#and then you lose all your lives in the harder levels and all of the bright colors and ANY music cut out

[cherry-bomb-ships]

I love the fuckin game over screen in the original Crash 2. Like

The fuck you lookin crazy for!!! 😒😒😒

[coquelicoq]

natsume book of friends season 4 opening sequence has got me incredibly fucked up. the lyrics. kid natsume's tiny little legs and teenage natsume watching him run. the lyrics. nyanko-sensei burrowing into his arms. did i mention the lyrics? ending frame on the fujiwara family. including natsume. because he's part of their family. as the lyrics ask him to "please [not] keep suffering alone"? somebody fucking hold me.

[ms-demeanor]

Friends, I think we need to talk about Covid.

I want to get a few caveats out there before I start:

I am aware that there are people who need to exercise extreme caution about Covid; I live with someone who has two solid organ transplants and who is at the most immune compromised level of immune compromised. *I* have to be extremely cautious about covid.

Masking does prevent a certain level of transmission, and people who think they may have covid should mask and people who are concerned that they may be at high risk for covid should mask.

You should be vaccinated and boosted with the most recent vaccines that are available to you; covid is highly transmissible and very serious, you do not want to get covid and if you do get covid you don't want it to be severe and if you do get covid you don't want to give someone else covid and up-to-date vaccinations are the best way to reduce transmission and help to prevent severe cases of Covid.

We should be testing before going to any gatherings, and informing people if we test positive after gatherings, and testing if we suspect we have been exposed.

It is bullshit that there aren't good protections for workers who have covid; you should not be expected to go to work when you are testing positive

It is bullshit that people who are testing positive are not isolating for other reasons; if you have Covid you should not be going out and exposing other people to it even if you are experiencing mild symptoms or no symptoms.

We do need better ventilation systems for many kinds of spaces. Schools need better ventilation, restaurants need better ventilation, doctor's offices and hospitals and office buildings need better ventilation and better ventilation can reduce covid transmission.

I want to make it clear that Covid is real and there are real steps that individuals and systems can take to prevent transmission, and that there are systems that are exerting pressures that needlessly expose people to covid (the fact that you can lose your job if you don't come in when you're testing positive, mainly; also the fact that covid rapid tests should be ubiquitous and cheap/free and are not).

All of that being said: I'm seeing some posts circulating about how we're at an extremely high level of transmission and the REAL pandemic is being hidden from us and, friends, I'm pretty sure that is just incorrect and we're spreading misinformation.

I'm thinking of this video in particular, in which the claim is made that "your mystery illness is covid" in spite of negative tests. The guy in the video says that there's nothing else that millions of people could be getting a day, and that he predicted this because a wastewater spike in December meant that there was a huge spike in cases.

I've also seen people saying that deaths are where they were in 2021-2022, and that we're still at "a 9/11 a week" of excess deaths and friends, I'm not seeing great evidence for any of these claims.

I know that we (in the US, which is where the numbers I'm going to be citing are from) feel abandoned by the CDC and the fact that tracking cut off in May of 2023. But that only cut off for the federal tracking.

I live in LA county and LA county sure as shit is still tracking Covid.

If you want a clearer picture, you can see the daily case count over time compared to the daily death count:

Okay, you might say, but that's just LA.

Alright, so here's Detroit:

Right, but maybe that's CDC data and you don't trust the CDC at this point.

Okay, here's fatalities in New York tracked through New York's state data collection:

It's harder to toggle around the site for South Dakota, but you can compare their cases and hospitalizations and deaths for early 2022

To cases and hospitalizations and deaths from early 2024

And see that there's really no comparison.

Okay, you might say, but people are testing less. If they're testing less of course we're not seeing spikes, and they're testing less because fewer tests are available.

Alright, people are definitely testing less than they were in 2021 and 2022. Hospitalization for Covid is probably the most clear metric because you know those people have covid for sure, the couldn't not test for it.

Here are hospitalizations over time for LA:

Here are hospitalizations over time for New York:

As vaccination rates have gone up, cases, deaths, and hospitalizations have gone down. It IS clear that there are case spikes in the winter, when it is cold and people are indoors in poorly ventilated spaces and people are more susceptible to respiratory infections as a result of cold air weakening the protection offered by our mucous membranes, and that is something that we will have to take precautions about for the forseeable future, just as we should have always been taking similar precautions during flu season.

So I want to go point-by-point through some of the arguments made in that video because I'm seeing a bunch of people talking about how "THEY" don't want you to know about the virus surge and buds that is just straight up conspiracism.

So okay, first off, most of what that video is based on is spikes in wastewater data, not spikes in cases. This is because people don't trust CDC data on cases, but I'd say to maybe check out your regional data on cases. I don't actually trust the CDC that much, but I know people who do tracking of hospitalizations in LA county, I trust them a lot more. Wastewater data does correlate with increases in cases, but this "second largest spike of the entire pandemic" thing is misleading; wastewater reporting is pretty highly variable and you can't just accept that a large spike in covid in wastewater means that we're in just as bad a place in the pandemic as we were in 2022. We simply have not seen the surge of hospitalizations and deaths that we would expect to see in the weeks following that spike in wastewater data if wastewater data was reflective of community transmission.

The next claim is that "there is nothing else that is infecting millions of people a day" and covid isn't doing that either. The highest daily case rates were in January of 2021 and they were in the 865k a day range, which is ridiculously high but isn't millions of cases a day.

But what we can see is that when people are tested by their doctors for Covid, RSV, and the Flu, more tests are coming back positive for the Flu. Covid causes more hospitalizations than the other two illnesses, but to be honest what the people in the video are describing - lightheadedness, dizziness, exhaustion - just sound like pretty standard symptoms of everything from covid to the cold to allergies. There are lots of things your mystery illness could be.

The video goes on to talk about the fact that people aren't testing, and why their tests may be coming back negative and I'd like to point out that the same things are all true of Flu or RSV tests. People might be getting tested too early or too late; getting a negative test for the flu isn't a good reason to assume you've got covid, getting a negative test for covid isn't a good reason to assume you've got the flu, and testing for viruses as a whole is imperfect. There are hundreds of viruses that could be the common cold; there are multiple viruses that can cause bronchitis; there are multiple viruses that can cause pneumonia, and you're not going to test for all of these things the moment you start feeling sick.

He then recommends testing for multiple days if you have symptoms and haven't had a positive test (fine) and talks about the location of the tests (less fine). Don't use your rapid tests to swab your throat or cheek unless it specifically says that they are designed to do so. Test based on the instructions in the packet.

He points out that the tests probably still pick up on the virus because they're not testing for the spike protein, they're testing for the RNA (good info!)

The video then discusses something that I think is really key to this paranoia about the "mystery illnesses" - he talks about how covid changes and weakens your immune system (a statement that should come with many caveats about severity and vulnerability and that we are still researching that) and then says that it makes you more susceptible to strep or mono and that "things that used to clear in a day or two now hit you really hard."

And that's where I think this anxiety is coming from.

Strep throat lasts anywhere from three days to a week. A cold takes about a week to clear. The flu lasts about a week and can knock you on your ass with exhaustion for weeks depending on how bad you get it. Did you get a cough with your cold? Expect that to take anywhere from three to eight weeks to clear up.

I think that people are thinking "i got a bad virus and felt really sick for a week and haven't gotten my energy back" but that just sounds like a bad cold. That sounds like a potent allergy attack. That doesn't even sound like a bad flu (I got a bad flu in 2009 and thought i was going to straight-up die I had a fever of 103+ for three days and felt like shit for three days on either side of that and took six weeks to feel more like myself again).

Getting sick sucks. It really, really sucks. But if you're getting sick and you're testing for covid and it's coming back negative after you tested a few times, it's almost certainly not covid.

The video then says "until someone provides evidence that it's not covid, it should be assumed to be covid because we have record levels of covid it's that simple" but that's not simple. We don't have record levels of covid and he hasn't proved it. We have record high levels of wastewater reports of covid, which correlates with covid cases but the spike in wastewater noted in december didn't see a spike with a corresponding magnitude of cases in terms of either hospitalizations or deaths, which is what we'd have seen if we had actual record numbers of covid.

He says that if you want to ignore this, you'll get sick with covid, and that about 30-40% of the US just got sick with covid in the last four months (which is a RIDICULOUSLY unevidenced claim).

He says that we need to create a new normal that takes covid into account, which means masking more often and testing more often and making choices about risk-avoidant behaviors.

Now, I don't disagree with that last statement, but he prefaces the statement with "it doesn't necessarily mean lockdown" and that's where I think the alarmism and paranoia is really visible here. We are so, so far away from "lockdown" type levels that it's absurd to discuss lockdown here.

What I'm seeing right now is people who are chronically ill, people who are immune compromised, and people who are experiencing long covid (which may not be distinct from other post-viral syndromes from severe cases of flu, etc, but which may be more severe or more notable because of the prevalence of covid) are talking about feeling abandoned and attacked and left behind by society because covid is still out there, and still at extremely high levels.

I am seeing people who feel abandoned and attacked because the lgbtq+ events they are attending don't require masking. I am seeing people who are claiming that it is eugenicist that their schools don't have a negative test policy anymore.

And this comes together into two really disconcerting trends that I've been observing online for a while.

The claim that the pandemic is still as bad as it's ever been and in fact may be worse but we can't know that because "they" (the CDC, the government, capitalist institutions that want you back in the office, the university industrial complex that wants your dorm room dollars) are covering up the numbers and

Significant grievance at the fact that people are acting like number one is not true and are putting you at risk either out of thoughtlessness (because they don't realize they're putting you at risk) or malice (because they don't care if the sick die).

And those things are a recipe for disaster.

I think I've pretty robustly addressed point one; I don't think that there's good evidence that there's a secretly awful surge of covid that nobody is talking about. I think that there are some people who are being alarmist about covid who are basing all of their concern on wastewater numbers that have not held up as the harbinger of a massive wave of infections.

So let's talk about point number two and JK Rowling.

Barnes and Noble is not attacking you when it puts up a Hogwarts Castle display in the lobby. Your favorite youtuber isn't trying to hurt you when they offhandedly mention Harry Potter.

If you let every mention of Harry Potter or every person who enjoys that media franchise wound you, you are going to spend a lot of your time wounded.

People are not liking Harry Potter at you.

Okay.

People are also not not wearing masks at you.

You may be part of a minority group that experiences the potential for outsized harm as a result of majority groups engaging in perfectly reasonable behaviors.

There are kind, well-meaning, sensible people who go out every day and do something that may cause you harm and it's not because they want to hurt you or they don't care about whether you live or die, it is because they are making their own risk assessments based on their own lives and making the very reasonable assumption that people who are more concerned about covid than they are will take precautions to keep themselves safe.

We are not at a place in the pandemic where it is sensible to expect people with no symptoms of illness to mask in public as a matter of course or to present evidence of a recent negative test when entering a public building in their day-to-day life.

I think now is a really good time to sit down and ask yourself how you expect things to be with covid as an endemic part of our viral ecosystem. I think now is a good time to ask yourself what risk realistically looks like for you and for people who are unlike you. I think now is a good time to consider what would feel "safe" for you and how you could accomplish feeling safe as you navigate the world.

I'm probably going to continue masking in most indoor spaces for years. Maybe forever. There are accommodations that SHOULD be afforded to people who have to take more precautions than others (remote learning, remote visits, remote work, etc.), and we should demand those kinds of accommodations.

But it is going to poison you from the inside out if you are perpetually angry that people who don't have the same medical limitations as you are happy that they get to go shopping with their faces uncovered.

So now I want to talk to you about my father in law.

My father in law had a bone marrow transplant in 2015. That's the most immune compromised you can get without having your organs swapped out.

The care sheet for him after the transplant was a little overwhelming. The list of foods he couldn't eat was intimidating and the limitations on where he could go was depressing. It cautioned against going to large events, it recommended outdoor gatherings where possible but only if he could avoid sunlight and was somewhere with no history of valley fever. It said that he should wear masks indoors any time he was someplace with poor ventilation and that he should avoid contact with anyone who had an illness of any kind, taking special note to avoid children and anyone recently vaccinated for measles.

It was, in short, pretty much what someone immune compromised would need to do to try to avoid a viral infection. Sensible. Reasonable. Wash your hands and social distance; wear masks in sensitive contexts and don't spend time in enclosed places with people who have a communicable illness.

This is what life was always going to be like for people who are severely immune compromised, and it was always going to be incumbent upon the person with the illness to figure out how to operate in a society that is not built with them in mind.

It is not the job of every parent I encounter to tell me whether their child has been vaccinated against measles or chicken pox in the last three months. That isn't something that people need to do as part of their everyday life. However it IS my responsibility to check with the parents I'm hanging out with whether their children have been vaccinated against measles or chicken pox in the last three months so I know if it's safe for my immune compromised spouse to be around them.

If you want an environment in which you feel safe from covid, at this point in the pandemic (when the virus is endemic and not spreading rapidly as far as we can see from case counts) it is your responsibility to take the steps necessary to make you feel safe. Some of those steps will involve advocating for safety improvements in public spaces (again, indoor ventilation needs to be better and I'm personally pretty extreme about vaccination requirements; these are things we should be discussing in our school board meetings and at our workplaces), some of those steps will involve advocating for worker protections, guaranteed sick time, and the right to healthcare. But some of the things you're going to need to do to feel safe are going to come down to you.

