the days that practice and school had kept him away from you. Brushing the side of his face, you’d talk him through his orgasm as he clutched the sheets. Telling him how good it felt and that you loved when he filled you up.

“Thank you, daddy..feels so good.”

the next thing you knew, he’d collapse beside you before roping you into a passionate, deep fledged kiss. Even cradling the side of your head as you both came down from your highs. There wasn’t a better feeling than this..

“I love you so much…you know that, right?” Declaring between long winded, baited huffs as he held you close to his chest. He’d place soft, tender pecks on your temple and lovingly caress your skin with all the gentleness in the world. A far cry from what had just transpired. Despite his rough handling and aggression, he still harbored deep, immense love for you. Love that no one else could ever replicate or even dream of giving you. Not even your ex..

“I love you more than anything, (y/n)..I’m sorry I got so worked up but it’s just what you do to me..”

“Oh Rei…I love you more. Please, don’t apologize…I’m not going anywhere. You’re the only one I want and ever will. Believe me when I say that.”

and wherever he was, that was the side you wanted to be on. The winning team..

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

Overprotective!Yandere X GN!Reader

Women in the office gawked at Theo as he walked by, shamelessly refusing to peel their eyes from the Adonis who walked among them. With dark wavy hair that framed his beauty mark speckled face and droopy emerald eyes always set into a warm smile, he was model material, yet refused to believe it. Theo was kind to everyone he spoke to, but no one could gain his full attention, and affection. That was reserved for his one and only best friend ❤️

❤️ Theo who was Reader's best friend since kindergarten

💀 Every life path Reader took, Theo took as well. They were his best friend, he just happened to have the same interests as Reader!

❤️ Besides, he didn't go to the same college as them and got into the same company in the same sales department just because he was good at numbers like Reader... he also needed to protect them!

💀 Reader was always a hard worker, they would often forget to eat meals while working overtime and would only sleep two hours a night if Theo wasn't there to gently keep them on track

❤️ And despite everyone referring to Reader as a cynical workaholic, Theo knew deep down that they were far too trusting

💀 Remember that girl in grade four who confessed to Reader at recess? Reader turned her down far too kindly! They made her think it was actually okay to be friends! Thank goodness Theo was there to threaten the kid to stay away protect his best friend from that weirdo

❤️ People often mistook the pair of besties for a couple, and that was just ridiculous!

💀 Yeah, the idea of Reader calling Theo their husband, kissing Reader's forehead each and every night, and instead of just tucking them into bed joining them in their shared bed made his heart clench in a funny way... they were just friends!

❤️ Just friends that were also roommates. The economy is terrible right now, just because they make enough money to live alone, didn't it make more sense to live together and save money?

💀 And Theo enjoyed cooking nutritional meals for his best friend! No instant ramen for Reader while Theo's around!

❤️ No, it wasn't jealousy whenever someone started hitting on Reader, he was just worried for them!

"Don't you think Jackson's a bit... creepy?" Theo asked his buddy while prepping dinner one night. Reader glanced up from their work laptop only briefly.

"Why do you say that?"

"Ah, I don't mean to sound rude! I'm sorry.. I just overheard him saying something pretty gross about Mrs. Kim.."

Jackson had asked Reader to grab a drink with him sometime just the other day, and he seemed like a genuinely kind dude. But Reader trusted Theo with their life, and wouldn't question anything he ever said, believing their best friend was simply incapable of lying. Reader grunted and went back to work, and Theo knew by that sound his bestie wasn't going out with Jackson anytime soon.

💀 Theo who could never admit to anyone, not even himself, that his relationship with Reader wasn't a healthy "friendship"

❤️ Convincing himself that his actions were completely normal things for friends to do was almost a full time job

💀 Sometimes he watched Reader sleep, admiring how their eyelashes fluttered as they dreamt ensuring that they were actually sleeping and not sneaking onto their computer

❤️ And breaking down into full blown hysterics when Reader doesn't text him back is just because he's so worried for them

💀 Reader always saw the error in their ways though, apologizing profusely when they finally came home from grocery shopping and seeing the results of forgetting to charge their phone

❤️ It was an especially hard day when Theo had to cut off his own mother. She said Theo was codependent on Reader! Reader doesn't know this though, they just heard that Theo's mother was criticizing their friendship

Reader was stopped at the front door, Theo draping his large frame over his best friend, his large eyes watering. "Please don't leave, (Reader)."

They sighed, wriggling an arm free to mess with Theo's hair. "The fridge is almost empty, dude."

"But it's raining outside!" Theo raised is voice unintentionally as he began to panic, spiraling into an anxiety attack. "What if you get sick? Please just stay home, I can order take out. Let's go shopping tomorrow!"

"Theo.."

"Please!" A sob choked out of the man as he seemingly lost his strength, collapsing against Reader as he stained their jacket with his tears. "I just want to keep you safe!"

Reader gave in, as they always did, guilt stabbing at their heart until they could calm Theo down and convince him they weren't leaving.

Even if Reader never fell in love with Theo, the man would be content just to be by Reader's side, forever being their one and only best friend. As long as he could continue protecting them, from bad dates conspiring to ruin Reader's life, from management that continuously accepted Reader's overtime volunteering, and from Reader's own silly bad choices... Theo was happy.

[sunsetsturniolos]

Oneshot: Matt confronting you after you start getting quiet. You’ve been getting insecure and you feel like you’re holding him back. This hot ass man is sweet as fuck tho!!!

talk to me - matt sturniolo x fem reader

a/n: took my own little twist on this :) sorry is there are any mistakes!

warnings: mentions of toxic childhood, not eating, hate comments, insecurities. if you are going through any of this please talk to someone! my inbox is always open if you need some to rant to 💞

as always my inbox is open for requests, but other than that, enjoy!

lots of love,

m💌💌💌

it had been about 2 weeks since you and the triplets have done anything together. every time they asked you to do something that involved getting ready nicely you shut them down. this wasn’t like you, normally you were a very bubbly and happy person who was always jumping at opportunities to do something fun, so you knew they were starting to get suspicious but you just brushed it off and moved on.

lately you’ve been feeling very insecure with yourself. you grew up in a toxic environment, which lead to you always having the thought in the back of your head that you weren’t good enough. recently, you’d been in some of the triplets videos, and the hate had been adding to this. you’d stopped eating as much, cutting down to a few snacks a day, maybe a whole meal if you were lucky. it’d been like this for a while, and while you hated doing this to yourself, you couldn’t bring yourself to stop.

a few days had passed and matt was starting to get worried. he knew you were struggling at the moment but he didn’t realise it was this bad. the triplets ordered canes for dinner last night, and while matt thought you ate your meal and didn’t finish because your stomach was hurting, he was wrong. he found your entire meal in the bin the next morning and suddenly everything made sense. he’s been trying to muster up the words and courage of what to say to you. he knew he had to do something, he couldn’t bare to see his beautiful girl going through this. he waited a while before finally going to your guys’ shared bedroom, already finding you sat on the bed, phone in hand. you had bags under your eyes. you’d lost a lot of weight, you weren’t yourself anymore.

“hey baby, can we talk?” matt stuttered,

“uh, yeah of course,” you hesitantly replied, these kind of conversations always made you nervous. “uhm i don’t really know how to start this, but i saw all of your food from last night in the trash, i thought you ate some of it?” matt asked.

shit. you thought.

“oh eh i just wasn’t that hungry thats all.” you quickly replied, hoping to end the conversation.

matt knew that was all bullshit.

“love, you and i both know that isn’t true,” he spoke.

oh you were screwed.

“talk to me baby, whats going on?” he carried on, adding a comforting hand to your thigh, you tensed under his touch.

tears started to well up in your eyes, you knew you couldn’t keep it in anymore, you had to tell him. “i’ve just been feeling a bit insecure recently, i mean you’ve seen the comments right? everyone thinks i’m fat!” you’d broken down by now. matt’s face was drained with guilt. “baby those comments don’t mean anything! your the most gorgeous girl i know! they’re just jealous, mean 12 year olds! please don’t let them affect you. everyone loves you so much, nick loves you, chris loves you, and i love you more than anything! this isn’t healthy, you need to eat.” matt was right. “i know, i just didn’t know what to do.” it was a lame excuse and you knew it, but you had nothing else to say. “please talk to me next time, you know i’m always here for you,” he reassured, you lazily nodded.

“i love you matt.” “i love you more baby, why don’t we go get ice cream from down the street, your favourite?” matt smiled. “that sounds great honey, thank you.” you blushed.

matt quickly kissed you forehead and grabbed his keys from the dresser. he held his hand out for you as you got up and interlocked fingers, making your way to the car.

what would you do without this boy.

tags: @sturnioloslurps @lacysturniolo @lewisroscoelove @55sturn @freshloveforthefit @lanai3mother

[perlelune]

Oxytocin | Coriolanus Snow | iii.

One act of kindness from a peacekeeper may be your salvation or your doom. Possibly both.

Warnings: NON-CON, Blackmail, District 8 Reader, Stalking, Kidnapping

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

Staccato breaths mingle with the wild drumming of your heart as Coriolanus takes you to a place unknown, so far from where you live on the outskirts of town.

The freezing air sneaks under your skirt, causing your legs to tremble. Wherever you look, you’re surrounded by darkness, a cluster of clouds cloaking the moon now.

It reminds you how utterly alone you are.

Your tears soak the blue shirt of his uniform but he doesn’t seem to care. In your current upside down position, you can’t see his expression and it scares you even more. 

You wonder what he’s thinking, why he’s doing this and, most importantly, what his plans are for you.

“Where are you taking me?” you inquire, your wavering voice dripping fear.

“It’s a surprise,” he announces, readjusting you on his shoulders.

You don’t like his tone, not one bit. It’s taunting with a sliver of resentment. 

Somehow, you pissed him off at the bar and he wants to make you pay for it. Punish you for…for what exactly? It eludes you. All you did was dance with some guy and Coriolanus saw red.

You knew the peacekeeper was strange, but this is a step beyond that. He stole you. In public. It’s insane, deranged.

Lights finally pierce through the veil of the night, twinkling through the hazy obscurity. A faint shred of hope glimmers inside you. If there are people here, maybe you could shout for help, appeal to basic human decency. Back at the bar, no one would help you.

Part of you understands. This is the kind of fear the Capitol has instilled in everyone in Panem.

Still, a hint of bitterness lingers inside you. Not even Yara lifted a finger to help you. You thought she was your friend. But you suppose even that is asking for too much for someone like you. Even that is a luxury far beyond your means. 

You confine tears. You do not wish to give the peacekeeper the satisfaction of seeing you fall apart. 

He enters a building with bright lanterns scattered at its front. The smell of incense, cigarette and expensive perfume engulfs your senses, so overwhelming you can hardly breathe. A woman appears in your line of sight. She’s strikingly gorgeous. Glossy, raven curls frame her heart-shaped face and heavy makeup adorns her delicate features. She wears a low-cut red dress that must cost at least two months of your wages. 

You frown, dull remembrance tugging at your brain.

Something about her is vaguely familiar. 

Then it dawns on you, and your stomach coils in dread.

You’ve seen her before, at a bar in the northeastern part of town. She was working her charms on a man who slipped her a bag of coins before they disappeared together.

The urge to puke tickles the back of your throat. A brothel. Coriolanus has taken you to a brothel.

“Is our room ready?” he addresses the woman, impatience bleeding through his tone.

“It’s all been prepared like you asked, Mr. Snow,” she trills.

“Help me, please…” you beseech. 

She tilts her head, a wide grin unfurling on her crimson-painted lips. 

“She’s a pretty thing, your lass. Almost as pretty as you.”

Coriolanus reaches inside his pocket. The clinking of coins resonates as he drops a tiny purse in the woman’s hand.  “Don’t disturb us,” he instructs.

She grabs the purse and beams at him.

“Wasn’t planning to.” Her cheerful inflection makes your stomach sink. “Our clients’ privacy is of the utmost priority.” 

“Let me go you mon-”

The woman giggles. “She chirps an awful lot, that bird of yours.”

He heaves out a deep sigh, both weary and resigned. “She needs discipline, which is exactly why we’re here.”

His words do nothing to reassure you. You thrash again, legs flailing and hands reaching for any parts of him you can. He groans but doesn’t release you. He stomps upstairs.

Your mind runs wild as your fear grows. Soon, the blond reaches an ornate black door. He kicks it open with his boot. Once inside, he tosses you onto the canopy bed in the middle of the room. He slams the door closed and locks it. Your blood runs cold.

Without much thought, you clamber off the bed, awkwardly getting to your feet and heading straight for the door.

He grabs the back of your neck and yanks you away from the door. A strangled shout leaps from your throat.

Coriolanus peers down at you, bent in an uncomfortable position beneath him.

A look of mild annoyance decorates his handsome face.