If you are concerned about communicable diseases you have to be realistic about the fact that our society doesn't go out of its way to prevent communicable diseases - norovirus among food service workers pre-pandemic is pretty clear evidence of that. You are going to have to be proactive about your safety rather than expecting the world to act like Covid is at 2021-2022 levels when it is measurably not.

[homo-house]

hey uh so I haven't seen anyone talking about this here yet, but

the amazon river, like the biggest river in the fucking world, in the middle of the amazon fucking rainforest, is currently going through its worst drought since the records began 121 years ago

picture from Folha PE

there's a lot going on but I haven't seen much international buzz around this like there was when the forest was on fire (maybe because it's harder to shift the narrative to blame brazil exclusively as if the rest of the world didn't have fault in this) so I wanted to bring this to tumblr's attention

I don't know too many details as I live in the other side of the country and we are suffering from the exact opposite (at least three cyclones this year, honestly have stopped counting - it's unusual for us to get hit by even one - floods, landslides, we have a death toll, people are losing everything to the water), but like, I as a brazilian have literally never seen pictures of the river like this before. every single city in the amazonas state is in a state of emergency as of november 1st.

pictures by Adriano Liziero (ig: geopanoramas)

we are used to seeing images of rio negro and solimões, the two main amazon river affluents, in all their grandiose and beauty and seeing these pictures is really fucking chilling. some of our news outlets are saying the solimões has turned to a sand desert... can you imagine this watery sight turning into a desert in the span of a year?

while down south we are seeing amounts of rain and hailstorms the likes of which our infrastructure is simply not built to deal with, up north people who have built everything around the river are at a loss of what to do.

the houses there that are built to float are just on the ground, people who depend on fishing for a living have to walk kilometers to find any fish that are still alive at all, the biodiversity there is at risk, and on an economic level it's hard to grasp how people from the northern states are getting by at all - the main means of transport for ANYTHING in that region is via the river water. this will impact the region for months to come. it doesnt make a lot of sense to build a lot of roads bc it's just better to use the waterway system, everything is built around or floats on the river after all. and like, the water level is so incomprehensibly low the boats are just STUCK. people are having a hard time getting from one place to another - keep in mind the widest parts of the river are over 10 km apart!!

this shit is really serious and i am trying not to think about it because we have a different kind of problem to worry about down south but it's really terrifying when I stop to think about it. you already know the climate crisis is real and the effects are beyond preventable now (we're past global warming, get used to calling it "global boiling"). we'll be switching strategies to damage control from now on and like, this is what it's come to.

I don't like to be alarmist but it's hard not to be alarmed. I'm sorry that I can't end this post with very clear intructions on how people overseas can help, there really isn't much to do except hope the water level rises soon, maybe pray if you believe in something. in that regard we just have to keep pressing for change at a global level; local conditions only would not, COULD NOT be causing this - the amazon river is a CONTINENTAL body of water, it spans across multiple countries. so my advice is spread the word, let your representatives know that you're worried and you want change towards sustainability, degrowth and reduced carbon emissions, support your local NGOs, maybe join a cause, I don't know? I recommend reading on ecological and feminist economics though

however, I know you can help the affected riverine families by donating to organizations dedicated to helping the region. keep in mind a single US dollar, pound or euro is worth over 5x more in our currency so anything you donate at all will certainly help those affected.

FAS - Sustainable Amazon Fundation

Idesam - Sustainable Developent and Preservation Institute of Amazonas

Greenpeace Brasil - I know Greenpeace isn't the best but they're one of the few options I can think of that have a bridge to the international world and they are helping directly

There are a lot of other smaller/local NGOs but I'm not sure how you could donate to them from overseas, I'll leave some of them here anyway:

Projeto Gari

Caritás Brasileira

If you know any other organizations please link them, I'll be sure to reblog though my reach isn't a lot

thank you so much for reading this to the end, don't feel obligated to share but please do if you can! even if you just read up to here it means a lot to me that someone out there knows

also as an afterthought, I wanted to expand on why I think this hasn't made big news yet: because unlike the case of the 2020 forest fires, other countries have to hold themselves accountable when looking at this situation. while in 2020 it was easier to pretend the fires were all our fault and people were talking about taking the amazon away from us like they wouldn't do much worse. global superpowers have no more forests to speak of so I guess they've been eyeing what latin america still has. so like this bit of the post is just to say if you're thinking of saying anything of the sort, maybe think of what your own country has done to contribute to this instead of blaming brazil exclusively and saying the amazon should be protected by force or whatever

[pit-and-the-pen]

Hi I had a fic request for really any of bat boys, whichever you feel like! My idea was that the mating bond had only recently snapped into place for both them and the reader. They’re taking things slow and getting to know each other before they accept it.

Anywho, the reader is unknowingly projecting her feelings down the bond all day/week, whether she’s excited over a book, irritated cause she’s hangry, or just downright horny lol. Thought it would be fun to see how the bag boy would react to these things happening at random points throughout the day and whatnot.

This started out as just head cannons and turned into a full Az fic. Hope you like it and sorry for the wait!

WC: 2.7k

Warnings: suggestive ( reference to masturbation and sex)

Little Gifts

Azriel never expected to get a mate. He had long given up on the idea, content with watching his brother find the loves of their lives. That was until he met you. You were new in Velaris, having moved from the summer court. He was making his usual trip to the small bakery in town to pick up Feyre’s favorite pastries, a small favor for Rhys who didn’t have time to do so. Little did he know how much he would be thanking Rhys for the task he had rolled his eyes at. It took one look across the shop for him to feel the mating bond snap into place. He asked you on a date that very day. You had blushed, mumbling out something about not expecting the shadowsinger to show any interest in you but agreed nonetheless

The date had been wonderful in Azriel’s eyes. You were sweet and kind, and had him slowly breaking out of his shell by the end of the night. It took all of three dates for the bond to snap for you, But the two of you had agreed to take things slowly. Velaris was still so new that you had wanted to find your own way before accepting the bond between the two of you.

Azeriel was more than willing to let you have all the time you needed. He would never forgive himself if he pushed you into accepting the mating bond before you were ready. Regardless of the fact that every moment he spent with you he could feel himself falling harder and harder for you. It didn’t help that he was constantly getting little glimpses of your emotions at random times of the day. Something that was unknown to you from the way you never talked about it. Azriel assumed since you haven't accepted the bond yet that it wouldn’t feel as strong with his emotions as it did for you. So he never told you, afraid to lose that little part of you that he had come to look forward to.

-----

Something was tugging at Azriel’s chest. He knew right away it was coming from you but that didn’t stop the small twinge of panic that overcame him when he felt your distress. Shadows instantly shooting out across the house searching for you. They reported back quickly, Library. Crying in the library. He walked as quickly as he could, fighting the urge to sprint to you. The door to the library was cracked open and he heard the fire crackling in the corner of the room and the tell tale sniffle that had led him toward you. Azriel walked as calmly as he could until he was standing beside you. He crouched down until he was eye level with you. You peaked over your book and jumped a little at the sight of your mate in front of you.

He reached out a tentative hand to wipe a tear from your cheek and he was rewarded with the slight coloring of your cheeks.

“You’re upset.”

“I…It’s just my book.” You held up the paperback in your hand to prove your point. Azriel felt something in his chest relax. His shoulders dropped slightly.

“I thought I saw your shadows around.” A small smile creeped onto your face. “I’m sorry I worried you.”

“Don’t be. I just want to keep you safe.”

Azriel stood up to walk out of the room when you wrapped your hand around his wrist. He spun around to look at you.

“Would you stay with me?” Once again he watched blood rush to your cheeks. A tinge of embarrassment was sent down the bond. Azriel smiled so wide it made his cheeks hurt.

“Of course.” His shadows zipped to grab his paperwork that had been discarded on his deskHe sat down by the end, letting you continue to sprawl out on the couch. You didn’t hesitate to lift your legs and place them on his lap. The two of you sat in silence. Him reading over his reports, you wrapped in your own book. Azriel let out a content sigh and tried his best to focus on the words in front of him. He lasted for all of three pages before he started tracing patterns on your legs. You both sat in the library for hours until Azriel heard your stomach growl and offered you a hand, pulling you to the kitchen.

----------

Azriel didn’t know what to do. Everyone had gone to Rita’s to blow off some steam from a particularly rough high lords meeting. The one that they had dismissed for the day with a promise to reconvene in a few days because of the arguments from today. Mor had dragged you onto the dance floor almost immediately after she all but shoved some strong smelling drink down your throat.Rhys and Feyre bowed out after a drink or two, needing to get Nyx to bed. Nesta and Cassian were so close together right now that Azriel knew it was only a matter of time before they left as well. That left Azriel sitting by himself in their booth. He knew he should go join you, every fiber of his being told him to. But he wanted you to be able to have time with Mor, didn’t want to be the overbearing mate that didn't allow you to have space. So he sat and watched you. Eyes trailing up and down your body as you moved gracefully, hands in your hair, head thrown back in delight. Azriel was more than happy to just be in the same room to witness that type of joy on your face. He was so caught up in you that he didn’t even notice someone approaching until an unfamiliar body was slipping into the booth beside him. He hoped that just ignoring the female sitting next to him would be enough of a deterrent for whatever she was going to say, but she just gave him a glossy lipped smile.

“Now, why is someone as handsome as you sitting all by yourself?” She purred, Azriel could practically taste the seduction in the air. The way her hands started trailing across the table to get closer to Azriel’s gloved hands. He quickly pulled them away, putting them on his lap. He didn’t respond. Just kept looking out at his mate.

“Oh, the silent broody type. It’s fine. You don’t need to talk for what I want to do with you.” She gave a fake giggle and Azriel tried to put some space between the two of them when he felt a push of anger so strong it made him gasp. The brunette sitting next to him only laughed again, thinking his reaction was in response to her words. She started raising a hand, straight towards his wings he realized in horror when a hand shot out to grab her wrist. One moment the female was sitting and the next she was being hauled up by her wrist.

“Get away from my mate.” He heard you all but growl. He could have sensed your anger without the bond currently thrumming away in his chest. Pulsing fast like a second heartbeat.

The female in front of you had the decency to look ashamed for all of two seconds.

“YOu should keep him a little closer if you don’t want others looking.” And with one more long stare at Azriel she turned on her heel and walked away. You looked like you were fighting the urge to jump her from behind as she stalked out of sight. Azriel stood up and wrapped his arms around you. He noticed the way you were trembling slightly.

“Are you okay?” He asked into the top of your head. You scoffed, anger still radiating off of you.

“I should be asking you that.”

“I’m old, this is far from the first time someone has tried to make an unwanted advance.” That apparently was not the right thing to say. He swore your skin was heating up as the anger flared up even more, becoming pure outrage.

“She almost touched your wings.”

“I’m-”

“I swear to the mother if you say you’re used to it I’m going to explode.”

And Azriel believed her. He really did. He pulled away slightly to look at your face, trying to calm some of that raging fire in your blood.

He barely pulled back before your hands were tangling into the front of his shirt, pulling him to your lips. He was so shocked at first, matching the shock he felt through the bond, that he just stood there. But then you trailed a hand up his arm, tangling your fingers in his hair and he started kissing you back. Your lips were soft despite the searing kiss. His hands ghosted down to your waist and he pulled you flush against his body. The motion drew a small whine from your throat that had every part of his body stiffening. He felt it then, that crash of excitement through the bond. You were happy to be touching him, kissing him. He pulled away, trying to get his bearings before he hauled you over his shoulder and winnowed out of the small bar. When he looked at your face he saw a similar emotion echoed in your eyes. Your cheeks were flushed and lips were slightly swollen. Slightly damp with his spit.

He had to force himself to take another step back. Putting more space between the two of you felt wrong and that wash of disappointment through his chest almost made him laugh. Instead he reached a hand out and tucked a finger under your chin, pulling your eyes to meet his.

“When I finally get to touch you, it’s not going to be because you’re trying to prove a point sweetheart. As sweet as the notion is.” You smiled at him and held out your hand, pulling him onto the dance floor.

------

You looked like pure sin. The black dress was covered in reflective glitter, turning blue whenever you moved. His shade of blue he noted with a rush of pride. Your dress was a twin to Nestas, hers being red to match her mate. It hugged every single inch of you, showing off the parts that Azriel had only dreamed of seeing so far. The two of you had been toeing a dangerous line since the kiss you shared a few days prior. Azriel would be lying to himself if he said it hasn't been replaying nonstop in his head. The way you had melted into him, the small noise from the back of your throat. He took a deep steadying breath trying his best to quell the desire he felt from looking at you. He looked back to you and caught your eyes roaming over him in return. When you got back to his face you didn’t look the slightest bit ashamed. Instead you sent him a smirk that had him clenching his fists to stop him from dragging you back to his room like he should have done the other night. No, he forced himself to look away from you, breaking whatever spell he was caught in.

The High Lords meeting was just as much of a mess as it was the other day. No progress was made, voices raising over each other in effort to get their thoughts heard. You were sitting with your arms crossed, utterly fuming as your voice was drowned out for the third time.

“If I wanted to listen to someone who knows absolutely nothing, I would listen to the rest of my court.” The source of the voice was indistinguishable over the chaos in the room but it was obvious it was aimed at you. Azriel felt the embarrassment pulse through the bond. He was on his feet before he realized it, hands slamming down on the table.