“Still trying to run away? You never learn your lesson, pretty bird.”

“Let me go,” you croak, your pleading eyes searching for pity in his icy gaze. But you’re only greeted by contempt. Tears swell under your eyelids. “Why are you doing this to me?”

He snorts, like he can’t believe you’d ask something so ludicrous. He narrows his eyes at you, the fingers clamped around your nape squeezing harder.

“Why? Because you’ve been ungrateful,” he hisses.

Befuddlement trickles within you. “Ungrateful?”

Coriolanus’ jaw ticks.

“I help you, I save you.” A storm gathers in his enraged tone. “I do so much for you but you bat your lashes at some pathetic district scum?”

You cower beneath his accusing stare, in disbelief at what you’re hearing. Your lips clamp shut, your mouth quivering before you retaliate, “I’m district scum too.” You squint at him. “I’m district scum too so what do you even want with me, Coriolanus?”

He chuckles darkly, wrenching your head so far backwards, your neck starts singing in pain. He sinks to one knee, scrutinizing your shaking form on the floor. 

“What do I want with you?” he echoes. His hold on your neck loosens to latch around your jaw instead. His scorching blue gaze dives into yours as his voice dips, whisper-soft. “Tell me, sweet bird, am I that repulsive to you?” Puzzled, you blink. Why does he even care what you think of him? 

Your silence has him jostle your frame, as if trying to shake a reply out of you.

“Answer me,” he growls.

An hasty, breathless response tumbles out of you. “No.”

You hardly had to think, needing to simply utter the truth. Of course, Coriolanus is handsome, a feast for the eyes like a prince from a fairytale, with his smooth skin, free of any blemish, bright blue eyes and angular features. It’d be hard to deny how beautiful he is.

…But he’s not a prince, and you're not in a fairytale.

As your eyes lower, his fingers dig harshly into your cheeks.

“Look at me.” There’s a sharp edge of authority to his words. You lift your gaze, too terrified to dare divert your attention from him. He continues. “Do you find my face disgusting, my voice unbearable?” His mouth twitches. “Maybe it’s my smell. Is it atrocious?”

Tears dangle at your lashes as you mutter, “No.”

“Then why?” A blend of dismay and anger paints his features. “Why do you always run away from me? Why don’t you just let me take care of you?”

“I don’t need you. I never needed you.”

His orbs flare dangerously. You shriek as he hauls you from the floor and hurls you on the bed. 

“This is where you’re wrong. You live because of me. Your cousin lives because of me.” He begins removing the blue vest of his uniform, his motions irate and rushed. A lump nestles in your throat as you watch him zip down his pants next. “You owe me, and it’s about time you show me some gratitude.”

This time your attempt to flee is curtailed by a steely grip on your ankle. A knife-like sensation pierces your limb as he twists it cruelly. The pain knocks the wind from your lungs. You freeze and go limp over the sheets.

The blond’s forehead puckers, a contrite look flickering over his features.

“You’re making me do this. I don’t want to hurt you, but you’re making me.”

He squeezes your shoulder and forces you to sit up at the edge of the bed. The air chills around you as he tugs down his white boxers, revealing his long, thick girth, glistening at the tip. You gulp the lump in your throat.

Your fingers clasp around the end of the bed as you gape at his erect cock. The vein along the shaft seems to taunt you. Cupping the side of your face, he nudges his tip against your wobbling lips.

“Open up,” he orders. He sneers when you don’t move an inch, “So stubborn…I can’t tell if I love or hate that about you, pretty bird.”

“Please…” you mumble, your glistening eyes rising to meet his.

He purrs, lust clouding his sky blue orbs. His thumb skims over your bottom lip.

“You’re even prettier when you beg me, birdie.” His tone mellows as he offers, “Open your mouth and I’ll make sure you never want for anything.”

Your mouth remains adamantly sealed. 

Studying you, he ponders, “I’ve always found the punishment for thievery needlessly harsh.” He unleashes a dragged out, ponderous exhale. “For shame, I’m not sure your cousin will last very long here without you.” Your heart threatens to spill from your chest. A wicked, lopsided smile blooms on his lips as he fondles your cheek. “It’s a tough world, especially for a little girl all on her own, wouldn’t you say?”

Your chest collapses at his blatant threat. Even if your own fate mattered little to you, you can’t imagine Tilly fending for herself here. You’re all she has now and if she can’t rely on you, who will she be able to rely on?

Besides, she might be better now but she always had a fragile health. Someone needs to look out for her. And it has to be you.

It’s as if Coriolanus could hear every thought bouncing in your head, smugness oozing off him as he observes you. 

Your lips part slowly. Victory illuminates his features.

He pumps his shaft, excitement bouncing in his orbs.

As he pushes his tip into your mouth, a hum of pleasure vibrates in his chest. You feel it through your own body and a shudder passes through you. 

You quiver as you swirl your tongue around his leaking tip, silently wishing he’ll be quick about it. Maybe if you do it well enough, it won’t last long and he’ll leave you be.

Still, embarrassment pools in your gut. You’re letting a peacekeeper treat you like a common whore. You doubt your dignity will ever recover from this ordeal.

He grabs both sides of your face, impatient, pushing more of himself down your throat. Your mouth aches at the corners, the size of him nearly too much to bear. 

“Fuck, your mouth feels good,” he rasps, his Adam’s apple bobbing. 

He slides his entire length down your throat until it tickles the back of it. You fight your gag reflex. The salty taste of him spreads on your tongue as you choke on his cock, air flailing in your lungs. He licks his lips, gently stroking your tear-stained cheeks.

“Good girl”, he praises.

He starts fucking your mouth, bruising your throat with each forceful thrust. Tears and spit mingle around your mouth as you take him as well as you can. You grow numb, eyes half-seeing as you let him use you.

Coriolanus’s throaty moans fill the room. The echo of his blunt thrusting reaches your ears. You feel sick. 

You close your eyes, hoping to forget, but all you can see is him, hear is him, feel is him.

You wish you could climb out of your own skin.

His pounding turns more feral. Cradling the back of your head, he shoves himself more urgently inside you. His chest ripples as he grunts.

You weep, suffocating on his length. Your stifled cries join the lewd sounds he makes. Your fists tighten around the sheets as your vision dims.

His motions become sloppier as he snarls, a look of sheer bliss decorating his handsome face.

His cock twitches, his eyes rolling back. A warm stickiness glazes the inside of your mouth. A groan leaves him as ropes of him pour down your throat. When you try to pull back, he firmly keeps you there, framing your face so you can’t escape.

The excess trickles on your chin and neck.

You shudder, quaking sobs wracking your body.

A wet sound resonates when his softening cock finally exits your mouth. You inhale a wide lungful, thankful to be able to breathe again but disgusted by the bittersweet aftertaste still coating your tongue. You wish you could bleach the inside of your mouth many times over. 

He collects your tears with his thumbs, his smile growing as he basks in the sight of the mess he made on your face.

“I’m going to take such good care of you, my sweet bird,” he croons.

You plunge your hands in the frigid water, roughly rubbing the clothes against one another. You focus on a willful beer stain that won’t come off no matter how much you try. Frustration blooms inside you as the brown lingers on the beige fabric.

You grimace. This was one of your nicer blouses. Now it’s forever ruined, tainted beyond recovery.

Yara wrings her skirt above the bucket, her attentive eyes clinging to you. When she offered to do laundry together this morning, you expected a plethora of questions. Instead, she spent the last hour mirroring your silence.

You’re grateful. While her presence soothes you, there are many topics you’d rather not broach. One in particular. A memory you went to great lengths to bury but won’t let itself be erased. You feel branded, like you don’t belong to yourself anymore.

It’s a ghastly prospect, one you have no desire to mull over too deeply. 

You’d rather focus on laundry today. Washing, rinsing, drying and repeating. The tedious routine keeps the scary thoughts at bay. At least for a little while.

“Tilly’s doing a lot better.”

Yara’s abrupt words stagger you. Your head snaps up. Your focus veers to your younger cousin. She’s sitting by the fire playing noughts and crosses with her friend. The two little girls are wrapped up in the thin lines they’re drawing with white chalk on the stone floor, concentration etched on their small features.

She has been doing better. Much better than she has the entire year, though it guts you to admit it. She can laugh, play, run and be a normal kid.

…And you have the little care packages Coriolanus has been dropping on your doorstep to thank for that.

It stuns you that he even found out where you live so easily. You thought you were careful.

Now you don’t even feel safe in your own modest home.

There is nowhere to hide from the peacekeeper.

While he hasn’t shown up in person, his presence hovers over every aspect of your life.

You live because of me.

“Yeah,” you reply tritely.

Hands going still in the water, Yara observes you for a while, hesitation wrinkling her features. 

Eventually she dips her head, averting her gaze as she mumbles, “I shouldn’t have let him take you away.”

Guilt bleeds through her tone. Sighing, you peer at her. While you resented being on your own, you’re also keenly aware there is nothing she could have done.

“It’s not your fault,” you reassure. “I’d be scared too. I am scared,”

Though sadness still glistens in her eyes, she nods.

“Did he…” She trails off, sucking in a deep breath as if to gather the courage to speak again. Her gaze meets yours head on. “D-Did he hurt you?”

Goosebumps erupt at the base of your spine, spreading outward as your mouth trembles. 

“In a way,” you answer belatedly.

Shock covers her features.

“We should tell Commander Crane…”

You scowl. “We can’t.”

Not only does the ruthless Commander of District 8 harbors little to no sympathy for anyone’s plight, he may be more concerned about your thievery charges than any misdeed carried out by one of his Peacekeepers.

Such are things in District 8. Unjust and bereft of any morsel of hope.

“But we have to do something, report him,” she insists.

Irritation nips at you. You wish she’d drop it. It’s not like anyone will come to your rescue. You’re not some damsel in distress, a precious lady from the Capitol in trouble. 

You’re no one. Some might even say district garbage.

“Yara, he’s some rich kid from the Capitol, and I’m…we’re just…” The words shrivel on your tongue, hopelessness cresting within you. “It’s best to leave it alone, trust me.”

“But…”

“It'll only get worse if I fight him,” you snap.

A puzzled expression appears on your friend’s face. “Worse in what way?”

In what way indeed? You’ve no idea how far Coriolanus Snow is willing to go to torment and toy with you. There’s a glint of madness in his blue eyes which haunts your nightmares.

You go quiet. 

You pick up the drenched blouse from the bucket of water, wringing it until your hands start to hurt. 

Yara’s soft voice rises, encouragement laced in her tone.

“Hey, I’m sure he’ll get bored at some point, move on,” she says. “I mean he has to, right?”

She smiles at you and you return it.

“Right.”

But deep inside, you’re not so sure, dire thoughts of pretty boys with devilish smiles swaying in your mind.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Three for One 8

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, cheating, customer service abuse, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: As a customer service associate, you’re used to work with a wide variety of characters. Your efforts to go above and beyond draw the attention of a certain set of customers who want more than what’s on the shelf.

Character: Andy Barber, Lloyd Hansen, Ransom Drysdale

Note: Almost to the holiday.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me 💞

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

“Well,” Ransom stops in the doorway as you stand on the tile, Ernie at your heels, “grab a bowl for the damn dog.”

You look at him but say nothing. Ernie isn’t mean without reason so you hardly feel bad for him. He must’ve done something really bad to make the giant sweetheart into such a beast.

You go to the counter and reach to the cupboard. He doesn’t offer any direction as you find only glasses and mugs inside. You move to the next; dry goods and cans. You shift back the other way and pop open another door; there’s a stack of bowls inside. A bit small but it’ll have to do.

As you clasp the edge of the bowl, you feel a sudden presence behind you. Before you can react, Ransom is against you, his arms hooking under yours as he cups your tits in his hands. He rocks with you as Ernie snarls.

“Get the dog to shut up,” he squeezes. “Or I’ll feed it bleach.”

You call Ernie’s name. He gives one last rumble but quiets. You set the bowl on the counter as Ransom leans into you, nuzzling your head as he fondles you. You hope he can’t feel your heart pounding.

“Mmm, they feel just as nice as they look. Why don’t you slip that sweater off so I can get a taste,” he pushes you against the counter, “you give that fuzzy-lipped bastard the good stuff–”

“Goddamnit,” Andy’s hiss cuts through the tension. Ransom sighs onto your hair, giving a tweak through the wool before reluctantly parting, “keep your hands to yourself.”

“Oh, come on,” Ransom spins and stomps his foot, “what are we even waiting for? We do all this–” He gestures with his hand, “and you’re bossing me around like a child.”

“You are,” Andy accuses as he approaches and puts down the bag of kibble on the counter, “I salvaged what I can,” he says to you directly.

“Um, thank you,” you swallow. He smiles before he faces the other man again, “we haven’t even opened our presents.”