“Watch your mouth.” His words cut through the squabbling. All eyes in the room turned to him, your own wide and unblinking. He noted the slight flush to your cheeks, the way it seemed like you were holding your breath as you looked at him.“You’re all High Lords. Start.Acting.Like.It.” He spit out the words, a calm wave pushed through the bond. That’s when he felt your hand gently stroking over his. He sighed deeply and sat back down.

A sharp jab at his mind had him hiding a flinch. Your eyes jumped to him again, eyebrows pulling tight together in concern. He just squeezed your hand, the one that hadn’t let go of his as he settled back into his chair. Rhys’ voice filled his mind. Care to explain that? He pushed him out, not bothering to respond to his brother's prodding. He just tried to focus on that thread of comfort, tinged with something he tried to ignore. You shifted slightly in your seat, your dress bunching in a motion he instantly noted as you rubbed your thighs together. He sucked in a shaky breath, the lust he felt earlier hitting him in full force. He was desperately resisting the urge to put his hand on your leg. Resisting the urge to drag you out of the damned room.

The rest of the meeting was painful, for a new reason this time. He spent the next few hours acutely aware of every little motion you made. Every squirm, every shift had him straightening in his seat. It would be one thing if it was only him but the feelings you were pushing through the bond were absolutely torture. He was seconds away from leaning down and whispering in your ear when someone clears their throat loudly. Rhys.

“I think we’ve actually made some good progress today.” They had? “It might be time to quit while we’re ahead. Same time next month?” Murmurs of agreement filled the room and people started rising to turn to whatever they had planned for the rest of the night. Azriel turned to you but you were scrambling to your feet, looking anywhere but him, he noted. You quickly gathered the ends of your skirt and all but ran out of the room. Leaving Azriel with his hands slightly extended, still reaching for you.

“Scare her off?” Cassian slapped a playful hand on Azriel’s shoulder that had him fighting not to roll his eyes. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe he did. You seemed so eager to get away from him. Maybe he had scared you when he raised his voice. Spoke over you in a way you didn’t appreciate. Ariel turned away from his brother, ready to race to find you to apologize when he felt it. That rush of electricity that made every part of him stiffen. He could practically taste the arousal that was flowing through the bond. His heartbeat sped up and he was suddenly very aware that he was standing besides Cassian.

Ariel didn’t say a word as he walked as calmly as he could back to his room. He now understood why you had left in such a hurry and a frisson of pride ran through him. While he may not be psychically touching you, it was reassuring to know he made his mate this riled up. He was thankful he had made it back to his room when he felt that first wave of pure pleasure. His mind started to wonder how you must look right now. How pretty you oiled sound, if your face would scrunch up or if you would keep your beautiful eyes fixed on him the entire time. He reached his hand down to adjust himself, now painfully hard in his pants. But he wanted to soak in your pleasure, waves after wave being sent down the bond. You must be close if his racing heartbeat was anything to go by.

deep down he knows he should shut off his side of the bond. Give you your private moment but he couldn’t help the little reach of his own arousal, he sent just a hint of it down the bond. It was like the world stood still as he waited for your reaction. He couldn’t fight the smile that creeped onto his face as he felt your answer. Were you planning on joining me? Azriel didn’t hesitate to send his reply. I’m more than happy to finish the job sweetheart. Nothing else was said as he could feel your anticipation down the bond and followed that tug deep in his chest to deliver on his promise

[darkbluekies]

Yandere Silas x male reader bodyguard. Relationship:romantic

You and him grew up together in the mafia, Silas fell in love with you but you only saw him as a friend and he ends up falling in love with a girl and this makes you leave the mafia to go abroad with her to live a normal life.

Silas has contacts all over the world and discovers that you are in a country abroad, he kills the girl and kidnaps you

Be mine (you have no fucking choice)

Yandere!mafia oc x male!bodyguard!reader

Summary: after being friends with Silas for years, you decide that it is time to pack it up and leave, much to Silas’s dismay.

Warnings: criminal stuff, throwing up, getting drunk by force, ropes, cage, mentions of sleeping around, violence, alcohol

Word count: 4.3k

You put your gun into your belt and get out of the warehouse. 

“Hey, where are you going?” Silas asks and grabs your arm. 

“I’m going home”, you say. “This mission doesn’t interest me.”

You try to walk, but Silas hurries in front of you, blocking your way. He almost reminds you of the little, stubborn boy he once was when he does that. 

“Wait”, he says. “You never drive well after a mission. You have too much adrenaline. You and I can leave together. I can drive you to my house.”

“No, Silas, I’m going home.”

Silas doesn’t react to you calling him by his first name. But he never has. You are special. Only one other person in his entire organization can call him by his first name without getting a bullet through their eyes — that person being his second in command. You and his second in command have known Silas longer than anyone else. You’d dare call his second in command your friend too, although on a more professional level. 

You’ve known Silas longer than his second in command has, and you’ve known his little brother, Ares … and you’ve known about his jealousy for a very long time. It started when you one day went home with his brother to play video games after shool. Next day when you entered school, his brother had a black eye and Silas had not left your side for the entire day. 

It only got worse from there, but you never did anything. You tried to talk to him, but it seemed like the years made him even more jealous. He dated girls time and time again, but created a big fuss when you showed the slightest interest in anyone — be that boy or girl. You became the third wheel in SIlas’ multiple relationships.

He did admit to his love for you, just a few years ago, but you couldn’t reciprocate his feelings. It would make everything harder. You were basically working for him as his bodyguard and didn’t want to ruin the friendship you had with him. Losing him as a friend could mean both mental distress … and physical harm. 

“Does this have anything to do with the girl I’m dating?” Silas asks. 

You look baffled. “No? Why would you think that?”

“Because she’s at the house?”

“No, I just want to go home”, you sigh heavily. “Why do I have to explain my every step to you? You’re not my father, come on.”

“Because I’m worried about you.”

“What a great look for you, mister mafia leader. Don't let anyone else see that.” You nod at him to move. “Move out of the way now, I’m tired and I’m hungry. I want to go home and order a fucking pizza.”

“So this has nothing to do with my girlfriend?”

“What's the matter with you? Are you trying to make me jealous or something? I'm not interested in you, you know that.”

You push past him.

A month passes. You have been seriously thinking about leaving the mafia for a long time now, but ever since Silas got himself yet another girlfriend it became clear that you have to leave, if you ever want to get yourself one of your own. As long as you stay with him, he will never let you date anyone — apart from him, of course. 

You’ve decided to move abroad. While packing your bags, you feel tears run down your cheeks. You have known Silas for as long as you can remember. You love to be with him, he is your best friend. Betraying him would mean betraying yourself, and his entire organization. People who betray him gets killed personally by Silas. Neither you or Silas would want that.

However, leaving without anyone noticing would be hard. Silas would know that something was wrong right away and he would use his contacts to find you again. You’d need help with creating false documents … and you knew just the man to help with that. 

You hold the phone to your ear. 

“Hello?” a familiar voice asks. 

“Hi, Ares”, you say. 

“How the fuck did you get my number?”

“I did some digging.”

“Holy fuck, Y/N, you need help.”

You chuckle and hear how Ares chuckles in return. 

“What did you want?” he asks. 

“I need some help.” You look around, feeling like you’re being watched, which wouldn't be very far off. “Can we meet up?”

“Sure. Now?”

“If you can.”

“Yeah, I’m not busy.”

You decide to meet up at a café an hour away from your house, hoping that Silas’s associates wouldn’t recognize you here. You couldn’t believe that you would meet Ares again, you haven't seen him since you were teenagers. He looks the same, just a bit more grown up. 

“My brother finally removed the leash around your neck?” Ares chuckles and hugs you. 

“No, not really”, you sigh. “This is why I need your help. I know that you scam tight about everyone. And I need you to help me create false documents, passport … yeah, you name it.”

Ares smirks.

“Little Y/N is going on vacation, I see”, he says. “Where are you going?”

“I don't know.”

“Are you trying to get away from my brother?”

You nod. Ares seems to think for a moment. 

“Go to Spain”, he says. “Silas is banned from there, he won't be able to get you.”

“Ah, I feel so bad about it, though”, you sigh and run your hands through your hair. “He's my best friend. And boss, technically. If I leave, I betray both my best friend and his organization … and then he has the right to kill me.”

“Wait, you're planning to leave the mafia? For real?”

“I don't want to, but I can't live like this. I want to have my own life. I'm a grown man now, the window for opportunities is closing every year.”

“I'll go with you. I'll protect you.”

“You don't have to, Ares. Look at me, I'm capable of taking care of myself.”

You were Silas’s bodyguard, after all. No weak person gets that position. 

“Yes, I know”, Ares says. “But I can help. And you don't have to be lonely.”

“You are an ass too”, you remind him.

“Better than Silas, though.”

You scoff and roll your eyes.

Ares comes with you to Spain. He has given you false documents with new names and nationalities. You sit together at the airport with your phone in your hand. Your stomach is turning.

“I really should tell him”, you sigh nervously. “I don't want to just leave. I have known him for years. I might betray him work wise, but I can't betray him friend wise. I'm going to call him.”

“I don't think you should”, Ares says. “He has been awful to you, why does he deserve your goodbye?”

You groan and hide your head between your knees. Ares brushes his hand through your hair.

“Come on, sweetie, let it go”, Ares encourages you. “Your new life starts soon. Beach, sun and alcohol, all day long.”

You want to tell him that you don't drink, but decide to leave it be. 

“I have to go to the bathroom”, you excuse yourself and stand up to walk away.

But you don't go to the bathroom stalls. You stand by the large windows at the gate and call Silas.

“Hi, Y/N”, he says.”I haven't heard from you in a little while. I was about to go over to your house and drag you over to mine, because I miss you.”

“I have to talk to you about that”, you say,  hesitantly. “I am not at home, and I probably won't be back.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I'm really sorry that I have gone behind your back, but I am actually leaving … going abroad. And it might be permanent.”

“Have you hit your head?”

“I'm really sorry for betraying you, Silas, you’re my best friend … but frankly, you're always stopping me from getting my own family, while you brag about the women you fuck. I need to get away, at least for a while and get to try to find love. It might not be permanent, but I don't know.”

“Where are you going? You know that you can't leave the country without me knowing. The second any of your credit cards, passport or anything along that way is being used, I'm notified.”

“Well I'm not fucking stupid. I have fixed that.”

Silas scoffs out a mocking laugh.“You don't know how to do that.”

“I had help.”

“From who?” He doesn't sound that cocky anymore.

“Ares.”

Silence. 

“Oh, you can't be fucking serious”, Silas says. 

You can't detect what emotion he's feeling. Perhaps everything all at the same time. Maybe it was a wrong decision to call him before your flight, but the guilt would have eaten you up the entire way there.

“I am”, you answer, trying your best not to let your voice shake. 

“You know what kind of asshole he is, Y/N”, Silas tells you. 

“I have done stuff too, I’m no angel either.” You sigh, shaking your head. “I just called to let you know that I am leaving. I didn’t want you to hear that from anyone else, I wanted you to hear it from me personally. This is a goodbye, Silas — at least for now. Thank you.”

“Y/N-”

You hang up and turn off your phone before returning to Ares who’s sipping on a beer by the gate, where you left him.

When you’re allowed to board the plane, you’re already nauseous. What if it wouldn’t work? What if you changed your mind? You already felt bad. Ares puts his hand on your shoulder while you walk through the middle of the plane, trying to find your seat. Ares takes the aisle seat. 

“Thank you for giving me the window seat”, you chuckle. “I feel like a kid all over again.”

“Well, I can’t let random folks touch you, can I?” Ares responds. “I’m a gentleman after all.”

Ares sits with his phone up the entire flight, working. You know all about his dirty business, how he scams people left to right with his false businesses. 

You fall asleep for a while. Your body has been in a tense position the entire day and finally, you were out of reach. He couldn’t create a storm or shoot down a passenger plane, he wasn’t a God or a military flighter. He is nothing more than a man with a bit too much power for his own liking. And hybris. A whole lot of hybris. Ares turns off his phone to look at you. He smiles slightly. For years, he has tried to take you from Silas. You didn’t want him, but Silas was too selfish to let you be put on the market. He wanted you available at all times, for when the timing was right. Ares stopped trying to reach out to you after a while, knowing that it was pointless, thought that if you wanted to get back in touch with him, you would reach out — and you did. Ares lets his eyes wander over you. He has tried to match your physique, but had no chance against the hours you’ve had to spend at the gym to be able to be Silas’s bodyguard. But under all those muscles, you are nothing but a softie, and that’s why Ares wants you … and Silas too, unfortunately. He always has to compete with his brother over toys they both want.

Silas scoffs angrily and runs his hand through his black hair, and yet he can’t stop himself from laughing. It’s absurd! All of it!

“Why are you laughing, boss?” his second in command asks shortly. “This is nothing to be happy about.”

“I fucking know that?” Silas snaps back. “Do you think I enjoy knowing that my Y/N is on a plane with my psycopathic brother going to fuck knows where?”

“There are not a lot of places he could go to, though. Think about it.”

“I can’t fucking think! Y/N is leaving me!”

“Silas, sit down before you faint, ‘kay?”

Silas, oddly enough, listens and sits down on the couch in his study with his hands gripping the fabric beside him. His second in command stands in front of him with his hands on his hips. 

“Listen”, he says. “Ares would fuck with you, right?”

“Right”, Silas responds. 

“Which countries are you banned from?”

“Spain, England, Germany, the Netherlands and Ireland.”

“So, one of those countries.”

“But which?!”

“His favorite. Which one is the warmest?”

“Spain?”

“Bingo.”

Silas’s eyes widens and he breaks out into a shocked smile. Why didn’t he think about this? Ares isn’t smart.

“...how the fuck do I do this?” he realizes. “I can’t just take a plane into Spain without being arrested the second I step off the plane. We will need another way. We could get a boat and sneak in.”

“I’ll see what I can do, boss.”

“Do it quickly, I know my brother and he will take what I want. If he does, I will never forgive myself.”

The reason why Silas has never let you date anyone is because he wants what can only be had one way, your innocence. 

He sighs and walks out of the room where he finds the woman he’s dating standing with her hands together, looking worried. A certain rage takes over him. The sight of her had made you want to leave. He knows very well that it isn’t her fault, but he can’t help but think that it is. Her existence has put you in a position of discomfort, and for that, she has to pay. Silas doesn’t want to look at her, it only makes him nauseous. 

He pulls up his gun from his belt, and without a second thought, he fires off and watches the innocent girl’s limp body hit the floor. But for now, he can’t bring himself to feel bad. 

He has to find you. Ares is only nice as long as you're on his side, if you want to disagree with him, he's going to strip you off everything. You just don't know how horrific Ares could be.

Your first few days in Spain couldn’t be more than idyllic — if it weren’t for the fact that you look over your shoulder wherever you go. You scan the areas for familiar faces of Silas’s gang. 

“Relax, will you?” Ares says and hooks his arm around your shoulders. “Just enjoy the scenery instead.”

“I think I’m going insane”, you mutter. 

“A shot will help with that.”

“I don’t drink, you know that.”

Ares just smiles. You’re on your way back to the house from a restaurant Ares had treated you to. It was obviously a date, but you didn’t know how to tell him that you wanted to take things slow. Ares has never been a patient man … and you aren’t even sure if Ares is the person you want to date currently. Frankly, thanks to Silas, you don’t know what you want to do yet. You’ve only gotten your freedom to do whatever you want a few days ago, and it’s more overwhelming than you expected. 

“Do you want to come to my room?” Ares asks when you get to the front door. “We don’t even have to do anything, we can just watch TV.”

“I start to believe that the only reason you wanted to come with me on this trip was to get me in bed”, you scoff and put the keys in the lock. 

“Not only-”

“Ares, go to the bar and pick up someone there instead.”

“I can’t leave you alone, I told you that I was going on the trip to protect you.”

“And i told you that I didn’t need protection. If you’re horny, go.”

Ares sighs and gives up. “Fine, call me if you need me.”

“I’ll be fine, I’m tired.”

Ares nods and gives your back a tap before walking back the way you came from. You unlock the door, going into the house. In the corner of your eye, you can tell that something is moving. Instantly, you go into attack mode, but freezing when you notice who it is that is standing up from the armchair.

“I feel like a dad catching their underage kid sneaking in after a night out”, the second in command says. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” you question. 

The second in command jerks his head. “Fucking guess.”

“Did Silas really send you because he can’t enter the country?” you laugh. “That’s so tragic.”

“Laugh all you want, you’re not the one that have been on a small fucking fishing boat for twelve hours straight!” He collects himself and sighs. “I will give you one chance to come with me voluntarily before I beat your head in.”

You scoff and cross your arms over your chest. “Try me.”

Silas must have equipped his second in command with things he knew that you wouldn’t be able to combat, because in one way or another, you lose consciousness. 

You wake up in a dark, cold room. At once, you try to move your hands to your eyes to rub them clean from drowsiness, but quickly notice how your hands are tied to something behind you. That’s when you realize that you’re stuck in a cage the size of a garden shed, in — what looks like — a cargo hold. Your hands are tied to one of the cage’s bars behind you. Your head is pounding from the hit his second in command had given you. 

“Look at that, he’s finally waking up”, a familiar voice says. 

“So we don’t need the water?” his second in command asks. 

“Let’s keep it.”

Silas walks into the cage, crouching down in front of you. He takes a hold of your chin, directing your head whichever way he wants. 

“You gave him a bump the size of mount everest”, Silas mutters over his shoulder. 

“He’s a trained fighter”, his second in command replies. “I had to do what I had to do, you know?”

“I guess.”

Silas lets go of your pounding head. You groan softly, feeling out of your own body, while still being trapped inside the cage. You start to cough and Silas grabs the bucket of icy water, holding it to your mouth. At first, you gulp it down … and then realize that it was sea water. You throw it up, right back into the bucket. Silas gives the bucket to his second in command, telling him to throw it out.

“That was fucking disgusting”, you grimace and gag. 

“You kind of deserve it.” He fixes your hair that has started to stick onto your forehead. “Why did you do that to me, Y/N?”

“You didn’t let me have my own life. I was living yours, as a side character.”

“You betrayed me.”

You meet his brown — almost black — eyes and feel your heart sink. You have never seen such sadness in his eyes before. 

“I know”, you say and turn down your gaze. “I felt really bad about it. I know the rules, and I won’t make a fuzz about it, but can I beg of you that it won’t be you who kills me? I don’t want that to be our last memory together.”

Silas seems to be taken aback. 

“I’m not going to kill you”, he says. “In fact, no one is.”

“But I betrayed you-”

“I know, but I can’t kill you.”

“You can’t bend the rules, or else you’ll get a mutiny.”

“Who said that I was letting you off the hook?”

You watch how Silas walks out of the cage, picks something up from the floor, and returns with a bottle in his hands. 

“I know that you are strong”, he says, popping the bottle open, “and violent. So, I’m going to keep you calm for the rest of the journey to Portugal. Open your mouth.”

“What is that?” you ask suspiciously, eyeing the bottle wearily. 

“Vodka.”

You shake your head quickly. “That’s so foul-”

“I did not ask for your opinion.”

He puts the opening of the bottle to your lips and you try to turn your head, but Silas forces you to drink. With one hand, he holds the bottle, and with the other he holds your chin to make sure that you can’t turn away. You have no other choice but to swallow the burning liquid. He doesn’t let you stop until half the bottle are gone. You cough and gag, but can’t throw up. 

“You absolute fu—fucking—”, you cough. 

“Calm down, baby boy, it’s just some vodka”, Silas says nonchalantly and takes a sip. “Good for your heart.”

He puts his hand on your heavily raising chest, trying to calm your breathing and feel your racing heart. The alcohol turns your body heat up and you want nothing more than for that bucket of water to come back. 

“My right hand man will be here to make sure that you’re not sober for a single second”, Silas says and stands up. 

“You can’t fucking leave me like this!” you burst out. 

“Then stop me.”

You fight against the ropes and Silas smirks triumphantly before leaving the cargo hold.

The second in command came in every half an hour to give you new sips. You tried to refuse, but with your hands locked behind your back and head spinning with alcohol, there wasn't much you could to to stop him.

You haven't drank anything since you were a young teenager and the rocking motions of the sea wasn't helping you. You refused to throw up again, refused to give them the satisfaction of seeing you in such a state next time they entered.

You hated alcohol even worse now. Fuck Silas. 

After what felt like hours — in your drunken state it could very well have been days, or minutes — you couldn't take it anymore.

“Silas!” you shout and your tone goes to a whining, slurred melody. “Silas!”

You've never felt so helpless.

Silas enters with his second in command tightly behind him. He enters the cage and crouches down in front of your pathetic form.

“What?” he asks, cupping your cheek.

“Please stop”, you beg and sob, but you're not sure if the tears come from the heart or the alcohol. “Please …I will do what you want …”

Silas grabs the back of your sweaty neck and directs your wet face into his shoulder, letting you cry. You can feel that your hands are freed from the ropes.

Silas picks you up, carrying you up to the decks above water. His second in command holds your head so that you won't smash it against one of the sharp corners. 

Silas tucks you into a bed and leaves you to rest. You can see the shining sun outside the round porthole window as you fall asleep. 

He walks out onto the deck of the fishing boat and smirks.

“What?” his second in command asks.

“I'm not single anymore”, Silas chuckles.

“You won again, congratulations. Will you put Y/N into the basement?”

“He can handle that. But most important thing is that he's coming home where he belongs, and there won't be any more childish outbursts.”

“What happened with your brother, by the way?”

“Who cares? I don't want to meet him anyway, so the less I need to deal with him, the better.”

When the fishing boat reaches Portugal, you are dragged to a car and to the airport. You don't say much. Silas disregard for your hate of alcohol and childish behavior has put you off. If it weren't for the fact that you are hus prisoner now, you wouldn't be his friend anymore.

Silas’s private jet stands ready on an empty field. He holds your arm as he pushes you up the stairs. You rip your arm from his hold.

“I can walk by myself, let me go”, you mutter.

Silas sighs. You sit down in a seat opposite Silas and cross your arms.

“You are glaring at me”, Silas says without glancing up from his phone.

“I'm just trying to determine if you have brain cells”, you spit.

“Aren't you a fun lad?”  

“Where is my phone, by the way?”

“Like sharp objects and weapons should be: far away from you.”

“Oh, I see. You're going to treat me like a child.”

“Y/N, I'm not an idiot. I trained you, I know how dangerous you are with weapons. You are even more violent than I am at times.”

“Obviously with good reasons.”

Silas glances up from his phone. You twitch your eyebrows testingly. You might not have your weapons, but your tongue is still sharp. 

Being in a relationship with Silas might be more interesting than you thought, and Silas sure as hell will realize that you're not going down without a fight.

“Your girlfriend, then?” you question. “What does she think?”

“Frankly, she can't think a lot at the moment”, Silas responds, turns off his phone and luts it on the table between you. 

You get the hint immediately. 

“Killing her was unnecessary”, you say.

“Running away from me was unnecessary too”, Silas adds.

“This is going to be a stable relationship.”

“It will be the second you stop with the childish attitude.”

While keeping eye contact, you push his phone off the table. Silas eye twitches as he bends down to get it.

“You're going into the basement when we get home”, he says.

“Can I hit back? Or are you going to have full control and tie me up again? Is that the only way you can win over me? With me being completely helpless?”

“Oh, shut the fuck up before I let you ride on the airplane wing.”

“Sounds good to me.”

You stare at each other, and you refuse to look away first. You're going to make him regret imprisoning you.

[sweetbans29]

Support - CC

Pairing: Caitlin Clark x Reader

Summary: You are an advocate for Caitlin's W transition (based on THIS request)

Warnings: fluff

Word Count: 5.1k

Sweetban Masterlist

AN: The request was very specific and I am going to be honest, I did not follow it to a T but I hope you enjoy!

"Hey CC, you better hurry up the game is starting," Jada yells from the couch. Caitlin taps the microwave in hopes that will speed up the popcorn. It doesn't.

Cait hurridly puts the chocolate chip cookies on a plate, cursing as she keeps burning her hand on the cookie sheet that she just pulled from the oven. She places the last cookie on the plate, grabs the popcorn bag, and scurries to the living room with the other girls.

The team had just finished a summer training session and booked it back to Caitlin's place to watch the game. It was one they all had been talking about for weeks.

"You know one of you could have helped me," Caitlin says passing the popcorn to Jada and placing the plate of cookies on the table. A swarm of hands comes to grab them, leaving 2 on the plate.

"You didn't ask," Jada says like it was a fact, and Caitlin rolls her eyes.

"Sorry, we'll help next time," Kate says as she finishes her cookie.

"Yeah, whatever," Caitlin says as the game tips off.

"CC, my popcorn is burnt," Jada whines as she tries to pick through the burnt pieces.

Caitlin doesn't respond, her eyes glued to the screen as you make your first appearance in 11 months.

You were the first pick in the 2021 draft, there was no question about it. You had led your team to two championships, back to back. There wasn't much left you felt you needed to do at a college level and declared for the draft. The NY Liberty getting first overall pick made the decision a no-brainer.

When you were drafted, you were in the best physical shape of your life. Tired, yes, but more ready than you have ever been for the jump to the W. Getting to NY and starting in training camp confirmed even more that this was the right decision for you. When games started, you realized that the transition was way more than you had expected. The physicality yes, but the mental transition was even harder. You went from a near-perfect season your senior year to losing what felt like every other game.

You were only 7 games into the season when the worst happened. It was during an away game in Minnesota when you went down and you went down hard. The pop in your left knee was something you were trying hard to ignore but the scream you let out was anything but ignorable. When it happened the whole arena went silent as you made your way off the court - only accepting help when you got to the tunnel. After a few scans, you learned you had torn your ACL, officially taking you out of your rookie season.

Caitlin remembers watching the game when it happened. If Cait were honest, she had been watching your game since you entered college. She watched your freshman year as your game immediately translated into a college setting. She watched as they built a team around you your sophomore year, already anticipating playing you when she becomes a Hawkeye. Then your senior year, her freshman year, when your team knocked out hers in the Sweet Sixteen.

It was in Caitlin's freshman year when you had been posted up against her - playing elite defense and causing Cait to have the single worst game in her college career thus far. She went back and reviewed the tape multiple times to see what had caused her to become so shaken. As she watches it, she realizes several things.