Ransom narrows his eyes as his cheek ticks. He arches a brow and shrugs, “fine. So why don’t we get it over with?”

“Breakfast first,” Andy insists. “It’s tradition.”

“Who’s fucking tradition?”

“They have to start somewhere, don’t they?” Andy challenges. 

You frown. Tradition. You really hope you don’t have time to build any of those.

“Honey, you stay, help me with breakfast,” Andy turns his back on Ransom, “the other two can get the table ready…” he pauses and looks over his shoulder, “you can handle that, can’t you?”

Ransom’s nostrils flare and he bares his teeth. He kind of reminds you of Ernie when he does that. The dog tilts his head curiously as he watches the scene, ignorant of the words but sensing the vibes.

“You’d be surprised what I’m capable of,” Ransom growls. “Have fun playing fucking house.”

He storms off, his shoulder hitting the door frame in his anger and drawing a grunt from him. You flinch and bring your hands up to wring. Andy tuts and faces the counter, glancing over at you.

“Are you alright, honey?” He asks, letting his hand fingers flutter to the edge of your cuff.

“Yeah,” you answer smally. That’s what he wants. For you to be helpless, to need him. And you do, just not the way he intends. “He… he isn’t nice like you.”

The corners of his lips curve just a little as his eyes search you, “you think so?”

You nod and slide the bowl off the counter, “I’m going to feed Ernie.”

“Alright,” he relents and takes a step back, “uh, yeah, he’s probably starving.”

You move around Andy and dip the bowl into the bag of kibble. He clears his throat and goes to work, pulling down ingredients. Nothing fancy. He sets a box of pancake batter as he pulls the waffle maker away from the wall. Your stomach growls loudly and Andy grins in your direction.

“You too, huh?”

You smile over the bowl of kibble in your hands, “a little, yeah.” You turn to Ernie as he sniffs the air and drools. You go to him and bend your knees to put the bowl on the floor. You know he’s watching. Good, he’s just as simple as the others.

🎀

You’re the only one who seems interested in the meal. Only because it gives you something to focus on to keep your imagination from straying too far. Of course, you’re not as stupid as these men think. You know all too well their intent. Yet there efforts continue to confound you.

You offer to clean up. Another excuse to keep yourself busy. Away from them. Andy insists that he does that task and sends you off the other two to the front room. You’re less than eager to walk between them as they get closer and closer, nearly squishing you as you reach your destination.

You flit away from them and claim a spot in the lone armchair. Ernie follows and sits at your feet. He keeps his head up, panting as he watches the men and you avoid looking at them altogether. Lloyd strolls along the mantle and sucks his teeth as Ransom sits on the extension of the sectional.

“Fucking lame…” Lloyd mutters.

“Tell me about it,” Ransom agrees, the clink of dishes sounding from the kitchen.

You hate to admit it so you won’t, but they’re right. 

Your eyes drift along and settle on the tree. There are a slew of wrapped gifts underneath. They weren’t there the day before.

The awkward silence doesn’t last long as Andy emerges. He looks around, tucking his hands in his pockets as he takes in the room. He’s not in his typical suit. You didn’t take time to notice before but he looks cozy. He wears a blue sweater and a pair of jeans a shade darker. It makes him look softer than usual.

You check the other men. They’re not very festive. They wear what you can only assume is their usual look. Lloyd in a tight black tee which does little to conceal the buds of his nipples. Your gaze wants to fixate there but you resist that odd temptation. He’s paired the dark top with a pair of pine striped ankle pants and velvet loafers. You call it douche formal. The customers who dress like that usually don’t even understand how to check the website.

Then Ransom. Not too dissimilar to Andy but still himself. An ivory sweater with brown pants, a locket peeking out below his collar from the slim gold chain around his neck. It screams rich prick trying too hard to look like he’s not trying.

The one thing these men have in common is their ignorance. They don’t know, they never considered that you can read them. You spent years in retail, you know people. A little more than you like. They took your demeanour as innocent and naive, they don’t consider it as defensive.

“Alright, finally, let’s open some presents,” Andy claps his hands together.

“Before we start,” Lloyd leans beside the mantle, “I have a question?”

Andy looks at him, waiting.

“Shouldn't you be doing this with your family–”

“Shut the fuck up,” Andy snaps but stops himself, showing his palm, “that’s not for you to worry about.”

“I’m looking out for you–”

“I know what you’re doing,” Andy points at him.

Lloyd snickers.

“I’d like to make a suggestion,” Ransom stands, Ernie tense as he does. They look at each other. “Can we put the dog away?

All three men look at Ernie. You look back at them as you reach to pet the dog’s broad head.

“He’s not hurting anyone,” you plead.

“Not yet,” Ransom scoffs.

“Look, pussy cat, you’re lucky that thing’s even here.”

You want to scowl and bite back. They knew you had a dog when they took you. You mentioned him several times. It’s not exactly your fault they didn’t factor him into the equation.

“We don’t want him to get worked up,” Andy assuages, “why don’t you take him to your room for now? We wouldn’t want him to ruin any of your gifts.”

“He won’t,” you argue, not quick enough to stop yourself. “He’s trained.

“I know, honey, but just for a little. He can come back out later.”

“Yeah, or I can drive him out to the highway,” Lloyd snorts.

You furrow your brow at him. He snickers as your anger amuses him. You quickly wipe it away. You can’t lose your cool yet. You slowly get up, stepping over Ernie and exposing a bit too much thigh. You call the dog’s name but he doesn’t move. He knows something’s wrong.

You bend and grab his collar, “come on, buddy, please.”

At first he doesn’t budge but relents as you coax him with quiet whispers. He lets you lead him out, dragging his large paws with your less than urgent pace. You get to the open bedroom and look inside.

“Sorry, Ern,” you say as you nudge him ahead, “it’ll be okay, I promise. Mama take care of you.”

He goes into the room and turns to stare back at you with his doe eyes. You want to melt into a puddle. He’s so cute and sweet. He doesn’t deserve all this. If it was just you, you’d fight, but you have to worry about him. 

You shut the door and go back to the living room. The men seem anxious as you enter. Ransom pinches the locket around his neck between his fingers, Andy smooths the front of his sweater with his large hand, and Lloyd digs his heel into the floor as he picks his fingernail.

“Alright,” Andy exhales as he faces you, “so, honey, you start.”

You blink at him and cross your arms. You don’t know what he means. You glance around, between each of them.

“Open a gift,” Andy steps back and gestures to the tree, “they’re all for you.”

Your stomach churns and your heart flips. Something about this is off. Not just that you’ve been abducted or this weird house with locks on the doors and deafening walls. More than these men and their incessant leers. There’s more than a dozen presents, for you alone, but why?

“Me?” You pull your arms apart and force them down to your sides, clutching the weave of the sweater dress.

“Go on,” Lloyd encourages with a wink.

You restrain yourself as best you can. Fear courses through you as you try to unravel their riddle. What are they up to? They’re watching you like wolves, prowling, ready to pounce, so why don’t they?

You tiptoe forward and as you near Andy, he stays exactly where he is. You brush against him and feel his breath fan over you. You pass Ransom as he once more sits on the foot of the sectional. 

You stop before the tree and consider the array of gifts; boxes, bags, and wrapped bundles. It’s the sort of haul any child dreams of. You remember the Christmas Eves you lay awake sleepless hoping for just this. Waking to only a new pair of socks and a couple toiletries from the group home. You didn’t often get what you wanted, but you could get by with what you needed.

You bend your knees, the hem of the sweater rising up your thighs as you reach for a small box. You stand and turn to the men, staring down at the red box with a gold bow on top. You gulp and peek up at them. They all just watch. 

You wiggle the lid until it pops off. You reveal a pair of dangling pearl earrings. They’re pretty. Probably real but you don’t have the eye to tell. You peer up again, confused. It’s actually a very nice gift.

“Who’s it from?” Andy asks.

You flinch and check the tag. You should’ve done that first. You pull it straight as it hides under the tail of the bow, “Ransom,” you read.

“Ha!” He claps his hands, together then on his knees, “fuck yeah.”

“Huh?” You utter dumbly.

“Shit,” Lloyd mutters and Andy lets his disappointment flow out heavily.

“What…” you can’t finish the question.

“Pretty nice gift, huh?” Ransom taunts, “so, uh, what’s my gift, sweetheart?”

You grimace and examine the wall behind him, “I don’t… have anything…”

“Actually,” he interjects, “I think you do. Why don’t you pop those on, then pop your tits out?”

You gape at him. He bites his lip as you stand dumbfounded and humiliated. Lloyd chuckles and Andy growls as he paces, sitting in the armchair.

“I don’t…”

“It’s an exchange, not free for all, you got yours. I get mine,” he tilts his head, “so put those on and let me fuck your tits.”

You close your mouth. You’re not surprised but you’re not ready either. You didn’t expect them to hold out forever but you need more time. The problem is they’re not playing by your schedule, you have to adjust to yours. That means, you’ll be working from behind.

“I’m waiting,” Ransom huffs, “you know, you’re being pretty ungrateful there, sweetheart.”

Andy plants his elbow on the armrest as you look at him, “do it.”

“But…” you pout, “you said…”

“He gave you a gift,” Andy said. “He won’t hurt you. I’m here.”

You nearly drop the box. What does he mean he won’t hurt you? You don’t want to do that.

Well…

You don’t have a choice. As rotten as it is, it will only be worse if you refuse. You lower your chin and nod. You turn to set the box down on the small table just beside the couch, too close to Ransom. He snickers as you hear his zipper whisper down. Oh god.

You pull out your plain gold hoops and replace them with the teardrop pearls. You feel them dangle between your fingertips and raise your head. Worse than what you’re about to do is the audience. This isn’t just you being violated, this is that violation being witnessed.

You walk along the sectional and Ransom catches your wrist, pulling you forward impatiently. He turns you to face him. Your eyes widen as you try not to look lower than you need to. His cock bobs at the edge of your vision.

“Take this off,” he touches the hem of the dress.

You spread your sweaty palms over the wool. Slowly, you tug it upwards. Your skin speckles with goosebumps as you reveal your nakedness to the room. You stand only in the knee highs and panties.

“Damn,” Lloyd clucks, “an ass on this one.”

Andy doesn’t comment, he only hums as the chair creaks under his weight.

“Get down,” he orders.

You hold your breath and obey. You get to your knees as Ransom plays with himself. You can’t look him in the face and you definitely don’t want to look down. You stare instead at his sweater.

“Push your tits together,” he demands.

Again, you listen. It’s like you’re in a trance. The room is fuzzy and your body is hollow. He laughs again and taps his tip against your tits.

“Fuck, those are some nice tits,” he remarks, grabbing your shoulder to urge your closer.

He slips his dick between your cleavage. His throbbing head pokes up above the swell of flesh. He dips down and back up, rocking you by your shoulder as he guides you. You move with him, fighting back the tide of repulsion.

“That’s it,” he coaxes, “come on and give it a kiss, sweetheart.”

You flinch. He squeezes your shoulder. A warning. You bend your head and kiss his tip as it once more pokes above your cleavage. He groans and his hand moves to cover one of yours, making you grope yourself tighter.

“Fuck,” he rasp, “you know what…” he turns to Andy, reminding you of the others, of them watching you, “I think I get it now.” He winks at you as you fuck his length with your tits, “good fucking choice, Barber.”

[strawbeelemonade]

•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•

Imagine: going to a Garden centre/Plant Nursery with Miguel O’Hara

•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•

🕷 - No I don’t care if this is stupid. Yeah I just got back from a garden centre when writing this.

🕷 - They are so much fun, I don’t care if it’s a bit old person of me.

🕷 - This man is willing to do old people stuff with you.

🕷 - Your both wandering around and he keeps stopping to look a grills because it’s,,, he’d totally yearn for a grill. It’s a feeling. But he always moves on because he’d get angry at himself for wanting something domestic like that.

🕷 - He pushes around the cart.

🕷 - No get off he’s doing it.

🕷 - He will follow you, just get what you want babe.

🕷 - He’s not a plant guy, he’s never been a plant guy. But in this scenario you are DEFINITELY a plant person. So when you ask to go together he starts the car in a heartbeat.

🕷 - It’s like a little date.

🕷 - He always comes prepared. If you go in the spring or summer then you’ll definitely feel the heat.

🕷 - It hits him way harder, he’s much more sensitive in every way, so he sweats a lot more. Awooga.

🕷 - He’s got water on hand if you get thirsty. Your welcome babe.

🕷 - There are always people with dogs EVERYWHERE in these places. Watching you love on every dog you pass by makes him want to get a puppy.

🕷 - He acts like a cat, but I feel like he’s secretly a dog guy really deep down, you know.

🕷 - Every dog is obsessed with him, even if he shows no interest in petting them. it drives you up the wall.