First off, you put your head down and do the work. She rarely sees you arguing with the refs when a call doesn't go your way. She actually finds it comical how your teammates go up questioning the ref or trying to explain how what her team did was a foul and you just jogged to the other end of the court.

Second, she noticed how calm you were while playing. You handled the ball like you were playing a pick-up game with some friends. It was mesmerizing to Caitlin. So often she felt like she played all over the place, and if she were to watch herself it was obvious, but when she watched you - you never once seemed jarred.

Third, your vision is similar to hers. She can only assume you see what she sees. Your vision on the court and IQ for the game is one that she hopes to continue working at. As Cait watches you scout out the floor, you don't always go with what she would expect or do herself. It was almost like a game of chess to you. If you saw the defense react a certain way, you would adjust and get them thinking you were going one way when really you would get everyone to shift, waiting until the last second to show your hand. That is what got under Caitlin's skin during the game. It was almost as if you were baiting her and were playing a head game with her. It was most obvious when you were on defense and were able to pick apart her offensive strategy. It was almost like you knew what Caitlin was going to do before she knew it.

The last thing she noticed had nothing to do with the game, and she almost missed it the first four times she watched the tape, but it was the way she caught herself looking at you. Caitlin throughout the whole game was stealing glances of you. She thinks back to the game and feels herself start to blush. She remembers how your cheeks would tint red and how you stood there with your hands on your hips when something was taking too long. She remembers how your team would gravitate to you because she also wanted to. She remembers how after playing a whole game, when you were giving high-fives, you looked over and smiled at her - your eyes looking directly into hers until she finally broke the contact. She realized that not only was she swayed by your game but she took a particularly deep liking to you.

As Caitlin sits with her team watching your first game back, yes she is watching you because it is your comeback game but also because since she has realized she has taken a particular liking to you, she wants to watch you nonstop.

You take the court and isn't the game you want as your first one back but you are back. You are still figuring out how to move on the court with the adjustment of a weaker knee but know that will come with time. To anyone watching, you looking good as new but you know your game is different - so does Caitlin.

You end the game going 12/4/8 with 2 steals and a block. You aren't super happy but you know you are your biggest critic. You also have to remember this is the first game of the season. After the game, you check your phone to see messages from a handful of people congratulating you, responding to them all with some sort of reaction you open Instagram and scroll. Any time you see anything about you, you scroll right past it.

You stop on a post about the winner of the Dawn Staley Award winner. You see it went, for the second time, to Caitlin Clark - a guard out of Iowa. You wrack your brain and remember playing her in college, she is a solid player. It is tough that she has won the award back to back her freshman and sophomore years. You post the achievement to your story with the caption '1-of-1'. You then click on her profile and give her a follow before locking your phone and heading to the post-presser.

Caitlin gets a notification and immediately stands up. When the game ended, the girls didn't move and kept snacking on whatever was in front of them. Cait is the first one to move.

"Woah, are you okay there?" Kate asks grabbing Caitlin's calf. Kate's sitting right next to Caitlin and lost balance when the girl decided to stand up without any sort of notice.

Caitlin didn't know what to say as she just stared at the notification of you following her. She shows Kate.

"Holy shit, there is no way," Kate says looking at her phone. "That is sick."

The other girls are asking what happened and Kate tells them that you followed Caitlin. Cait sits back down and taps on your story only to see a photo of her. She sits there with a stupid smile on her face. You know who she is. You know who Caitlin is. You posted about her winning an award right after you just took the first dub of the season.

Caitlin tries not to let it get to get head considering you are a pro and she still had two (possibly three) more years in college but that is hard to do when the player she is crushing on now knows who she is.

Time flies when you are having fun. At least that is what Caitlin tells herself as she has just played in her last college game. What a time it has been for her. She brought her team to the championship game twice but fell short both times, never being named with a title. She is now headed to the WNBA draft and will likely go first, making her way to Indiana.

The transition is fast and before she knows it, she is moving in to an apartment in Indianapolis and preparing for training camp. When games begin, she feels like she hasn't received a break in what feels like a year. In reality, it has only been six months but the amount of play she has had both in her senior year and entering the W is overwhelming.

The thing is - Caitlin would never outright say she is overwhelmed, rather just swallow it and keep going. She may not say anything but her body language and eyes tell the story.

You on the other hand have started the season out on fire. Your mindset for this year was redemption. Over the last two years, your game wasn't where you had wanted it to be coming out of college and coming back from a major injury but where you are now is a much better place than you were before. The year you came back from injury, your game was anything but great. You had the worst season you had ever had playing, including the very first year you started with the sport. It was downright embarrassing but that is what drove you to be where you are now. It may have taken longer than anyone had expected but you have arrived.

It is a few games in when you are asked about the rookie guard.

"What are your thoughts on Caitlin Clark? She has been struggling in her transition and many people have been comparing it to your start in the W," one reporter asks. You smile and let out a little chuckle.

"You all love to pick apart a player when they're down, don't you," you begin and your media manager is in the back corner giving you a death stare. When it comes to the media, you have never had a problem calling them out. Unlike you on the court where you just put your head down and play, when it comes to how the media depicts players - well that is something you don't stand for.

"You need to give the girl some space to breathe. I feel like every time I open Twitter it is a huge rookie feast and it's not cool. It is like the world has forgotten they just got done playing their asses off in March and now you expect them to come into a league, freshly adapted to a different game," you say and continue before anyone can cut you off. "It was just a few days ago when I saw something circulating about how these rookies are facing a rude awakening and I laughed. I laugh because people are not looking at the whole picture. Looking at her box score is not a fair assessment of her game. I've been able to catch a few of the Fever games and yes, they have room to grow but all of our teams do. Do you all see the way she is running the floor? Have you looked into how many times she touches the ball? Like, come on, her vision of the game is the same as it was in college - she is now, alongside a team, are both learning how to adapt to play with her. You all may not say she is coming in and dominating but just watch - she will have you all stunned by the Olympic break - use that a headline."

You glance back at your media manager and they have they are rubbing their eyes as their head shakes back and forth. You personally don't think you have said anything out of line but you know you'll get an earful for something. And you do but not as badly as you thought you would.

On the other side of things, Caitlin gets out of a game where she went 8/5/9. She got in her head and stayed there. She gets out of her own post-presser to see a link from Jada.

When Caitlin opens it, she sees you with the headline '[Clark] will have everyone stunned by Olympic break'. Caitlin quickly opens the link and watches you talk. A smile can't help but make its way to her face as you call the media out and speak praises about her.

'Just wait until you see this game, if you see this game', Caitlin thinks as she flinches again at the thought of her efficiency this last game. The link is followed by Jada being Jada.

[Jadaaa: Your girl's got your back, think you can work up the nerve to talk to her when you face off in a few weeks?]

Caitlin knows the younger girl is joking but the feeling that swells in the pit of her stomach thinking about talking to you has her feeling sick.

As much as Caitlin doesn't want to think about you, she does. She can't help it. The last time she faced up against you, you handed her the single worst game she has ever played and in her mind, she wants to show you what she's got.

Little to her knowledge, you were also looking forward to your match-up against the rookie. It has been years since you played against her and look forward to seeing how she has grown. Also, to see how you two match up in the W.

The game finally comes, too slowly in Caitlin's eyes but finally here.

You are the first one on the court. It's not unusual for anyone who knows you but when Caitlin walks out, she stops dead in her tracks. She should have known you would be on the court already but she was so used to being the first one out that it never occurred to her that there would be someone else out there with her.

Caitlin makes her way out and begins to warm up herself. She wants to go over and talk to you but chooses to keep stealing glances. Soon enough, the whole team is out doing a shoot around and the opportunity has passed.

The game is about to begin as the teams take the floor. You go over and hug one of Cait's teammates and high-five the others. When you make your way to Caitlin, everything moves in slow motion for the younger girl.

You come up to her, wrapping one of your arms around her waist. You lean in and whisper something only she can hear.

"Have fun today, it's just you and me on the court - forget about everyone else, and let's have some fun." You tell her.

Caitlin smiles and nods as her cheeks heat up from your closeness. You pat her lower back and get positioned.

The game is a battle.

You play like you have been since the beginning of the season. You hit your double-double in the third quarter and are working towards a triple-double, which would be the second one of the season if you get there.

Cait is also playing better than she has yet and you can even see a little smile come out every now and again.

It is in the fourth when the two of you are standing next to each other during one of your team's free throws.

"Having fun?" You ask.

"Actually, I am," she says, surprising herself with her answer.

"It will get more fun, just wait and see. You're getting there C," you say and she smiles.

"I actually want to tha-" Caitlin begins but is cut short when your teammate knocks down both free throws and the ball is back in the Fever's possession.

The fourth quarter finishes and your team had come out on top by just 2 points. The closest game of the season thus far. It was probably the most fun you had in a game since you got to the W.

In the post-presser, you are asked about the rookie guard again.

"Now that you have faced Caitlin firsthand, what are some challenges you see in her game?" a male reporter asks.

You flat-out laugh at the question.

"You're kidding me, right?" You say and you already see your media manager waving her hands in the air to stop whatever it is you are about to say.

"I am tired of you guys hounding her into the ground. She played a tremendous game today - what was it, another double-double for the rookie? What more does she have to do to show you all she is already dominating in the W? This is midway through her first season playing the sport professionally. She is already doing the damn thing. What you all should be asking is how much more capable is she? If she is doing this in her first year, what will she be doing next year? In 2 years? 5? Like come on, she is already playing better than any of you could so I don't know why we are still talking about what she can't do," you say and stand, tired of their stupid questions.

You are on your way out when you add one last thing.

"Caitlin Clark is a force of nature. She is one of one, I said it about her in college and I will say it again with her in the W. She is unlike anyone we have seen before and you should all be more concerned with how high her ceiling is versus how low to the ground she stands."

You walk out and wait for your media manager to rip you another new one. You don't care and just take it.

When you get back to your hotel, you ignore all the things you are tagged in and open Caitlin's profile.

[You: Hey, this may seem out of the blue but I wanted to let you know I am on team Caitlin. You know the media spins things but keep your head down and play your game and they will see. I've been where you are, I know the media is a circus. Feel free to call or text if you need anything]

You follow your first message with a second that contains your number. It was a little bold and your motives are pure, mostly.

No one asked but if they did, you would tell them that you remember playing Caitlin in college. You remember how your one and only match-up was one of the toughest of your college career. You would speak to how you have followed her ever since, catching every game you could when she played. You were just as mesmerized as she was and neither of you had a clue.

Cait gets back to her apartment and falls on her bed. She unlocks her phone for the first time since the game, a rare occasion but she doesn't want anything to do with what the media was saying about her after that game.

Similarly to when you first followed her, she shoots up to a sitting position on her bed. She scans the message a thousand times.

Caitlin, who was just tired is now wide awake and smiling. She cannot believe her favorite player (and crush) has just given her phone number.

Her phone begins to go crazy in an old team group chat.

[Jadaaa: CAITLIN FREAKIN CLARK]

Jada then sends a link to another post-game presser.

[KMoney: Bro, it is your game to lose now. She's pro-Clark]

[Stulke: I'll start planning the wedding!]

[Caitlin: I bet you can't guess who just got her number 🫣]

[Jadaaa: SHUT UP]

[Stulke: Yep, wedding planning in progress]

[KMoney: I call dibs on making a speech]

[Jadaaa: Get in line Kate, I am getting first speech]

[Caitlin: Shut up]

Caitlin debated sending you a message but decided to wait until the morning. When Caitlin wakes up, she shoots you a text.

[C: Hi...I want to say thank you for always defending me. You really don't have to but I appreciate it]

[C: It's Caitlin btw]

[C: Caitlin Clark if that wasn't clear]

Caitlin feels like an idiot after she texts three times in a row. She locks her phone and throws her head into her pillow with a groan when she hears a 'ding'. She pulls her phone up to her face.

[You: I thought you weren't going to message]

[You: It's cute that you felt the need to put your first and last name]

[C: Didn't want to get mixed up with someone else]

[C: I don't know how often you hand out your number]

[You: Not often]

[You: So...who is Caitlin Clark?]

The two of you messaged pretty consistently. Messages turned to phone calls, phone calls turned to Facetimes then before you knew it you both were talking about anything and everything.

Caitlin's season has gotten better as the Fever as a team has grown, winning more games in a stretch than losing.

It is a few games later after a win that Caitlin is sitting in a post-presser with Aliyah. An interviewer asks if Caitlin has seen the clips of you talking about her in her post-pressers.

Caitlin blushes and looks down, trying to hide her rosy cheeks. Aliyah chuckles and nudges the girl who is now covering her uncontrolled smile with a towel.

"Ya...I've seen them," she says as she removes the towel to show her smile. "I think it is pretty cool how she stands up for me. I have been watching her for years now and love her game so it means a lot when she speaks of me with such grace."

"Ya, I've caught CC watching that presser probably five times now," Aliyah says throwing Caitlin to the wolves. Someone's got to do it right?

Caitlin playfully pushes Aliyah.

"Way to out me," Caitlin says and hides her face again.

There aren't many more questions asked and Caitlin feels like she is in the clear. That is until she gets a call from you.

"Hi," she says with a smile. She doesn't know it but you can tell by her tone when she is smiling.

"Five times, five times is a lot C," you tease her.

She is glad you aren't standing in front of her because the blush that had subsided from the presser is fully back. The truth is that she watched it 15+ times now.

"What can I say? I like watching people praise me," she says trying to speak with confidence.

"Isn't that cute," you say.

"And you are the one who is calling me right after I get out of a presser and you are calling me obsessed?" Caitlin asks.

"That's fair, I won't call next time," you say and Caitlin immediately says 'no'. You laugh and she is thankful you can't see how fast her face turned red.

The conversation is light and flirty before she has to go.

"I'll see you at All-Star weekend," you say, and are looking forward to seeing the rookie. It would be another fun match-up with you being on the Olympic team and her being an All-Star.

"I look forward to kicking your ass," she says, the confidence in her voice dominating over the phone.

You laugh and give her some nonsense response. You've learned she wouldn't talk a big game to the public but when it was just the two of you, that's a completely different story. To you, she talks a big game and you let her. You know she has the game to back it up but you also know you have the ability to slow her down and that is exactly what the plan is for your next meeting.

The weekend arrives and the fun begins. You are included in the starting lineup for the Olympic team while Caitlin is in the starting lineup for the All-Stars.

Your eyes meet hers and you smile. She returns it as you walk up to her. You greet her.

"You ready?" You ask as you pinch at her hip. She swats your hand and shakes her head but your hands are persistent.

"Oh I am more than ready," she says trying to hide her smile.

"Why don't we put a little skin in the game," you say as you lean into her.

"I win, I get to take you out," you say and Caitlin feels a heat rise in her.

"And what do I get if I win?" She chokes out.

"Whatever. You. Want," you say. Caitlin smirks.

"You're on," she says as the two of you shake on it.

The two of you go head-to-head in the game. Caitlin plays one of the best games she has in the W so far. You take note of how hard the girl is working but you also put in the work, having quite the game yourself.

In the final minutes, the score is tied. Your teams switch off points as the seconds wind down.

You have control of the ball, trying to set up the play. Caitlin is guarding you - poking her hand in to try to get the ball away from your hands. You turn and use the screen that Stewie sets up for you, stepping back you put up the three. As you come down, Cait gives you a little push causing you to fall to the ground but you just catch sight of the ball bouncing on and then out of the rim.

Caitlin then proceeds to stand over you, in the heat of the moment, showing you and the crowd that she is tough.

You get to your feet and bump her chest - exchanging a few words.

Someone comes and pushes you back from Cait while they grab Caitlin's arm but you don't back down, bumping Caitlin again.

By now both of your teams have gotten involved and the refs are trying to separate the two of you. As you feel yourself being pulled back you blow Caitlin a kiss.

You both receive techs.

In the final few seconds, all you have to do is not foul and play solid defense which you do, making Caitlin pass it for the final shot that doesn't fall. Team USA taking the victory.

As you celebrate with the team on the court, you also go and hug your opponents from the night making a conscious decision to end with Cait.

When you go in to hug her, you can tell she is moody.

"I'm picking you up at 10 tonight, be ready," you say and wink at her.

As much as Caitlin wanted to win, she couldn't help but be excited.

Once everyone clears out and makes their way back to the hotel, you quickly shower and head to pick Cait up.

When you get to her door and knock, she answers within seconds.

"Someone is a little eager," you joke and she blushes.

"Well it's 10:20 so technically you're late," she says.

You laugh.

"Okay C, come on," you say and lead her on a walk. The two of you talk and she opens up about her experience so far, asking you questions left and right. You answer every single one of them.

"Where are you taking me?" She asks, half expecting the two of you to just stay in her room.

"Patience, we are almost there," you say as you make a turn and Caitlin sees it.

You have brought her to an outdoor court. It is dimly lit and there is a single basketball laying on one side.

You jog to pick up the ball and she walks over to you.

"I just had the best game of my career so far and you want me to play more?" She asks trying to sound annoyed but she isn't annoyed at all.

"Thought we could play a little one-on-one," you say bouncing the ball between your legs before passing it to her. You can tell she is a little skeptical but goes along with it. She begins to bounce the ball and your hand immediately finds her hip, giving it a squeeze like you did before the last game. The same blush as before rose in her cheeks. She works her way around you but your arms wrap around her waist not letting her go anywhere.

"Foul," she yells as you pick her up with her still holding the ball.

"This isn't a normal game babe," you say and she gets the hint. You put her down, still standing right behind her with your hands on her hips. "Take a shot," you whisper in her ear as your lips graze her neck.

Caitlin swallows and puts up the shot missing it.

"That's not fair," she says turning around.

"Better luck next time," you say bringing your hand to graze her cheek. Your eyes go from her eyes down to her lips as you lean in painfully slow.

Caitlin grabs your shirt and anticipates your lips on hers. When they never come, she pouts.

You run to grab the ball and pass it to her again.

"No bucket, no kiss," you say and you can see her demeanor change.

Caitlin locks in.

"Oh it's on," she says as she is ready for the one-on-one action.

AN: Here you go! Let me know what you think! And as always, thank you for your love and support 🤍

[loganwritesprobably]

When You're In Danger - Straw Hats (Monster Trio)

Content/warnings: GN!Reader, Luffy, Zoro and Sanji headcanons, canon-typical violence referenced, injuries referenced, these men believe in your independence and your abilities!

Part two feat. Nami, Robin and Jinbei

While Luffy hates the idea of you getting hurt, he knows he can't stop it

He'd never expect you to idle by when a fight happens just because he doesn't want you getting hurt

He knows that you're capable, and he's proud of that fact

He'd keep an ear out for you though, as you continued your own fights, just in case

If you were in serious danger that you couldn't combat yourself, Luffy would move heaven and Earth to make sure you were safe

If you got hurt despite him rushing to your rescue, he would blame himself, but he would internalise that

If anyone stood in his way on his path to your side to defend you, they wouldn't be standing for much longer

Monkey D Luffy is a beast, and seas forbid anyone forgets thet

If you were hurt in a battle because you were outmatched, Luffy wouldn't leave your side for anything until he was sure you'd be okay

He trusts Chopper instinctively, but you're too special to lose

Zoro knows, perhaps even more than you know yourself, that you can handle danger. He trusts you to know how to protect yourself

He taught you how after all

So generally speaking he doesn't worry much about you when a fight begins, instead he oozes a quiet confidence

Zoro also knows when he or the crew are outmatched

The crew are brilliant, and have their own skills, but they're all at different combat levels - you're not on the same level as him

If he knew a fight would be too much for you, he'd seek you out in order to assist you

Needing help doesn't make you weak, it just shows you what you need to improve on

It would be second nature for him to find you, one of the rare times that he has a sense of direction

If you became injured because of his failure to protect you, he'd punish himself with intensified training, forcing himself to work harder

If he can't protect you, then what's the point? You're the only thing as important as his dream and Luffy

He wouldn't be able to look at you for a while after, afraid that you also weren't going to forgive him for his failure

Zoro would cut anyone down, ally or foe, to get to you in times of danger

Sanji knows when you're in trouble as if it's a sixth sense

Even if he thinks you can handle himself, he'll rush from his own fight to appear at your side and see for himself that you're coping

It's almost uncanny, how fast he can be there at your side

He only steps in if he's absolutely sure you need him to, because the last thing he wants is to step on your toes if you can handle it

He knows how good it feels to succeed

If you do need him to get involved, he's there before you can ask out loud. He sees it in your face and your body language

He dispatches whatever was causing you problems as fast as he can, then makes sure that you're okay

You even rank above Nami in terms of importance for him. The entire crew loves Nami and can help her - nobody loves you quite like Sanji does

If he can't get there in time, the person who hurt you will have the highest price to pay: a slow and painful death

Nobody is allowed to hurt you, not as long as he lives

He'll apologise to you profusely once the job is done, and spend at least a week if not more at your beck and call doing whatever you need ask him to do

You best be ready to eat your favourite meals every day until he's satisfied that he has apologised enough

Requests are open! See below links for my other works, and how to leave requests. I write both canon/canon and canon/reader requests for your enjoyment

AO3 | Fanfic Masterlist | Request Rules | Fic Trades Guide | WIPs

Tags: @claryeverlarkf

[yandere-kokeshi]

Warnings: yandere, grammer not checked, and bad detailed smut.

Desperate yandere! Simon Ghost Riley is a whole other level. The type of man who forces himself to be submissive towards you. He always adores you, looking at you with heart-shaped eyes.

Behind the glass — Ghost is popularly known for his terrifying stare, structure, and skull mask. A large killing spree that leaves others choked. Most fear him and know what he's capable of. Wrath and anger. Fast and serious.

But with you, he becomes extremely overwhelmed; gasping quietly at every touch you give him. Especially on his right pec; the scar thick and sensitive. Goosebumps trailing all over his body when you hold his hand, because he feels like he doesn't deserve it. Feeling a little lost at what to do, and begs softly for sex.

His kisses are sloppy — too wet and slippery, too eager to feel you, and ends up accidentally nipping your lips with his sharp teeth. A small sorry mumbling out onto your skin, and I'll make it up, ends up with him bucking his hips onto yours with a large boner. Feeling your hands go through his hair, grasping it gently when he nips at your lips again, makes him go over the edge. Cumming at your gasps, and ends up hiding his face in your lower stomach, embarrassed of his mess. He only gets harder when you praise him, telling him it's okay.

Or how he gives oral, he lives for it like gifting flowers.

Begs for your cock / cunt as an evening snack when he comes home from work; planting himself on his knees, not changing clothes, curling his arms around your legs whilst talking nonsense; only telling you that, I want ya'. He rubs his face directly on top of your crotch, breath blowing hot, whilst promising to make you feel good. And when you finally agree, his eyes light up- glistening like a rare rock. He ends up dishing out many sounds, slurping away at your sex, who quickly becomes drunk that he could be easily mistaken for the one receiving.

He plays with your sex — massaging his spit into your skin like lotion and licking your cum like sweets. He mentions on how a piercing would doll you up, show you just how pretty you are. He'd love to get matching ones.

Oh and, the sex is hot. At times too fast, loving and soft, yet desperate. He fucks you like a rabbit, mumbling I love you so fuckin' much in your ear when he cums for the 3rd time in a row. You've lost how many times you have, and he begs for another round; promising that it'll be the last and how he'll treat you like a god when you two are done. But as soon as his thighs grind against yours, and his hips slap against yours, his lips sucking on your neck, it tells you that he's not going to stop anytime soon.

At times when he looks at you in public, his knees get weak, finding your body too perfect, and he gets hard. His possessive touches barely leave you alone, grinding his hard-on you and begging for you to let him have you. It's only a matter of seconds when you two make it to the bathroom stall, hollow hope that it would act fast. But as soon as he moaned, putting his tip into your sunken sex, he loses all hope of control.

Simon clenches his teeth as he grabs your ass, pulling you on top of his lap completely as he controls you; keeping you trapped in his large arms, his cock hitting your g-spot perfectly. He whispers small: 'm sorry, you feel so fuckin' good, and many strings of profanities.

Until he cums — filling you to the brim, making you gasp out, as he moans. Simon pushes his face into yours, kissing your lips and cheeks whilst apologizing. It's only a matter of small confusion as he starts rubbing his hips into yours, nudging his face into your neck with many apologizes. He starts over again, making you two have many orgasms to come.

[cherryredcheol]

"peach"

tldr: all the ways wonwoo uses your nickname

a/n: this gets a little nsfw at the end, so MINORS DNI!

purrs: with his head in your lap

“peach” his voice rumbled up from your lap, breaking the comfortable silence that had enveloped the two of you thirty minutes prior. your fingers halted in his hair, movie playing on the tv forgotten. he had just dyed it black and to say you liked it was an understatement. you always thought he looked best with black hair. 

“mmmmm” he hummed turning his head to your stomach pressing a kiss there, letting his lips linger. you squeal as he blows a raspberry on your belly, tickling you. you push his head off your lap, forcing him to sit up. he turns to look at you smiling as he pushes up his glasses. 

“i love you so much peach” he confesses, simile widening when you repeat the sentiment, something he never grows tired of hearing from you.

“if i promise not to blow another raspberry will you keep playing with my hair? it feels so nice…”

bellows: but never at you

“fuck, peach!” he shouted. you flinched beside him on the couch. he was so excited to play the new mario game. finally being able to play as the princess from which his name for you derived pleased him to no end. he could hardly wait to play the game, blocking out an entire sunday for you two to hang out and play together. you lost interest quickly, wanting to watch him play instead.

“not you, obviously.” he explained. it was all going really well until he got to the later levels and started losing lives. he was starting to get frustrated and it was making you giggle. he always looked so cute when he was frustrated with a game. it amused you, especially after his fourth death in a row at the same section. 

“are you laughing at me?” he looks at you, eyebrow raised, game music still playing in the background since he didn’t even bother to pause before he turned to see the source of your laughter. this only caused you to laugh harder. he rolled his eyes, “just wait peach, i’ll beat this level.”

teases: in front of the members

“peeaacchhh” he sing-songs from his spot on the floor. sat cross-legged on the hardwood of the pactice room exhausted from the day of learning choreography, he plays it cool, like he wasn’t watching the door for the last 30 minutes waiting for you. upon entering the room you were swarmed with boys, none of them the one you actually came to see. your eyes searched the room, not spotting him over mingyu’s huge figure.