🕷 - If anyone runs their cart into you he will beat ass.

🕷 - If anyone speaks to you disrespectfully he will beat ass.

🕷 - He is literally ready to beat so much ass at any given moment. Just because he’s nice to you doesn’t mean he’s like that with everyone else.

(I literally checked those 3 paragraphs multiple times to make sure I spelt ‘beat’ right.)

🕷 - His main personality trait is carrying heavy things for you.

🕷 - He doesn’t mind if you wanna peruse a bit… it’s ok since it’s you. He one of those people that will literally go with whatever. If your happy then he’s happy.

🕷 - He hardly gets time away from work. And his ‘night gig’ takes up a lot of his time too. Between all that and The Society… that doesn’t leave a lot of time for you. It makes him feel really guilty, So he is completely willing to do or buy whatever you’d like.

🕷 - He doesn’t understand why you keep trying to save wilting and dying plants. Why would you pay full price for a half dead orchid when there’s dozens of healthy ones right next to it??

🕷 - He doesn’t mind paying for it but he wants you to have the best. >:(

🕷 - When you both get home he’s reminded of why you do it.

🕷 - Your home is full of heathy, happy plants, nurtured by your loving hands. It’s a statement of the kind of person that you are. Full of love freely to give.

🕷 - He loves you so much.

🕷 - If your into propagating succulents he’ll point out all the random cuttings cascaded on the floor for you to grab. He likes seeing your eyes light up.

🕷 - you will leave that place with handfuls of cuttings.

🕷 - Free real estate babyyyy.

🕷 - Seeing all the kids totting along with their families makes his heart clench.

🕷 - One day you see a little boy ducking between some large pots, he seems to be hiding away from all the big shopping carts rolling by.

🕷 - Miguel sees him first, his heightened sense pick up on his nervousness almost immedietaly, but he hesitates.

🕷 - he’s not sure what to do, He doesn’t really know how to approach kids anymore.

🕷 - While he’s fighting an internal battle within himself, You swoop in.

🕷 - You ask if the kid is ok, and you take his hands and lift him out from between the stacked pots. He giggles and Miguel’s heart skips a beat.

🕷 - Miguel stands next to you awkwardly, watching in awe as you work your magic and make the kid laugh. You dry his tears and give him something to drink.

🕷 - He tells you he got separated from his mom in the confusion of all the crowd, and that he tried to stay put and wait for her to come back. You tell him how he’s such a smart boy, and that he was very brave.

🕷 - Miguel lifts him on to his shoulders silently so he can spot his parents. The man absolutely towers over all the plants. When he hears the kid giggling above him his the kid giggling above him his resting bitch face relaxes a bit.

🕷 - Miguel comes out of his shell a bit more as you both wait for his parents. The kid absolutely loves him. Miguel is starting at the sweet expression on your face as you chat with the kid and he is absolutely w i n d e d.

🕷 - has he ever told you that your really good with kids.,,

🕷 - haha.

🕷 - down bad fr.

🕷 - Then you spot Two women rushing towards you and they thank you both for finding and helping their son. And the moment is over.

🕷 - You assure them that it’s not a problem and you mention how sweet their child is.

🕷 - After you give a little wave you turn back to Miguel and he’s— wait.

🕷 - “Miggy, why are you looking at me like that?”

🕷 - “Like what, cariño?”

🕷 - Y e a r n i n g .

🕷 - Bro will literally drag you home, immedietely.

🕷 - Sorry not sorry.

•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_

[slasher-male-wife]

Slashers reacting to reader succumbing to Stockholm syndrome part two

So part one got a lot of notes and I wanted to write a part two, I'm also in a bit of a vampire hyperfixation thanks to Near dark so I'm including The Lost boys even though they wouldn't always kidnap their future s/o. This is again inspired by the lovely @slasherhaven, who's back from a long break. Anyway part one is here

Includes: Thomas Hewitt, Vincent Sinclair, Otis Driftwood and Jason Voorhees

Warnings: Stockholm syndrome, murder, slight gore descriptions in Otis's bit, reader is really far gone, manipulation kind of, kidnapping

Thomas Hewitt

Thomas went out early while you stayed in the house with Luda Mae. For the first few weeks of staying here all you did was cry and yell. But now months into living here you're more docile, quiet and afraid but docile enough. When Thomas returns to the house for lunch you're setting out plates on the table for everyone, with Monty watching over you. When you see Thomas you smile and finish setting down the plates and forks.

"Good to see you Thomas. I'm glad to see you're back in time for lunch. I helped make it today," You walk over to the door and stand before Thomas, he looks down at you confused. You rarely spoke to anyone in the house before this, and when you did it was a simple yes or no, "I'll be right back." You stand on your toes and press a kiss to his cheek before leaving the dining room.

Thomas takes a seat and looks over to Monty for any kind of clue as to what's going on, but he can't give him any answers.

Later that night you're getting ready for bed with Thomas. He's still confused about earlier and why you're so nice all of the sudden.

"Thomas," You say turning over to him. He just looks down at you and nods, "I wanted to thank you for taking care of me. I'm glad you chose to do this for me." All he can think to do is nod. He doesn't know what's going on with you, but he's not going to tell you to stop anytime soon.

Vincent Sinclair

When Vincent first wakes up he finds it odd that your arms are wrapped around him. In the two months you've been here you've never wanted any physical contact with him unless he forced it. Lately you've been more calm in a sense. The screaming and pleading to be let free awhile ago, but when he had to tie you to something in the basement to keep you from running you stopped trying to break the restraints two weeks ago.

He slowly shifts and you start to wake up. A smile spreads on your face while you stretch.

"Good morning Vincent," You say somewhat cheery compared to your past moods, "Did you sleep well?" He nods while looking into your eyes, trying to see if you're going to crack your act. But your smile stays and you push hair out of his face, "I'm glad. Is it ok if I walk upstairs with you today? I promise I'm not going to leave." Now he's really confused. Why are you so loving all of a sudden. He's never kept a victim around this long so he doesn't know if it's something common. He shakes his head and stands up out of bed.

He leaves the basement and locks the door behind him. Listening for a few minutes he doesn't hear you screaming or trying to break anything. When he leaves and returns 20 minutes later you're still in bed, sitting up now and studying a small wax figure.

"Welcome back Vincent." He just looks at you before setting down his food and coffee. He's going to have to talk to Bo about this. But if you're being genuine with your feelings then he's going to keep you around longer than he thought.

Otis Driftwood

He quickly picked up on the change in your mood. Although it was slow going and took some time, he saw what was happening and knew this was going to be fun, he's just been waiting for you to prove how deeply 'in love' with him you are.

He's busy working on cutting up a body, having sent you off to do something with Baby while he works when you walk back into his 'studio'. When he notices you, you don't look upset at all, despite a dead body laying dismembered mere feet away from you.

"Baby told me to come back here. I hope you don't mind," You say stepping back into the room and shutting the door. By now he's turned to you, you can see he's covered in blood and guts but you're so unfazed you walk right up to him and straight into a hug, catching him off guard and making him almost shove you off of him. Until you say, "I hope you don't mind me doing this," , blood undoubtedly soaking into your clothes, "I just needed a hug."

This is the tipping point for him. You seeing him actively working on a body he killed and still wanting his affection is enough to tell him that you're fully head over heels 'in love'. He smiles to himself and wraps his arms around you.

"Not at all sugar. Not at all."

Jason Voohees

Jason saw your slow change over time but didn't really see a need to ask you about it. You're becoming more accepting of the fact you're living with him now and you can't leave. Even with these new changes in attitude and you doing what he ask of you, you were still uncomfortable with physical contact.

That was until tonight. It's thundering hard outside as it pours. You've always been scared of severe weather and when you found Jason sitting on his couch you ran into his arms and onto his lap, slightly shaking. Catching him off guard he raises his arms as he looks down at you, looking back up at him with big watery eyes.

"I'm sorry Jason. I just really hate thunder storms. I can get up if you want me to." You begin to stand up when he pulls you back down against him, holding you in his arms now. If he was unsure about you 'loving' him before he knows now that you're truly dependent on him. And some part of his brain likes that. He likes the feeling of knowing you see him as your protector.

He wraps his arms around you tighter and begins to stroke your hair. Things are going to be made so much easier now that you're accepting of his affection.

[s0urw00lf]

Two peas in a pack : Magic bullet

Stiles stilinski x reader

An: I knowwww it’s been a while… do what to say and this wasn’t even hard to write… no excuse. Anyway enjoy!

    Scott Stiles and y/n were all sat in class as their teacher handed out test results. Stiles, who was sitting to y/ns right and behind Scott, tapped Scott on the shoulder getting his attention. "If Derek isn't the alpha, if he's not the one who bit you, then who is?" He asked, y/n nodded "Great question". Scott pondered for a second before answering "I don't know". Stiles sat back but quickly leaned forward again. "Did the alpha kill the bus driver?" He asked, and again Scott answered "I don't know"  Stiles sat back again exhaling dramatically loudly, before leaning up again "Does Allison's dad know-" he said but was cut off by Scott "i dont know!" He said way louder, attracting the attention of the whole class momentarily. The teacher had finally reached the trio, y/n looked down at her paper and smiled at the circled A+ at the corner of her paper, she looked over to Stiles and he showed his that just read A. Y/n smirked when she showed hers, laughing at the way stiles face dropped. Y/n took a quick glimpse at Scott while smiling and her smile immediately dropped, making Stiles turn to look. His face mirrored y/ns shock. "Dude you need to study more" Stiles said jokingly "Yeah Scott I knew you were failing, but I didn't think it was this bad" y/n said going along with Stiles's teasing "Okay we’re joking. Scott, it's one test. You're gonna make it up," stiles said trying to lift Scott's spirits, "He's right. Hey, I'll even help you study," Y/n said. Scott sighed "No it's okay, I'm studying with Allison today," Scott said nonchalantly. Stiles plastered a surprised expression on his face "That's my boy" he said making y/n groan. "We're just studying," Scott said shutting down what everyone knew Stiles was referring to. "Uh uh. No, you're not," he said pushing his case.

    "No, I'm not?" Scot said questioningly. "Not if I'm forced to live vicariously through you. If you go to her house today and squander that colossal opportunity, I swear to go I will have you de-balled" Stiles ranted. "Don't feel pressured Scott, it's nobody's fault Stiles can't get laid" y/n said, smirking when Stiles looked at her with one eye squinted. "Not like you can either y/n," he said arguing back. "Oh no I can, I just choose not to." She said widening her smirk. "Okay! Just stop with the questions man" Scott said interrupting the banter. "Done. No more questions... no more talk about the alpha or Derek. Especially Derek who still scares me." He said. As soon as y/n heard Stiles mention Derek y/n began to get an overwhelming sense that Derek was nearby. She immediately brushed it off not seeing how he'd be able to get in the school during school hours.

    the school had just let out and y/n followed Stiles to his jeep and laughed as he happily jumped in. He pulled out and began to drive out of the parking lot but was abruptly stopped by a very sickly-looking Derek Hale standing in the middle of the road holding his hand up as if to say "Stop". " you gotta be kidding me this guy everywhere" "Ok seriously this guy’s everywhere" y/n said at the same time as stiles, as they looked around for Scott hearing honking from behind them. Scott ran up to the driver's side, then to Derek making both y/n and Stiles get out and do the same. "What are you doing here," Scott asked kneeling beside Derek. "I was shot" Derek replied with labored breaths. "He's not looking so good dude," Stiles said. "Why aren't you healing?" Y/n whispered yelled as she knelt as well. "I can't. It was a different kind of bullet." He answered. "A silver bullet?" Stiles asked. "No you idiot," Derek said glaring up at Stiles. Scott's eyes widened "Wait. That's what she meant when she said you had 48 hours," Scott said. "What? Who said 48 hours?" Derek asked. "the one who shot you" Scott answered. Just then Derek groaned and his eyes shifted to the glowing blue. Y/n looked around panicking making sure nobody was close enough to have seen it. "What are you doing? Stop that" she hissed. Derek shook his head "That's what I'm trying to tell you. I can't." He growled breathlessly. "Derek. Get up!" Scott demanded.

The honking began to get more consistent. Scott lifted Derek as y/n opened the door before climbing into the back seat. "I need you to find the kind of bullet they used," Derek said as Scott closed the door to the jeep. "How the hell am I supposed to do that?" He asked.  "Because she's an argent, she's with them," he said. "Why should I help you?” Scott asked "Because you need me," Derek said, making y/n sigh. He was right and Scott knew it "Fine, I'll try. Hey get him out of here" Scott said to Stiles who had just gotten in the driver's seat. "I hate you so much for this," Stiles said through gritted teeth, before pulling off.