“yah! let her through!” he reprimanded, finally getting up from his spot to greet you, a smirk on his lips when he saw how excited you were to finally lay eyes on him. he wrapped an arm around your waist, pressing a kiss to your temple, bringing a blush to your cheeks. 

“miss me so much you just had to visit. huh, peach? couldn’t wait for me to get home?” he teased, poking at your side, pulling a giggle out of you. he wrapped two arms around you, holing you tight, “missed you too.”

praises: on a live 

“I love peach” he says plainly, replying to a comment on his stream. you choke from the other side of the room, eyes bulging as you try not to cough on the water you just swallowed, thinking he had just exposed your relationship, something you thought neither of you were ready for. 

“i think it’s simply the best flavor for all candies” he clarifies to the audience, causing your heart rate to return to normal, glad he decided to keep things private, but making a mental note to scold him later. eventually, you got bored and left the room, entertaining yourself with a drama on the tv in the living room. he joined you a little later and knew immediately what was on your mind when you sent a glare his way, 

“of course i said i loved peach. i don't want to be a liar.” he explains, kissing your forehead, smoothing out the creases from your frown. “besides,” he continues, “i wouldn’t steal your hard-launch instagram moment like that.”

monotones: when he catches you in the act

“peach.”  one syllable and your heart stops. you’ve been caught red-handed. you knew the rules and you broke them. he didn’t usually mind but only if he was home to lend a hand if you needed it. didn’t want his gaming set-up broken just because you accidentally connected a loose wire into the wrong port. he didn’t think you were incompetent, he just had a very expensive set-up and was a little protective. 

“you know you’re not supposed to use my stuff when i’m not home.” he pins you with a cold stare and you know no matter how much you explain yourself, that you just wanted to check on your webkinz you haven’t tended to in over a decade, it’s useless. 

“i’ll give you five minutes to be naked and ass up in bed. if you’re not ready to go by the time five minutes is up, your punishment doubles, got it?” he looks at you, eyebrows raised, waiting for a response. you nod, logging off, smirking to yourself, you’d just gotten exactly what you wanted in the first place. 

[afterglowkatie]

pair of pests: missing you ˏˋ°•*⁀ steph catley x catley!reader, short fic/blurb

steph catley x catley!reader | 1.1k | based off of this ask

ˏˋ°•*⁀ just a little warning that it involves like themes of grief/grieving and the mentions of a loss of a loved one

You were in your mid teens when your dad passed away. It was hard on you, it was hard on your whole family. But you all stuck together and gave each other the support you all needed. Specifically your older sister had been there for you, fulfilling her older sister duties. You gave what you could give back to Steph, though the age difference meant that she could support you more than you could give to her. 

Eventually everyone had to go back on with their own lives. Part of you felt stuck, since your sister wasn’t around all that much focusing on her career and playing overseas a few years, you’d grown quite close with your dad. You’d had a close bond, he had been supporting your youth career in football since Steph had less time to spend with you and less time to support you, though you know she was doing her best and you’d never fault Steph.

You tried to move on, continue with school and youth football, but everything had been associated quite heavily with your dad. The drive to training wasn’t the same, your mum tried but you couldn’t stop thinking about the endless car karaoke you’d have with your dad on the way. Whenever you’d get stuck with your homework you’d forget and go to find your dad before you’d have the sudden realisation that you couldn’t do that anymore. You’d never forget the late nights where your dad wouldn’t stop til he was able to help you with anything you couldn’t understand.

Steph did her best to help you through it, but it was hard when you stopped opening up to her until the night before her surgery when you broke down scared that something would happen and you’d lose her as well. Every year since, you always had a hard time around the anniversary of his passing. Even if you didn’t realise the date was coming up, your body knew and would send you into a spiral. Your stomach constantly felt heavy and nauseous all the time. Your mood always dropped, even if you didn’t notice it, but you’d go quiet and barely interact with anyone other than Steph or your mum.

This year was no different. In fact it was a lot harder. You had properly started playing football with your older sister at the same club. It was a dream that you’d always talked to your dad about, it had turned into both yours and your dads dream to see it happen one day. Though back then you didn’t know that it would ever happen and you didn’t know that if it did, he wouldn’t even get to see it.

Steph, being focused with the upcoming olympics and thoughts of captaining her country through it, she’d been distracted and not noticed that time of year was fast approaching. She only realised when she noticed you’d always seek Steph out, especially during training, glued to her side. Any other time you’d be out annoying Mini alongside Kyra and Charli.

You’d been a part of the world cup squad the year before, so the team were quite aware of how you react this time of year. They all kept a bit of space around you, not pushing you to interact as much, but they did little things to try to cheer you up and make it easier for you. The teammates you were close with at club level would send you little messages throughout the days. You appreciated the efforts your national and club teammates would go to for you.

Steph was really the only person who could make you feel better. She was your sister and in a way it felt like she was the closest connection you still had to your dad, ‘You doing okay?’ Your sister asked while she pulled you into her room and into her arms. You couldn’t sleep and had found your way to the room your sister was staying in.

You didn’t actually reply, knowing that if you spoke the walls you had up would break down and you’d crumble. Not something you really wanted to happen. Part of you felt silly for still feeling and reacting this way. It’d been years now and you felt that you should’ve found a way to cope that wasn’t disconnecting from everyone around you. Truth was you lost your dad young and had to grow up a bit faster than you should’ve and no one would blame you for how you’re reacting. No one but yourself.

Instead of talking, you tightly wrapped your arms around Steph, hiding your face in her neck. Steph could feel how tense you were and your silence spoke louder than any words could’ve. Your older sister understood you and you couldn’t be more thankful, ‘Can we watch a movie? One of his favourites?’ 

Steph knew the right movie to put on that would bring you some sense of comfort. Slipping into her bed, pulling you so you were lying cuddled against her side. Your head met Steph’s shoulder and her hand gently rubbed the top of your arm. It was peaceful, it was comforting. If you pretended hard enough you were a kid again watching movies in your childhood home on a little mini couch that you and your older sister shared while you’d fight with your older brother claiming he was stealing all your popcorn, with your parents on the main couch watching on with amused expressions. Time was cruel.

‘He’d be proud of you, of both of us. You know that right? Especially you. The amount of times he’d end up talking about you whenever we’d call,’ Steph smiled softly, breaking the silence half-way through the movie. She knows what you’re like and doesn’t want you to get too lost in your own thoughts, the older sister nature to protect you and help you deal with things in a more healthy way.

‘When I was little, when you’d first moved overseas to play,’ Your voice was quiet and soft, but loud enough that Steph could hear you. You’d turned a little so you were looking at your sister, ‘I’d always tell dad that my dream was to play in a big club with you. One that wasn’t in Australia. Every night I’d make him wish on the stars for it to happen,’ You smiled softly remembering all the times you’d drag your dad to the window, right before bedtime, looking up at the stars and wishing for your one biggest dream to come true, ‘I think he made sure it happened,’ Tears welled in both your eyes at the thought. You’d always say it was written in the stars that you were playing with Steph at Arsenal now. But now Steph understood the deeper meaning to your words.

[simpjaes]

mtl to be pussy drunk?

MTL: hyung line + being pussy drunk

most

★ jake: the obvious first choice. his eyes go crossed when your pussy hugs him just right. whether it be hugging his fingers, tongue, or cock. and when those eyes are crossing and rolling back, he's gonna be babbling the most insane, incoherent dirty words you could possibly think of. the only words you'd really be able to comprehend through all of the choked back curses would be "wanna be deeper, please, let me go deeper" despite already being in as far as he can go, and "feels so good when you just take it", reminding you that he literally renders you incapable of moving with that death grip he keeps on you. honestly, jake would get off entirely untouched if you simply sat in front of him and spread your legs. he is constantly pussy drunk.

☆ jay: normally he can keep his composure. normally, he's just a soft boyfriend willing to wrestle the goddamn moon down for you if you so much as blink at it. honestly, he's always in control of his emotions til he's got both hands holding your thighs open, rubbing his cock up and down the slippery folds. you see him lose all sense of control every time, that little flicker in his eye, the tensing of his jaw, and the intentionally slow and near painful slide into you all so he can fucking savor the last bit of his sanity before he's quite literally breaking the bed with the two of you in it. the words he gives you through his drunken stupor of your dripping cunt is more than likely to be heard right up against your lips. a half-hearted chuckle with a drawn out moan, words of "right there, right? this is what you wanted?" not at all admitting that he's just about as fucking insane as you are when it comes to this. not at all admitting that this control he pretends to have while absolutely losing himself in you? oh, it could break entirely, all you'd have to do is shove him back and fucking take him.

★ sunghoon: more than likely to keep his control solely because well, sweet in the streets, freak in the sheets right? someone has to be of sound mind given the uh, bedroom life the two of you live. but man is it hard for him to keep himself stable-minded when you wrap your legs around him and refuse to let him thrust back more than an inch or two. you're the one who drives him into the drunken state. hearing his level moans break the second your legs lock around his waist with a small "fuck, don't do this again," as if it's some sort of warning. "you know you can't stop me if you--" you'd just squeeze your legs around him harder, forcing him as deep as he can go. A guttural grunt would fall from his lips, he'd break entirely, thrusting his hips into you so hard that your legs immediately loosen and fall from around his waist. He wouldn't let up either. Those hard thrusts are tight, intentional, and deep. It's what you want, of course, to see your lovely level-headed boyfriend absolutely fucking lose it.

☆ heeseung: oh, of course he gets pussy drunk but i think he's far more inclined to see you be cock-drunk for him. messy blow jobs until you're whining and begging for more. just wanting it inside of you no matter where. honestly, he fucks your throat so good it could make you cum without anything being put inside of you. Ah, but he's such a good fuck. You know that as long as you lose your mind for him, he'll return the favor. only after you prove your worthy mouth to him will he do the same for you, lapping and lapping at your folds until his mind can only think of fucking you. always so quick with it too. one second you're gripping his hair and rolling your eyes back, the next you feel a split second of nothing before, ah, he's sliding in rough and hard, causing you to yelp loudly. "Yeah, just like that, squeeze it." that's all you'd hear before your ears start ringing. especially when you glance up and see how hard he's staring at the way his cock disappears inside of you. a feral man, totally obsessed with the image.

least

[cheeeeseburger]

Illicit affairs

Sergio Perez x Reader

Masterlist

A/N: Hi, I'm not sure about this one! English is not my first language, apologies for the mistakes!

You and Sergio had just gotten into a fight.  It was a big one, the kind that left you wanting space from the other. Since the hotel room forced you to be in the same space, you had gotten on a long walk around town. You had time to think, and although it hurt, your choice was made.

As soon as you walked in the hotel room, Sergio got up from where he was sitting on the bed. “Mi pastelito, I was worried you were not going to come back.” He pulled you in his arms. You hugged him back, taking care to note how he smells, the way it feels to be in his arms, how loved you felt. “This was a stupid fight. Let’s forget about it, okay?” he asked while carefully brushing your hair with his fingers. You immediately got teary eyes.

“Sergio, we need to talk.” You pulled his hand, so you were both sitting on the edge of the bed. He looked so concerned that it only made you want to cry harder. “¿Qué pasa?” You took a deep breath before saying out loud something that would break both of your hearts.

“I think we should stop seeing each other. I can’t be your mistress anymore.”

Every single word from those two sentences hurt. You had been his mistress for the last two years, ever since you had fallen for his charms at a GP. Since you were working for an F1 team, you were at all the races, and you and him naturally started and affair. You knew what you two shared wasn’t right, you knew you were the other woman, but you two shared something so special that you ignored all your moral judgement. You just listened to a lot of Lana Del Rey and cried whenever the urge to publicly show off your love was too strong.

Being his lover was a terribly beautiful thing. Nobody on Earth could ever feel as loved as you when you were with Sergio in private. He adored you and worshiped you for your mind, your body, your love. During those moments, you pretended he was your fiancé, your husband, the father of your children. You cosplayed as his wife. But your fantasy was always interrupted. In public, he had his wife and kids, and you stood to the side, pretending your heart was not longing for more, acting like you didn’t even know him. You let guys flirt with you since you were technically single. They all thought you were playing hard to get when you didn’t text them back.

But after two years of this illicit affair, your heart couldn’t take it anymore. The guilt was starting to be overwhelming. You were afraid of confessing everything anytime someone mentioned his name. This wasn’t fair to you or his family, and that’s why you had to stop seeing each other.

“What? Are you serious?” Unfortunately, you were. You batted your eyelashes to chase the tears away. “Sergio, this has been going on for too long. I can’t live with the thought that I’m possibly a homewrecker.” He looked at his ring finger that was always empty whenever you were together.

“Mi pastelito, you’re not a homewrecker, my wife doesn’t know about us, and she will never find out! We don’t have to stop, please don’t make us stop.” He was in agony, truly panicking when he thought about losing you. You caressed his face, trying to comfort him. You needed comforting too.  “Baby, you know the truth always comes out, especially with your level of fame. This isn’t fair to your children or your wife. I can’t be the one to ruin your relationship with your family.” A selfish little voice inside of you was screaming at you to ruin his family, make him divorce his wife so he’d finally fully be yours. Mine mine mine mine

“I’ll divorce my wife. My children, they’ll understand. It will be fine!” The selfish voice roared at his words, but the rest of you didn’t.  At this point, he was desperate, trying everything to make you stay. “Don’t say that. You don’t mean it. If you divorce your wife to be with me, one day, you will wake up and realize that this was all a mistake, that you should have stayed with her. You’ll start to resent me, I’m sure. I love you too much to let you do that,” you said softly, like you would to a child.