They'd been driving for about 30 minutes in silence and Stiles sighed picking up his phone to call Scott, he sighed even louder when he didn't answer, so he decided to text. 'Did you find it?' To which Scott replied 'need more time' making stile slam his phone on the seat, he looked over to Derek who had come out of his jacket "Hey try not to bleed out on my seats, okay?" He said. "Hey stiles ease up, he's shot," Y/n said, stiles again sighed "Fine. We're almost there anyway" he stated. "Almost where?" Derek asked. "Your house," Stiles said. "What? No, you can't take me there" Y/n sighed putting in her earbuds to not hear the two bicker, even when Stiles abruptly stopped the jeep. She thought it was best for them to sort out their differences.

Hours had passed and y/n groaned, they were parked on the side of the road and she was at the point now where she was aggravated. She got out of the car and dialed Scott's number. Surprised when he picked up

Y/n- Hello Scott it's me one of the two friends you so graciously forgot about that is sitting with the dying wolf... where the hell are you!?

Scott- I'm sorry they made me stay for dinner, where are you?

Y/n - parked on the side of the road. Where we have been for going on 2 hours!

She said getting back in the car, holding her phone out for Stiles to take

Stiles - what are we supposed to do with him?!

Scott- take him somewhere. Anywhere!

Stiles- and by the way he's starting to smell

Scott- Like what

Stiles- Like death

Scott- ok, take him to the animal clinic

Stiles- What about your boss

Scott- He's gone by now. There's a spare key in the box behind the dumpster

Stiles sighed "You’re not gonna believe where he's telling me to take you,” he said handing Derek the phone

Derek- Did you find it?

Scott- How am I supposed to find one bullet? They have a million. This house is like the freaking Walmart of guns

Derek- If you don't find it, then I'm dead, alright?

Scott- I'm starting to think that wouldn't be such a bad thing

Derek- Then think about this the alpha called you out against your will. He's gonna do it again. Next time you either kill with him or you get killed. So if you wanna stay alive, then you need me. Find the bullet.

Derek hung up the phone and handed it back to y/n. Stiles started the jeep and they began on their merry way to the animal clinic. "Isn't it ironic we're taking an injured werewolf to an animal clinic?" y/n said with a laugh. "Don't forget you were bitten too" Derek huffed. Y/n made eye contact with Stiles through the mirror and smiled

They arrived at the clinic and Stiles unlocked the door, Derek plopped down on the animal food, y/n got a message from Scott "Does Nordic blue monkshood mean anything to you?" Y/n asked Derek. "It's a rare form of wolfsbane. He has to bring it to me" he said. "Why?" Stiles asked. Derek looked Stiles dead in the face "Because I'm gonna die without it". Y/n sighed a little more panicked she texted Scott with urgency 'You need to get here NOW'

Y/n followed Derek and Stiles through to the operation room. Derek discarded his shirt to which y/n's eyes widened and quickly looked away, and Stiles was quick to look over to see  y/n's reaction.

The wound looked horrible if y/n was being honest, "You know that doesn't look like anything some echinacea and a good night's sleep couldn't take care of." Stiles said making y/n shake her head. "When the infection reaches my heart it'll kill me." Derek panted. "You know you really know how to be optimistic," y/n said sarcastically. Both y/n and Stiles watched as Derek rummaged through the drawers and cabinets obviously in search of something. “If he doesn’t get here with the bullet in time, I have a last resort,” he said. “Which is?” Stiles asked. The pair stared at Derek as he pulled out some sort of electric saw “You’re gonna cut off my arm.” Derek answered. This shocked the room into silence as y/n and Stiles racked their brains for something to say. “Oh my god! What if you bleed to death?” Stiles exclaimed. “It’ll heal if it works,” Derek said through clenched teeth as he tied a band around the bicep of his wounded arm. “I can't do this” y/n muttered as she turned away from Derek gagging. stiles nodded his head “Look, I don’t know if I can do this” Stiles explained, sounding like he was trying his best to hold back a gag.

“Why not?” Derek asked, still tying the band. “Well because of the cutting through the flesh-“ “the sawing of the bone!” “And the blood!” “Especially the blood.” Y/n and Stiles said bouncing off each other’s sentences. “Derek sighed dropping his arm onto the table “You faint at the sight of blood?” Derek asked grunting. “No, but we might at the sight of a chopped-off arm!” Stiles said, making y/n nod along. “Yeah no I can't I’m sorry Derek,” Y/n said. “Alright fine. Either you cut off my arm or I'm gonna cut off your head.” Derek said to Stiles. “Okay, you know what? I'm so not buying your threats-“Stiles was cut off by Derek grabbing his shirt and slamming him to the table “All right, bought, sold, totally, I’ll do it” Stiles rambled.

Y/n groaned “You’re an ass sometimes you know that?” She said to Derek “But I'll pass you this time because you’re dying” Y/n said before Derek leaned over and puked some sort of black substance right at his feet “Holy god, what the hell is that!?” “Jesus, I just might projectile vomit,” y/n said gagging while turning away from Derek for the second time tonight. “It’s my body trying to heal itself,” Derek said “Well it isn’t doing a good job,” Y/n said moving towards Stiles. “Now. You gotta do it now.” Derek said to Stiles. But y/n's ears picked up something unusual. The fast breathing of someone coming closer to the clinic, but how could she hear that? How all of a sudden. She heard something drop and hurried footsteps “Guys I think Scott’s here. Y/n muttered “Stiles? Y/n?”. Y/n's head shot up towards the door, she was right. Scott popped through the doorway seeing Stiles holding the saw to Derek’s arm “What the hell are you doing?” Scott almost yelled. Stiles let out a relieved chuckle “Oh, you just prevented a lifetime of nightmares.” Stiles said. “Did you get it?” Derek asked. Scott hurriedly dug the bullet out of his pocket and gave it to Derek. “What are you gonna do with it?” Y/n asked “I’m gonna- I’m gonna-” Derek panted before he fell to the ground passed out and dropped the bullet. Scott hurriedly chased after it while Stiles and y/n worked on waking him up.

Y/n tuned out the yelling as she thought, but only one option came to mind. “We have to hit him. Hard” Stiles looked at her as if she was crazy “It's the only way, we don’t have that salt here, we don’t know what to do with the bullet so we can't do it ourselves.” Y/n rushed “We have to hit him”. Stiles looked down at Derek “Please don't kill me for this” he said before he punched Derek square in the face. “Ow, god” Stiles hissed as he shook his hand in pain, Derek had woken up. “Give me,” he said softly as Scott handed them the bullet, and y/n and Stiles helped him up. Derek quickly got to work biting the tip off the bullet and emptying the powder before lighting it on fire, a blue smoke emitted from the substance. He wiped the powder from the table into his hand as he took a breather before pouring it into the bullet wound making him yell out in agony, as he fell to the ground still yelling the trio watched grimacing at his yells of pain, but their wasn’t much they could do. They watched as the wound quickly healed, “that was AWESOME!” Stiles cheered pumping his fist in the air “Are you okay?” Y/n asked. “Aside from the agonizing pain,” Derek remarked. Making y/n roll her eyes “I'm guessing the ability to use sarcasm is a good sign of health” Stiles said making Derek glare at him. “Okay, we saved your life, which means you’re gonna leave us alone,” Scott said, y/n groaned and walked away muttering “I’ve had enough testosterone for one day”.

She situated herself in the waiting room of the clinic, now able to fully focus on how her body was changing. Her muscles are more defined, she’s hearing better, and if she were to guess she's stronger too, which means the bite did take effect and she’s turned. But into what? She asked herself before Derek walked passed her and out of the clinic with Scott following. She watched them leave wondering where they were going. Stiles soon walked into the waiting room, joining y/n. “where are they going?” Y/n asked softly. Stiles shrugged “Something about the argents, I don’t know,” he said. Y/n smiled “he really is whipped,” Y/n said looking at Stiles, almost lovingly. Stiles chuckled returning her stare “Yeah, he is” he said, not breaking the stare. The atmosphere began to get tense, both wondering if the other felt the same. Y/n was the first to break the eye contact, chuckling “We should lock up” she said looking anywhere but at Stiles. “Yeah,” he agreed. So they got to work cleaning Derek’s puke first then locking up around the clinic, making sure to leave it as they found it. The pair got in Stiles's jeep and drove home, the atmosphere wasn’t exactly tense but it was too much for y/ns liking. It didn’t take long for her to build up the courage to grab Stiles's hand. Stiles whipped his head towards y/n and stared in shock. Y/n laughed “Eyes on the road you big goof, and close your mouth, you're gonna catch flies,” she said, and Stiles nodded turning back towards the road but squeezing her hand just to make sure he wasn’t dreaming when he felt her squeeze back his heart soared over the moon.

[python333]

déjà vu — python333

— — — —

synopsis you and ghost are more similar than the two of you realized.

relationships platonic!ghost & gn!reader.

characters ghost.

word count 2.88k

warnings 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], usage of c/n [call sign/code name], ghost's backstory [yes that is a warning within itself], kind of badly written.

note holy shitttttt i'm so sorry i haven't posted in two months. to everyone who is disappointed this isn't a req they submitted—i am very sorry but i have like. no motivation. please take this small fic as a peace offering after being silent for two months. also yes i said alej fic but i only had motivation to write for ghost LMAO

“So…” Ghost can hear Price next to him, creating an echo as he speaks through his earpiece, “Doesn’t it get hot, always wearing that mask?” 

“Not when it’s made of the right materials,” Your voice crackles through, the wind blowing by slightly distorting your voice, “It’s also winter, captain, so no, it doesn’t get hot.” 

The corners of Ghost’s lips twitch upwards when you answer, but he otherwise doesn’t say or do anything, simply leaning against the wall parallel to Price. For you, maybe your mask doesn’t get hot, but his certainly does—though, he doesn’t voice that, simply listening. 

“Oh really?” Price hums, looking around the corner of the wall he’s leaned up against, spotting a few enemy soldiers walking by without a clue of who they’re in the presence of, “What’s yours made of, then?” 

“Polyester,” You answer. 

From what Ghost understands, you wear a mask for the same reason as him—anonymity. As much as he can respect that and understand the want to remain anonymous, he can’t help but wonder why you would want that. Is it for reasons similar to why he wears his? Have you gone through things similar to what he’s gone through? Did a fellow SAS soldier also murder your entire family and attempt to pin it on you, to which you responded by killing him, stealing his dog tags, and burning your own house down? He had many questions, but didn’t ask any. 

He doesn’t think you’d answer them, anyway. He certainly wouldn’t. He���d maybe try to divert the conversation with a bad dad joke, or simply not dignify the question with a response, anything but an actual answer. He strangely expects the same of you. 

He vaguely remembers a conversation he had with Price when you first joined maybe two months ago, specifically a comment Price had made about your file; “I had the same conversation with Laswell about their file that I did when I first got yours. She said the same thing when she saw their file, too, word for word.”

It turned out that they had the exact same exchange that they did when they saw Ghost’s file, verbatim. Laswell had pointed out that you had no picture, and Price said, “Never.” Ever since then, Ghost has felt an inexplicable connection to you, despite not having talked to you that much. 

He’ll admit, he tried to initiate a conversation with you more often than he did with the others when he first met them. Maybe one or two times a day, he’d find you and make small talk, something that made his skin crawl with discomfort but something he still forced himself to do, just to try and make sense of the invisible line that seemed to tie you both together. 

This small talk started off as anything from a question about the weather—yes, Ghost asked about the weather, unfortunately for the both of you considering how awkward and stilted that short conversation was—to asking about training and skills. He didn’t normally initiate conversations with anyone else, he was typically the one that was walked up to and barely even had to carry any conversations he was in. 

Every conversation the two of you had always ended the same way, though; with you cutting it short the moment it got anywhere near your personal life, or even just your life outside of being a part of the 141, and walking off elsewhere. Ghost could see the tiniest bit of himself in you everytime you did that, and an annoying voice in the back of his mind always asked, Was I always that much of a hardass? … Am I that much of a hardass?

“Ghost,” Price’s voice snaps Ghost out of his train of thought and he grunts, looking over at Price. The man in question nods his head towards the now clear path to the building they needed to get into, and Ghost nodded back, taking his SMG out of the sling and moving out of the small alleyway they’d camped in, following after Price. 

They quickly rush over to the building, the doors thankfully unlocked and the soldiers guarding it stupid enough to not be right beside the front doors, and lock the doors behind them once they’re in. 

“Are you guys in?” You ask, the wind no longer distorting your voice, the background of your audio now relatively silent except for your faint breathing. 

“Yeah,” Price replies, the darkness of the building making him squint as he scans the walls for some sort of light switch, “Anyone notice we got in?”

“Not that I can see, no,” You answer, your sigh audible through the comms, “They’re pretty far from the building, actually.” 

“Perfect,” Price hums, patting his hand along the wall for a moment before finding a large lever. He hesitates to pull it, and ultimately decides against it, deeming it too risky. Instead, he searches his tactical vest and goes through a few large pockets that sit around his lower midriff before finding a relatively small flashlight. 

He presses the button on the end of the handle with a small click, and the flashlight flickers for a moment before the light becomes consistent and a small buzz begins to sound. Price looks around for a second, scanning the area for any immediate threats, and motions for Ghost to follow him. 

“See anything?” You ask curiously, some rustling heard on your end. Ghost looks around for a second, footsteps echoing eerily through the building. 

“Nothing important,” He replies, voice quiet, “Just dust and old furniture.” 

“His office is just down there,” Price interjects, nodding towards the hall to their left, making Ghost look in that same direction, “I’ll head down there, you stay here, let me know if anyone’s coming.” 

The echo from Price talking to Ghost both through comms and being right beside him, as well as the echo from being in such a large room, starts to irritate Ghost. He rolls his shoulders and puts his gun back in the sling, looking back at Price.

“Turn off your comms,” His suggestion sounds more like a command, but he’s sure Price understands it’s more of a request than anything else, “You’re echoing. If anything happens, I can just talk to you without them.” 

Price pauses before nodding, and pressing the small button on his earpiece to turn off his mic, and the piece entirely. He trusts Ghost wholeheartedly, and it shows. He takes one last look around before walking towards the office he pointed out. 

The office belonged to the man who had stolen vital intel from the 141—not intelligence on the task force itself, but rather a separate team that had recently allied themselves with the task force. They couldn’t risk that data being taken, as it would not only expose the other team, but several other similar teams and task forces. 

Ghost waits until Price is actually in the hall before speaking again, “You still there, [c/n]?” 

“Yeah,” You answer almost immediately, “Need something?” 

“No,” Ghost hums, leaning against the wall behind him, “Just wanted to talk.” 

“Please don’t ask me about the weather again,” You sigh, almost exasperated, “Or about how my training is going, or about how my CO is, or—” 

“I’m not,” Ghost interrupts you, not sure whether to laugh or cry at your examples of past conversations. 

“Promise?” 

“Promise,” He says, before asking, “How long were you apart of the army, before joining here?” 

“Before the 141?” You pause, thinking for a moment, “Sounds kind of personal.” 

“You don’t have to answer,” Ghost offers, voice almost reassuring, “Just curious.” 

“Aren’t you always,” You mutter, a comment Ghost promptly ignores, before you properly answer, “Just a year. Maybe a year and a half.” 

“American army, right?”

“Mhm,” You hum, “Would you believe me if I said we sang Yankee Doodle before going on any missions?”

“Oh, sure I would,” Ghost chuckles, before countering, “Would you believe me if I said that song was made to mock Americans?” 

“I’m not sure if I should be offended that you believe that,” You say, a lighter lilt to your voice as you do compared to a few moments ago, “But yes, I believe you. I think that almost every American has reclaimed it as one of the most patriotic songs, though.” 

“Almost every American?” Ghost questions, growing more amused as the conversation goes on. It confuses him, making him wonder why he’s so easily drawn into conversations with you, no matter how small or dry. 

“I’m sure there’s some here and there that don’t like it,” You elaborate, “But I haven’t met any. Not yet.” 

“Alright,” Ghost nods even though you can’t see him, before asking another question, “What branch?” 

“The Navy,” You answer, now without questioning Ghost which brings him a strange sense of relief, “I flew planes around and stuff. Didn’t really like it, though.” 

“Oh yeah?” Ghost sounds more interested now, “Why not?” 

“The soldiers there aren’t the best people to be around,” You hum, the sounds of you moving audible, “One mention of any sort of mental issues, even if it’s just something like feeling anxious or being sleep deprived, and suddenly everyone’s on your ass pressuring you to be better or just… being weird about it. It gets draining after a while.” 

“I bet,” Ghost murmurs, “Is that why you left?” 

“Partially,” You answer honestly, “Half of it was that, the other half was that I just didn’t like flying planes. I was also eighteen and couldn’t really control my impulsive thoughts, so a majority of the time I was fighting myself trying not to crash the plane on purpose.” 

“Makes sense,” Ghost considers what you said for a moment, before his eyebrows furrowed in confusion and he asks, “Isn’t the enlistment age for the Navy nineteen?” 

“It is,” You assure him, “I was an exception, ‘cause I was a month or two away from turning nineteen.” 

“Hm,” Ghost hums, “And you’re twenty now?” 

“Twenty, almost twenty-one,” You confirm. 

“Did you wear the mask back then?” Ghost asks, praying that the question isn’t too personal to the point where you stop responding. He’s been dying to ask the question, always worrying whether or not it was too personal—it was pretty personal, to be fair, but he wasn’t used to worrying this much over another soldier, much less one he only met two months ago. Sure, you both wore a mask and remained somewhat anonymous, but that didn’t mean you two were automatically best friends who braided each other’s hair. 

“...” You don’t respond for a moment, making Ghost’s worry increase, before you reply, “No.”

Your simple answer makes Ghost more curious, and he can’t tell if he should ask why or not. He stays silent for a few seconds, weighing his options, before he ultimately says, “Alright.” 

He tries to leave it up to you whether or not you want to tell him about your own story, of if you’re comfortable with that, which you probably aren’t, considering that—again—the two of you only met a couple months ago.

“Did you wear the mask?” You ask quietly a moment later, catching Ghost off-guard, “Before this?” 

“Before the 141?” He echoes your question from earlier, nodding to himself, “Yeah. For some time before this, I had a different mask, but it was still a mask.” 

“Was the skull always there?” 

“Mhm.” 

“… For just aesthetic purposes, or?” Ghost feels the corners of his lips tug up in amusement at your question, and at how genuinely curious you sound. 

“Eh. Not really,” He answers, taking a deep breath in and out through his nose. He doesn’t say any more than that, not being able to as his mind takes him back to a time a while ago, when he was being held hostage and was in the same room as some kids who heard him spill his entire background to the men holding him hostage. 

He remembers one kid in particular, a little girl with blonde hair, who had listened to every detail that he’d said. When he was telling the story of why he has the call sign Ghost, in hopes of distracting the men so that the 141 could rescue him and the kids, she had clung to every detail and later asked him if what he had said was true, her tone of voice eerily similar to yours. 

He remembers when he was carrying her out of that room, the questions she’d bombarded him with, and how he answered every one with as neutral of an answer he could muster. He debates doing that now with any questions you ask, but decides against it almost instantly—something that shocks him, even though it was his own thought—considering that he wanted to ask you those same questions. Not about your call sign, only about the mask. 

“It’s a long story,” He says after you’ve been silent for a while, your curiosity somehow palpable even through just the comms, “But it has to do with some family members.” 

“Yeah?” You hum, “I know a thing or two about that.” 

“Do you?” Ghost asks, slightly ashamed at the small jolt of excitement he feels at the opportunity of hearing more about you. 

“Mhm,” You pause, staying quiet for a moment, before continuing, “About family members. Dead ones.” 

“Ah,” Ghost nods, the discomfort he originally felt sharing some of his own story starting to melt away, “Dead ones. I understand.” 

“Can’t tell if I should be glad or not,” You snort, “Like, I’m glad you understand, but also sorry.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” Ghost grins under his mask, “I was wondering the same thing.” 

“So… dead ones,” You think out loud, before asking, “That’s why you have that call sign and mask?” 

“Yeah,” Ghost looks around for a moment, reminding himself to keep watch while talking to you, before cautiously asking, “Are yours the reason for your mask?” 

“Not really,” You answer honestly, with a little less resistance behind your answer to Ghost’s relief, “Well… I mean, kind of. But they’re not the reason-reason. I didn’t really like them, so I’m not gonna give them all the credit, but I’ll give them… maybe twenty-five percent of it.” 

“A quarter’s still a lot,” Ghost points out, “What’d they do to earn that?” 

“They died, and…” You’re doing more pausing and hesitating now, making Ghost wonder if he’s going to personal every second that you stay quiet, before you finally answer in a more guarded tone, “I almost got blamed for it. Almost.” 

Ghost gets hit with a pang of mixed emotions, like a weird sort of uncomfortable nostalgia. They almost got blamed for it. He lets out a breath that’s slightly shaky, and thinks for a moment before saying, “Almost?” 

“Almost,” You confirm, tone a little less guarded, presumably at Ghost’s more calm reaction, “Then I handled it the best I could, and the guy who killed them got what he deserved.” 

“Which was?” Ghost feels more of that uncomfortable nostalgia bubble up, giving him an uneasy feeling in his gut, as if he knows where this conversation is going. 

“Death,” You answer softly, “And the nameplate on his uniform stolen, which I replaced with mine. I would’ve taken his dog tags, but we didn’t really wear them on missions ‘cause our drill sergeant didn’t care too much.” 

Ghost can put a name to the feeling now. Déjà vu. He takes a deep breath and considers your words for a moment. 

“And the body?” His lips move before he can think. 

“Burnt.” You answer simply, “The whole house. It was mainly drywall, so it took a moment to actually completely catch on fire, but it was quick enough. It also smelled disgusting.” 

“Yeah, I bet,” Ghost swallows, vividly remembering the smell of his own house, before continuing, “He was a soldier for the Navy, too?” 

“Mhm. He was… a Private, I think,” You reply, “I wasn’t too close with him. I wasn’t with anyone.” 

“And so the reason you wear the mask is…?” 

“I didn’t really exist anymore after that,” You hum, “At least, not to them. I was dead in a burned down house, my own house, and was far gone. I like wearing the mask; it keeps me as just another soldier, not as the person who died in that house.” 

“But you didn’t,” Ghost points out, trying to ignore the eerie feeling that only grows stronger the more you talk, “You’re here.” 

“… Yeah, I am,” You say after a moment of thinking, smile evident in your voice, “Doesn’t mean I can take that back, though. ‘s not the best feeling, doing something like that.” 

“Trust me, I know,” Ghost chuckles, “If anyone here, I’d be the person to know, kid.” 

“Really?” You ask, voice more curious like it was before, “Why’s that?” 

“I’ve… weirdly been through almost everything you said,” Ghost admits, “Word for word with the house burning down, actually.” 

“… Huh,” You huff out a small laugh before saying, “I’m wondering if I should feel happy or sad again.” 

“Me too, again,” Ghost smiles, eyes flickering up at Price’s footsteps sound through the hallway, his silhouette slowly coming into view, “One last question.” 

“Shoot.” 

“How’s the weather?” 

“I’m not answering that, fuck you.”

[minimallyminnie]

Having a bit of Trouble.

Kalim can’t handle being constantly belittled anymore.

Tsukasa Tenma 🤝 Kalim Al Asim

It’s night and you’re walking around the school

Yeah yeah, unsafe you know but…you have a magical cat who breathes fire!!!!

And your dragon fae friend who usually join is…ill. (You sent some ice cream to him!!)

Hearing Grim yap about something that Ace did is usually background noise but then it just starts to waver until Grim falls asleep in your arms

Smiling, you continued to walk around the school

You got to the famous seven statues and heard the strangest sound…

A sniffle coming from one of them

Was it a ghost? You weren’t afraid no, after all, they literally lived in Ramshackle with you and after what happened with Eliza, you couldn’t care less anymore

You stepped quietly towards the source

The statue of the Sorcerer of Sands…?

Standing there, you stared at the statue

It didn’t seem to be cr—

And then you hear a sniffle

“Why…Hic!…why am I so so dumb…?”

…wait. You knew that voice

You went behind the statue to see your boyfriend sitting in a fetal position against the statue, not noticing you standing there

“Sorcerer of t-the Sands…I probably m-made you so haha…disappointed.”

A sniffle.

“What good am I? The only person who I thought was my best friend…hated me. I need him to do everything, even my own job as a housewarden, and I can’t even cook or clean properly. I have low grades in everything but music and math while he just excels in everything. Everyone in the dorm probably likes him more than me. I’m just…a stupid, stupid, arrogant, useless, sloppy, naive, idiot who can’t even—“

He’s cut off with a sudden tackle to the floor

“WAH?! A-another assassin? Ghost? Overblot?! W-who are you?!”

“Kalim.”

He relaxed promptly and hugged you

“Oh thank the seven! I—“

“You need to shut up. You are…”

You shakily breathed out. You don’t want to repeat any of those words.

“You are not what you said.”

Kalim tenses for a second and tries to laugh it off

“It’s nothing! I was joking, y’know just talking with the sulta-“

“Don’t change the subject. I heard you and…” You wiped his remaining tears “And I can just feel it.”

Both of you moved to sit side by side against the statue.

He tried to avoid your eyes but you knew better. You held him in your arms.

“Kalim Al Asim. You’re so incredible.”

His breath hitches.

“You make everyone’s day brighter. You listen when someone wants to talk about something important, no matter how happy or sad it is. You stand up for what’s wrong, you take responsibility. Kalim, you’re incredibly kind to others. Even if you don’t have great grades, you work hard now and it doesn’t define who you are. You have this sense when someone is struggling, you drop everything just to make them smile. That to me, to a lot of people, is so much more important than being “smart”.”

Tears leak out of his eyes as he listens to your words. You cup his cheeks warmly.

“You aren’t stupidly naive but optimistic. You aren’t stupid, you just struggle with things and that’s so so ok. You changed for the better after his overblot while still being the kindest person I know.”

“Your kindness is a weapon Kalim. A warm and loving weapon.”

He starts to cry and you hold him tight in your arms as he breaks down. All the stress, anxiety, fear, anger, and everything just spilling out of him.

His grip on your jacket is tight and you can feel his tears on your clothes but you don’t care.

“I love you Kalim.”

“I-I l-love you too…”

It’ll take a lot longer than just a night to get rid of any of these deeply tangled issue. But it is so much better to have your boyfriend free from his toxic positivity.

[leclsrc]

mr. nice guy ✴︎ ms47

genre: 18+, pwp (very little plot), very very filthy, fem!reader

word count: 4.3k (of smut. you’ve been warned)

Mick Schumacher is the paddock’s golden boy. He likes upholding this reputation, but there’s something nagging at him lately that makes it... difficult.

nsfw warnings under the cut!

18+ because… penetrative sex, anal sex; like descriptive anal, dirty talk (praise central!!), crying, breeding, rough sex, size kink, some squirting?, requires suspension of belief regarding the inner workings of anal lol

hope you like it everyone! :) i finished it early so revising can kiss my butt ahhaaha.

Mick has a secret.

It’s more of a problem than a secret (to him at least), and it concerns you. But it’s not that he feels the spark is gone, and it’s definitely not that he feels like breaking things off with you. Between you both, everything’s been good and steady despite how demanding his career is. Sometimes, if time permits, you’ll go out to dinner during a race weekend, or even spend more than a few days with each other.

Point is—he’s more than happy with your relationship. Even the sex is good, and like everything else, you two are just compatible in that department. Up until last month, actually, Mick had been okay. And then Lando just had to open his loud mouth during a game of poker in Charles’ hotel room, during a conversation about a girl he’d slept with the night before.

“I didn’t know girls were into that,” George had said, curious. Nobody was really paying attention to the poker anymore, everyone turned toward Lando. He’d smiled, a smug, cheeky little git.

“Oh, some are. But if you want to try, chances are you’ll be the one asking.”

“Really?” Mick had interjected. He’d been quiet for the duration of the discussion, so it comes as a bit of a surprise. George and Lando had shared a smirk, a look. Then Lando’d said passively: “Yeah, Mick. Didn’t pin you as a guy who’d be into that, though.”

“Hmm,” Mick mused. He didn’t pin himself as that kind of guy either. Sex with you isn’t necessarily vanilla—it can get rough—but for some reason, Mick just isn’t that guy. But with Lando, being into that had made sense. His sexcapades always have a thrill to them, an edge. 

“Yeah,” Charles had quipped, smirking now, too. “Because… well, you’re a nice guy, Mick.”

He is a nice guy. A sweet guy. Fans call him cute all the time. So he figures this new pressing dilemma won’t press. Except it does press—thoughts of being able to play with you, possess you that way irk him well into the night.

So, now, Mick’s faced with the resulting problem-and/or-secret, and it won’t be solved unless he tells you. Because, really: how does any sane guy respectfully tell his girlfriend he wants to fuck her ass?

He’ll try. Anyway, he figures the timing is perfect: you’ve taken time off work to come and visit him for a week at the Las Vegas launch. As soon as you’d arrived at his room, he had you on his bed being fucked within an inch of your life—an instance that repeated itself many times over the course of the last few days.

Mick tries to trace the reasons why he feels a bit shy about telling you. Maybe because everyone thinks he’s a sweet guy, and sweet guys aren’t into things like these. Even if you know he gets a little less sweet in bed, he thinks this is still uncharted territory for the both of you.

“Babe?” He calls, snapping out of his reverie.

“Still changing,” you yell, muffled by the door to the bathroom.

He gets up, stretches, and knocks twice anyway; the sight of you unclothed isn’t novel to him. You open it and stare up. “Yeah?”

“I need to get my AirPods, I think I left them on the vanity.”

“Oh, fuck. Sure. Come in.” You let the door open all the way and he enters, pressing a kiss to your hair as he searches for his earphones. You’re half-dressed, in a tiny tee and lace panties, hair disheveled and thrown over one shoulder. You bend over to rifle through your luggage and he gulps. He’s a sweet guy. 

You huff, yanking a pair of jeans out of your suitcase. “I have no good clothes anymore.”

“Nonsense. Everything looks great on you,” your boyfriend replies, taking his AirPods from where they rest on the dresser.

You smile and scoff playfully, placing the jeans back inside before pulling out a dress. “The Mick Schumacher complimenting me? God, what’d I ever do to deserve this?” You turn to the large mirror, holding the dress in front of your body to envision how it might look. From this angle, your back is to him, ergo, he can see your pert ass clearly, flexing with every pose you make for the dress. He blinks hard.

You even lift your hair into a makeshift bun to try and see how the dress looks, but still you seem frustrated. “It looks great, babe,” he cuts in. “I promise.”

“Does it?” You turn back around to show him the dress, pouting. “I dunno. Something’s a bit off. Or maybe the shirt’s just ruining the look.” You toss him the dress, which lands on his face—it’s satin and smells like you. When it slides off his face and into his grip, you’re already halfway through tugging your shirt off.

Underneath you’re wearing a bra that matches the underwear—pretty, white lace—and Mick feels his heart thrum heavily. He’s a sweet guy, though. So he tosses you your dress when you reach out for it and watches you pull it on for real this time. “Huh,” you muse. “You were right.”

“Of course I was,” he says with a laugh, coming up behind you. His height advantage lets his chin rest comfortably on your head. “You look very pretty.”

“Mmm?” You ask with a light giggle, leaning backwards. “Danke, Mickie. What time do you need to be on the paddock?”

“In two hours. Minimum,” he says, his big hand resting on your waist. He lets it slide downward, until he’s at the top of your thigh, where the dress sits. He pinches the hem, traces it until he’s touching the back of your dress. “Don’t worry. No rush.”

“No rush…” You repeat, nodding, letting him feel you up, encouraging it. 

You shudder, feeling his hand venture underneath your dress, in the process raking it up. Everything happens in the mirror, like you’re watching it in real-time—Mick’s teasing, his slight smile, the way his eyes have totally darkened.

Already growing wet, you reach your hand behind you and it wraps around Mick’s bicep for leverage. It’s solid, defined under your grip, and it makes you even more aroused.

His hand rakes your dress up to your waist, so he gets a clear view of your panties. You meet his gaze, lidded and impossibly aroused, in the mirror. “This the pair I bought you?” You bite a smile back and nod. You remember the day he gifted this particular set to you; it’d come to your apartment in a pink box. You’d written him a thank you text and a This is so unnecessarily pricey Mickie, to which he’d replied with Nonsense, send me a picture. “I like it,” you say hoarsely.

“Ah, believe me, so do I,” he groans, his head coming down to press against your neck. “More than like. I love how good you look. All for me, yeah? You’re my pretty girl.”

You shiver at the show of possession, and your grip tightens as you nod. You’ve grown quiet, an air of anticipation surrounding you both. “You like that,” he says, and it’s more of a statement than a question. “You like being my pretty girl, huh? All dolled up and so, so good for me.”

“For you,” you confirm. “Yes.”

“Can you trust me?” He asks. And then, to push you further, “Will you be good for me?” His fingers travel to your front, press against the seat of your thong. His touch is strong and persistent, and he stuffs the fabric a bit into your cunt, just to watch you squirm; just to feel how wet you are. Not to make you wait, no. Not to edge you either. Because, he reminds himself before the strands of his sanity leave, because he’s a sweet guy.

“Always,” you say, shuddering. Already you’re showing signs of wanting to cum.

“Come on, let’s go to the bed, baby.” You nod and follow silently, letting him lift you up and lay you down. You giggle, watching him stare down at you before reaching out for him, craving a kiss.

Like always, Mick gives you what you want, dipping down to press your mouths together.

It turns hot and messy quick, your arms coming up to wrap around his broad shoulders, trying to pull him closer, feel him against you, his hands all over you. He grunts, stumbling a little, and parts from you, much to your chagrin.

You sit up, shifting yourself onto your knees so you’re more-or-less level—except he’s standing up and you’re on the edge of the bed. Your hair covers your eyes a little when you lean closer, pouting.

“Come on, fuck me, Mick.”

“Yeah?” He asks. When he’s horny, and when you’re coaxing him like this, like a vixen, like something he just can’t deny, his words get sharper, actions harsher. You’d look at your bruises in the mirror—angry thumb prints, hickeys where your tops and dresses won’t give it away (he’s a gentleman in that regard), bruised knees from bad race nights when he needs to fuck your throat raw and rid himself of frustrations—and smile. “You want me to stretch this little pussy out?”

He pushes you backwards again, and you flip yourself over, wiggling your ass at him. “Please?”

Christ, it’s like you know his pressing secret, like you want him to let it out, and stuff you full, and make you dumb.

He blinks. He’ll be sweet about this. As sweet as he can get, anyway. He sheds his shirt and gets behind you, holds you still when he tugs your thong to the side. His palms are big and rough against your skin, a bruising grip left on your hips, but still you can feel how gentle he is with you underneath it all.

You hear him pull his cock out, the elastic of his sweats stretching. He slides his cock in between your cheeks, and even through there you can feel how heavy, how big it is against you. You whimper at the feeling of it. “Come on, Mick,” you try again, voice airy from impatience. “I’ll take it.”

He lets his cock glide messily over your pussy, lubing himself up from the slick gushing out of you. You get wet so easily, he thinks. One touch, one word, and you’re like putty around him, needy and clingy and oh so aroused. You’re so wet, he mumbles, stupefied. You clench around nothing, grow even wetter. 

He pushes inside then, impatient as you are.

A series of fucks erupt from his mouth, finally sinking into your entrance. It’s just the tip, but still you’re tight around him, your legs shuffling to accommodate the stretch. “I’ve got you,” he says. His vision’s cloudy. He keeps thinking—if you’re this tight now, this good, this pliant, what more if you let him fuck you there?

You’re dizzy with pleasure—every fuck with Mick is as dizzying as the last. You urge him to stuff you further, your whimpers lost in your head, but you can hear them faintly. Please, Mick. Yes, deeper, fuck, more. And, as if to encourage you, he goes, yeah? Like it like this, baby?

He knows you do. He’s sweet that way, always giving and giving. But you know something’s different—you feel it, even as you gasp from the feeling of his dick fucking you open. He wants something different. Something more.

You’re so tight, so sensitive, throbbing hotly around his dick. He fucks you hard and dirty, keeping a hand on your back, making sure you’re always in an arch, perfect and poised just for him. Your eyes flutter. Mick, you say, but it’s lost in your own moans. I’m so close—I might—fuck—

He grunts, feels you tighten around him. He fucks you harder, splits you open. You let him. “Go on,” he says, and the authority of his voice brings you both back to a state of semi-lucidity. “Go, make a mess of yourself on my dick.”

He utters the instructions with an edge to his voice. It’s husky and a bit lazy, but still you follow, letting the coil in your stomach unknot itself. Your jaw hangs open, eyes rolling backwards, letting your moans leave you noisily and breathily. More, Mickie. I want all of it. I want more. You’re so wet, you’re practically squirting slick all over him.

You’re cumming hard and slow, dragging out your orgasm by fucking back against him. Each thrust is punctuated with a squelch of your cunt around him. You dig your nails into the cotton duvet, feeling slick run down your thighs. His words spur you on, and his pace doesn’t let up, instead going harder, deeper. You cum so fast for me, princess. Gonna go again? 

His shaft is almost dripping with how much you’ve released on it, a wet noise sounding every time he moves. Come on, he coaxes gently. Give me another. You’ll give me another, hmm?

Yes, Mickie, you moan. It’s loud and unashamed. Yes, fuck.

Still sensitive, clenching and squeezing, you let the stimulation take you over, drown you until you’re barely breathing, let alone speaking coherently. Already the coil twists again, and you anticipate the pending orgasm, the high, the release. You let Mick fuck it out of you. You let him give.

You cum again, building up and up and then crashing messily around him, whimpers leaving your mouth and shudders racking your body.

It hurts, almost, with how intense it is; it comes in the midst of heavy, rough thrusts pressing against the deepest parts of you. You’re almost wailing with how good it hurts, your arms giving and letting you collapse on the sheets. You convluse weakly, feeling him pull out, a gasp leaving your mouth.

In response, Mick presses a reassuring hand to the small of your back. You breathe deep, tension leaving your body, walls still fluttering. You’re so good for me, princess. You take whatever I give you. My good girl. It comes in waves, the praise.

He wrangles you atop him, so you’re semi-straddling him. Somehow, lying on his hard, sweaty chest, with your legs on either side of him, both of you barely clothed—you still in the set, Mick in his boxers only—feels so much more comfortable than the bed. “How are you, baby?”

You nod.

“So good. You take me so well every time.”

“You didn’t cum, Mickie,” you pout into his chest. You grind lazily against him, smiling when you feel his dick swell against your still-dripping cunt. He grunts. You’re insatiable, he says. Absolutely crazy.

“I want it,” you say quietly, into his ear, hot. “Give it to me again. Again.”

It’s like time slows, when your lips bite into his earlobe, your fingers lithe and dextrous between your bodies, tracing over the solid indents of his abs. His own arm sneaks over your waist, wraps around it, lets it rest over the sticky skin, and thinks. Maybe this is when he can solve his problem, let the secret spill out of him.

He grits his teeth, brought back to reality when your grip moves south to palm at his dick. “Princess,” he says, breathing unsteady. “You trust me, right?”

The air shifts. You stare down at him with big eyes, glassy from your previous stimulation. And you nod. “Yeah, of course.”

“Okay.” He says. “Good.” He brings his other hand up to his mouth, covering two fingers with spit, and then, like a dam has broken: “M’gonna play with your ass, princess.”

Your eyes widen, but he starts nodding, smiling that sweet smile of his. So this is what he wanted. You inhale shakily, your hand leaving his dick to find purchase on his abdomen again. He heaves the both of you into a sitting position, so you can both breathe easier, but also so his access to your ass is easier, better.

He covers his digits with spit again. “It’ll feel good.” He reaches behind you and your hands are iron on his shoulders, your body rigid with anticipation, but also excitement.

He spreads you open, sinks his hands into the flesh there. “Trust me. Be a good girl.” He smears spit over the rim of your ass, thinks fuck, finally. “Relax for me.” 

Ah, you whimper. Ah. He feels you take his cock in your grip, jerking it twice, slurring a whimper into his ear: Fuck me, please. And because he knows you need a distraction from the stretch, he gives you the familiar kind, his dick tight and hard in your cunt. 

He thrusts upward to hit your sweet spot so you’re distracted when he’s rubbing tight circles, coaxing relaxation out of your ass. He feels your tension roll away. He’s got you like putty again. You’re caught up in the feeling, of bouncing on him; his hand momentarily leaves your ass to unclasp your bra and palm over your tits like a man starved.

Absently he thinks, is this what a nice guy does? Fucks his girlfriend’s pussy raw so he can claim her ass next? He squeezes his eyes shut, lets the thoughts filter out.

A strangled moan leaves you when he breaches your little hole. Just a bit more, he thinks, letting his finger back out, rubbing again, dipping lower to collect slick from your gushing cunt. He can tell you’re going to like this. “Okay?” You nod desperately, bouncing faster. Your slick is everywhere.

One hand leaves your tits to rub at your clit; the other stays rubbing circles over your rim, occasionally breaching. You nod. More, Mickie. Needy again. His fingers are wet and insistent against your clit and your ass, and the sensations flood you, knocking you into a state of euphoria. He stretches your ass open around one of his fingers, rubbing faster as he goes, feeling you get wetter.

“Mmmmf m’god,” you murmur, dazed. “Mick, I—I want more, fuck.” You cant yourself backwards to catch him.

He thrusts it, experimentally, collects more slick to make the glide easier. I know, he coos. I know, princess. Why don’t you give me one more? And you nod, because it’s easy, like this—when his dick is hard and deep in you. You bounce, each moan louder than the last, until finally your thighs are trembling and you’re releasing everywhere. 

It’s a lot—a lot of slick, a lot of pleasure. You can’t tear yourself away from his cock, or his hand insistently pressing into you from behind. You whimper, sensitive, eyes vacant with overstimulated pleasure. He presses an open-mouthed kiss to your lips, and you moan into it.

“Just fill me up,” you beg. “I can take it.” He uses your release to shove another finger in, relaxing you further, drawing moans out of you that interrupt your flow of thought. It feels so new. It feels so good. 

“Patience, princess,” he says. “I’m being nice this way.” He wants to split you open now, to be rough with it, to hear you whimper, to stuff you full of his cock and then his cum. But he’s patient. He’s sweet. He can wait.

He pulls out, rubbing the tip of his dick along the wetness of slick there. Your fingers dig into his broad shoulders, anticipating the breach. It comes, a dull burn that’s muted and slow, slow, slow. Mick grunts. “Can—” he tries, but the feeling is getting to him, the innate desire to fuck you stupid, to take advantage of how tight you feel. “Can you relax for me a little? Loosen up for me, princess.”

Okay, you murmur. I will. And you do, nodding as you allow yourself to relax. You can’t fathom the stretch. Mick’s already big—big shoulders, big arms, and feeling him so deep in you is addicting to a fault. 

He slips in further, eliciting a moan from both of you. Expletives leave his mouth in rapid German, and he tries to wedge a sorry in there for the language—but he can’t, just keeps grunting as he wrestles himself deeper inside you.

Relax, he grits. Almost there, so good, baby. You lean into him, nodding, letting him coax you through it, through the stretch, the pleasure. He wishes he could see how well you take him, but he knows that after this, it’s going to happen a lot. He’ll get his chance then, to bend you over, or to flatten your legs against your chest, make you take it better.

Give it to me, Mickie, you whimper. Your hole’s so tight around him, pussy wet and dripping everywhere; he doubts he’ll last long with how you squeeze him. Your tiny hole, so little just earlier, is stretching so well just to take him.

He grunts. He’s so deep in you. He’s positive you can feel him in your stomach. When he finally bottoms out, after a few moments of prolonged silence (save for the intermittent moans), you both exhale. “You’re,” you say, breathless. “You’re so deep inside me.”

“Yeah?” He asks.

“Love this dick,” you hum mindlessly, smiling, starting to grind on it. And fuck, why’d he ever keep this secret for so long?

Once you’ve started moving, he takes it as a greenlight to go faster, progressively speeding up his thrusts until they’re sloppy, loud with the noise of your slick and his precum. His hands are big on your waist, controlling how you move and how you stay still. “Fuck, baby,” he says, desperate. “You’re so perfect.”

For you, Mickie, you moan. 

He doesn’t realize how brash his actions are until he has to readjust his grip and sees indents of his thumbs on your hip, ones that will no doubt leave dark bruises. But he ignores them, and ignores the throb of arousal that ignites through him seeing you so wrecked and debauched like this, and thrusts harder. “Shit,” he grits. “Shit, shit, shit.”

You encourage him, bouncing back to meet his thrusts, embracing the burn of it. You’re certain you’ve cum twice already with how spent you feel, but the pleasure comes in waves every time he thrusts, sending you into a new kind of dizzy. You can feel just how split open you are, because your boyfriend is thick, and you can sense how wide open you are just from how well his dick fits. He sizzles into a space of just talking, talking, talking, to somehow redirect the stimulation—it falls into praise, questions, mumbled pet names.

Gonna fuck your little ass so full, he grunts. Full of my cock, my cum.

You cry out. Yes, you respond. Mickie—I want it.

I know you want it, he says. He mumbles something nondescript in German, voice heavy and rough. Then: Wanna take this dick, hmm?

He pulls out to the tip, then sinks back inside fast. It’s like whiplash, like the stretch has been played back at twice the speed. You moan loud, open-mouthed and desperate, nodding. Your mind is cloudy, cock-drunk, the way you always get when Mick’s been fucking you this long.

Gonna, he says, guttural. Gonna fuck this little hole. Stretch it out.

Then he’s fucking you fast and dirty, wetter and wetter, and you’re cumming again, watching yourself gush slick all over his lower abdomen and his dick, making the glide faster, easier.

You whimper all through it, prolonging your own release so you never have to let go of this euphoria. You hear him like he’s six feet below you—good girl, good girl, good fucking girl, yeah. Give me another.

Another—it seems impossible. But still you say, “Yeah, I’ll give you another,” your voice sticky with thirst. He fucks another one out of you, his pace rapid fast, dick pressing perfectly into your ass. It’s messy, your cum is everywhere, but you wedge another gush of slick out, and that’s what does it.

This time it’s you asking: cum in me, Mick. Make me full, please.

Mick looks down, watches you take him, your release everywhere, and grits his teeth. He presses his forehead to your bare shoulder, grunting, then filling you up. You moan at the feeling, already anticipating how good it’ll feel when he pulls out, lets it gush out of you in spurts. 

You both breathe heavily. Then: “So, anal, huh?”

And then you’re laughing, albeit tiredly, Mick lifting you up to run you both a bath where you make him cum one more time.

Later that night, when you’re asleep (a day of racing and anal sex is not for the weak, you’d said before skipping on Haas-sponsored dinner), he retreats to Lando’s room to play poker.

“Where’s your girl?” The Brit asks, a cheeky smile on his face. “She passed out?”

“Woah, locker room talk much,” Alex says defensively from the couch. “Keep it down, you nymphos.”

“Just trying to gauge if Mick here tired his girlfriend out.”

Mick reviews his cards and offers a smile. “I would never.”

“Yeah, Mick’s vanilla,” George jokes. “Lando, stop bringing your porn addiction into our poker games.”

“Vanilla?!” Alex says, interest reignited.

“Have you seen the guy?” Lando points blank at Mick, who stares back with an amused smile. “The press calls him F1’s golden boy. The cutest little puppy on the paddock. He just isn’t into tiring sex.”

“Let alone”—George stifles a laugh—“what you’re into, Lando.”

Mick hums, shrugging. “What can I say? I’m a sweet guy.”

[onskepa]

Okidoki~ sooo how about Tonowari with a reader that’s like kiri? Like- they’re mates and our dear reader kind of keeps her head in the clouds yk? Like- she when she goes for a swim sometimes she forgets everything else and poor stressed ‘wari has to look for her. :333333 DAAAMMMN this is making me kick my feet under the covers!!!!

Hope you like this one! I made her a bit ditzy for this one.

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Fwew

Tonowari is a leader, tall, patient, good sense of direction and morality. He fits all of the requirements to be a leader to his people. So, as leader, many people would assume he has everything under control.

NOPE. If anything, he freaks out on the inside.

Fwew. A name he given to the love of his life. A pet name.

Tonowari's mate, who despite having a name of her own, everyone calls her Fwew. And for one reason only.

She has a god damn talent to get lost and not know.

Its not that she doesn't have any sense of direction or doesn't know how to navigate around the island, its just that she gets distracted why too easy.

Easily, fwew can get side tracked. By anything really.

Pretty flower? she stays put to stare at it.

Pretty seashells? She stays to gather them.

Is the sky extra blue today? She will lay down at who knows where at stare at it like its a master piece.

Anything and everything just fascinates her so easily. She hardly gets bored and would appreciate the little things.

And where does her lovely mate, Tonowari leave? In a midst of panic. He tries his best to make sure his mate is with him at all times. But like a child, you look away for one second, and gone.

He has come up with so many ways. Using bright color flowers or hair décor for his mate as means so notice where she is. But the colors dulled down due to not lasting as much as he liked.

Made a sort of head band made out of shells, so that when Fwew moves, the shells make sounds. What happened do that? The twins that kept it together broke and the shells fells off.

A wrist band that tied her wrist with his, like hand cuffs, made with the strongest vines and roots. It did worked actually....until fwew's hand began to turn pale due to low blood circulation so tonowari had to cut it off.

Tonowari was so desperate as to not lose his mate, that at one point he strapped her on his chest like a parent would with a child. Fwew didn't mind, Tonowari shoved his pride aside to keep his mate close. What happened there? The straps were cut on accident when he was cutting up some fish.

Eywa forbid she enters the ocean. She tends to lose herself more in the ocean more than the forest in the island.

She would spend hours underwater. Admiring the fishes, corals and their unique designs.

Would let the waves gently sooth her to and from. Closing her eyes and feel the rhythm of the ocean.

Tonowari would often spend more time finding his mate rather than doing his duties. The people understand and are not at all upset nor annoyed. If anything, they find it amusing.

But the village does keep any eye out for the darling mate. Take notes of where she was last seen and report to tonowari so that he doesn't go in circles.

At the end of the day, Tonowari would calm himself as he finds his dear mate. He never gets mad at her. Too in love to really scold her. If anything, he would sit as his mate would tell of all the wonderful things she saw, collected, and hear her inner thoughts.

And the following day, repeat the chaos again.

I hoped ya'll liked this list! I had fun with it!

Fwew = search, look for.