Sergio closed his eyes and let you comfort him. You continued: “I don’t want to be the other woman anymore. I want to be someone’s girlfriend in public, maybe even someone’s wife. I want to kiss you after a race, I want to go out in a restaurant with you, I want the whole world to know we’re in love, but I know you can’t give it to me.”

He immediately protested. “Mi pastelito, that’s what I’m saying! I’ll get a divorce, and I’ll marry you instead. I’ll get you a big diamond ring. We can have a big wedding, so everyone will see. Please, mi amor, give us a chance!”

You gave him a soft kiss. Saying yes would be so easy, and it was everything you wanted. But you could never live with yourself if he let his family down for you. “Baby, it’s okay. It’s all okay. In a few minutes, I’m going to leave this hotel room, and you’ll have to let me go, okay? We will probably see each other at the races, but we will look away and continue walking. The only thing I ask for is that you be the best version of yourself for your wife and your children. Please, work on your marriage, take care of your wife, be the perfect father for your children. You owe me that much.” You were both crying now, realizing that in a few minutes, you would never be in each other’s lives ever again. In a few minutes, you would walk out as a free woman, heartbroken but free, nonetheless.

“I promise. I’ll really try, even though you will always be in my heart. I will always look for you in a crowd, always wish that things had been different. I love you, mi pastelito.” It was his turn to comfort you. He took your hands and gently caressed them.

“I love you too, so much it hurts.” You smiled weakly through the tears. “When I’ll see you with you wife and children, I will be happy. I’ll know that we have done the right things. And when you see me in the paddock with some other guy, you’ll have to be happy, too.” He made a pained face at the last part.

“You know I could never be happy to see you with someone else. You should be with me.” He looked so sad, so hurt.

“Then you know how I have felt for the last two years, whenever I saw you with your wife. That’s why I must go, baby.” You kissed him, and Sergio and you knew it was the last kiss you two would ever share.

It was tender, filled with love and adoration for the other. It tasted like “maybe in another life” and “how come we can’t be together in this one?”. The kiss felt like heartbreak and love at the same time. When you pulled away, the look in his eyes almost crushed you to death. Leaving him was the most difficult thing you had ever done. When you stood up from the bed, he did not let go of your hand. He tried to pull you back, but you stood strong. When he realized you were actually leaving, he kissed your hand and laid his head on your arm. This was the final act of your story. You were the one that got away. If this was a movie, the director would get an Oscar for filmography and another one for screenplay.

He finally let go of you, after what could’ve been minutes or hours. You did not dare to look back as you stepped out of the room, because you knew the look of anguish and despair on his face would be the death of you. When you closed the door, you were not longer a mistress, but a lovesick woman. At least, you were guilt-free. Almost guilt-free.

。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+

The next few weeks were hell. You were missing your lover like crazy, and apparently, so did he, because he had sent multiple texts asking to see you again. Even though the temptation was there, you did not reply to any of his messages. You did read them multiple times and cried a lot over them, but that doesn’t count, right?

The fact that you were working in F1 and attending all the races didn’t help. You wanted to swoon every time you saw Sergio’s face on a poster. On a few occasions you almost ran into him, but you always managed to hide before he could see you. Your heartbeat was so fast and so loud, you swore he would discover you because of it.

To distract you and to respect your part of the deal, you started seeing an engineer. It had been four months since you lost your title of Sergio’s mistress, and when he asked you out, you said yes. He was kind, gentle, and way more into you than you were into him. In other words, he was the perfect rebound.

It was the week of the Australian GP, and the guy who was now your boyfriend took you to a nice restaurant to celebrate your two months. Honestly, things were going great. You were taking things slow with him, and although your stupid heart betrayed you by beating fast every time you saw Sergio, you weren’t nearly as upset as you were three months ago. You felt good about yourself.

You excused yourself to go to the bathroom before dessert. It really was a nice place. You might have had one too many Aperol Spritz, though.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, please excuse me!” You apologized as you ran into a man. When you looked up, it was Mr. Sergio Perez himself, thankfully without Mrs. Perez. That would have been awkward, or at least more awkward than this already was.

“Mi pastelito, it’s you. It’s really you,” was all Sergio said. He wasn’t sure if you were real or not. Perhaps you were cake?

“Hi,” you avoided his gaze and tried to run away, but he grabbed your arm. His touch immediately took you back to endless illicit nights spend together, where you had to restrain yourself from leaving marks on his body. Instead, he left love bites on yours.

“Are you really going to run away from me? Hide from me once again?” Oh, so he had seen you. Oops.

“Sergio, I don’t think this is a good idea. I’m on a date right now, we’re celebrating our two months” you confessed sheepishly.

He held on to your arm possessively. “Yes, I heard everything about that new boyfriend of yours. Congratulations, I guess.” He pulled you closer to him, so he could whisper in your ear. “But I don’t think you’ve truly moved on. I know I sure as hell haven’t. Mi pastelito, does he know you’ll never love him like you loved me? Like you still love me?” He pulled back then kissed you on each cheek, like you were old acquaintances meeting again. “It was lovely to see you. Have fun on your date, mi amor.”

He left you standing there, in shock and more in love with him than you had ever been. A five-minute interaction with him made you head over heels once again. How cruel was that for you, but also for your new boyfriend. When you went back to your seat, your boyfriend happily informed you that an anonymous gentleman had picked up your tab. You didn’t need to be Sherlock Holmes to figure out who was the mysterious man.

The next morning, you broke up with your boyfriend.

。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜

Oh, you were definitely tipsy. Perhaps even drunk? But that’s the Miami GP afterparties for you!

Hey baby, it’s me!!!!!!!

Sergio jumped when he saw your name pop on his notifications. It was like a siren call he had hoped for in vain since you left him. He replied immediately.

Hello, are you okay mi amor?

Are you alone?

Yes, why?

Can I call you?

“Hello?” Sergio picked up the phone, confused but happy that you were calling him at midnight.

“Hiiiiiiiiiiii baby, it’s me!” He chuckled when he realized that you were drunk. He would have preferred that you had called him sober, but when it came to you, he would take anything.

“Hello, mi pastelito. Are you alright?” He hoped you were not passed out somewhere. He heard people shouting your name in the background, so you were probably with friends, thankfully.

“Oh baby, I’m doing soooooooo good actually. These guys keep buying me shots. It’s great!” He definitely didn’t like to hear that.

“I think you should slow down. Tell these guys to back off.” You were pleased to hear his possessive tone.

“Are you jealous? Because if you are, that’s hot. All of this is your fault, anyway.”

“Really? How come? And when it comes to you, I am always jealous.” He heard you sigh.

“Well, because I saw you the other day, I had to break off with my boyfriend. It wasn’t fair to him. Now, I’m drunk in the club, and I keep telling people it’s because I just broke up with my boyfriend but really, I’m trying to get over you.” He softened at your words.

“I don’t want you to get over me, mi amor. In fact, I’m glad that you’re not with that other guy anymore. Why don’t you come over and we can talk about it?” You were drunk, but not drunk enough to forget why you shouldn’t see him.

“Checo, I really, really, really think that this is a bad idea. We were doing so good, we hadn’t seen each other in months.” You whined. “But I just miss you so much, I can’t help it.” He smiled at your words. This was the longest conversation you two had since you broke up.

“Don’t fight it, mi amor. Text me the address, and I’ll come pick you up.” Oh, he was good. It almost worked.

“I see what you’re doing,” you could hear him laugh. “Here’s what going to happen, okay? I’ll convince some guy in the club to buy me some shots, and if it works and I get drunk enough, I’ll call a cab to go see you. Text me the address of your hotel, please, just in case.” He wasn’t so sure about your plan.

“I don’t like this. Why don’t I just come pick you up?” He especially didn’t like the part that involved you flirting your way to free shots.

“Come on, baby, learn to live a little! It’ll be a surprise. I’m going to hang up right now, okay?” He tried to stop you, but it was too late. He texted you his location and kept checking his phone to make sure he hadn’t missed your call or a message from you.

Finally, at one in the morning, his phone rang.

“Hey baby, it’s me again!” He liked that you had started calling him baby again. “I’m on my way to your hotel, will you please let me in?” He was already sprinting down to the hotel lobby.

“Of course, mi amor, I’ll be there.”

“Also, the last guy that bought me a drink was pissed that I was not coming home with him, until I said that I knew Sergio Perez really well. He said he would forgive me if you sent him an autograph. Do you think you could do that?” He laughed.

“Yeah baby, I can do that. Are you nearby? I’m in the lobby.”

“I’ll be there in a few minutes.” You shrieked when you got to the hotel. “Okay, I’m here. Bye bye now!” You hung up the phone and practically jumped out of the car. Maybe you shouldn’t have drunk that last sex on the beach.

“Mi pastelito, you look gorgeous.” He smiled in appreciation. It’s true, you did look gorgeous, in your short dress that barely covered anything. You gave him a little spin.

“Thank you, baby, it got me so many free drinks!” He chuckled at that, even if he didn’t like the thought of other guys circling you like sharks. “Although maybe I should’ve toned it down, because if I wasn’t so drunk, I wouldn’t be here.” You sighed. He pulled you in a hug, and it was like coming home. It was like nothing had changed. The mistress was back.

“I’m glad you’re here, mi amor.” He kissed the top of your head. “Let’s go inside.”

You didn’t make it to the elevator before you were all over him. As soon as the doors closed, you were kissing him like a starved woman, which is what you were. You had cut him off your diet, but the craving was too strong. He made you sit on the handrail to get a better angle. This could have been a shot straight out of a porn movie, the way you were both desperate to touch the other, the sounds you made. Plus, an elevator scene is always a hit.

“I just missed you so much, baby. I can’t help loving you!” You said between kisses.

“That’s good, because I love you too.” The elevator doors opened. Thank God there wasn’t anyone else. He led to you to his hotel room, never breaking the kiss. Your lover was talented.

Once you were inside the room, he pushed you against the wall to stun you with kisses all over the skin your dress showed. So, basically everywhere on your body. You were already moaning.

“Baby, we have to think. We shouldn’t be doing this. We are supposed to stay away from each other, remember? I’m drunk, so I have an excuse, but you don’t!” He took his sweet time to answer you, as he was too busy marking you.

“It’s funny, I can’t remember anything, except that I love you. Oh well.” You protested weakly. His touch on your body after months apart felt too good for you to remember your morals. You forced him to remove his shirt. You still remembered the number one rule of being a mistress: never leave a mark. You were very careful not to scratch him, even if that’s all you wanted to do. You both made your way to the bed tangled with each other.

“I want to be on top of you, baby, so I can remember this moment. This is our last time, for real this time.” He sat against the headboard and let you straddle him.

“Mi pastelito, I don’t think there’ll ever be a last time when it comes to you and me.” You shut him up by removing your dress. He looked you up and down lovingly. “I missed this, mi amor. You’re way too beautiful for your own good.” He made you blush.

“Thank you, baby.” You started to move on top of him. He gripped your waist to help you move while kissing you. Oh, your affair was so back, whether you wanted it or not.

When he started to unzip his pants, you suddenly remembered one tiny detail.

“After I dumped my boyfriend, I stopped taking the pill. I know it sucks, but do you have a condom?” Sergio shook his head.

“No, mi amor, I was not expecting you to come here, I don’t have anything.”

A big neon sign with the word DANGER flashed in your head, but stupid drunk you decided to ignore it. Having him again was just too good.

“I’m clean, so that’s okay. But we’ll have to be really careful!” He nodded.

“I’m clean too. I’ll pull out, it’s going to be okay.” He started to make you move on top of him again. You continued kissing him. The sign still flashed in your head.

After that, things got hot very quickly. When he got inside of you, you couldn’t help but scream his name everytime he moved. You started to breathe rapidly. Still, you were watching him to make sure he really did pull out. You were already in a big enough mess, adding to it was unnecessary.

“Baby, I swear, I’m going to come very soon.” He was too busy pleasing you to comment, but he did make grunting noises. Why did you two every stopped seeing each other again?

Only a short while later, when you were arching your back, you had your orgasm. It was heavenly. You fell lifelessly against his shoulder, and your guard slipped. You heard him finish inside of you at that exact moment. You gasped, and immediately tried to get off him.

“Oh no, this is bad, like really bad.” He realized his mistake.

“I really tried, I swear!” You weren’t listening to him. You were too busy freaking out.

“I have to... I have to go!” You were scrambling to get dressed. He was freaking out too, more by the fact that you were preparing to leave him once again.

“Mi amor, calm down! It’s going to be fine! At least stay the night, we'll deal with it in the morning!” He was desperately trying to get you to stay.

You were putting on your shoes. “I’m really sorry, but I have to go.” You hadn’t noticed, but you were crying. “This was a mistake. It won’t happen ever again!” You got out of the hotel room. He tried to chase you, but you were running down the hallway, and you were surprisingly fast, even with how much you had drunk.

When you looked at yourself in the mirror in the elevator, you had mascara tears running down your cheeks. You were nothing but an illicit affair. You saw nothing but the other woman in your reflection. This was your Black Swan moment.

[blindmagdalena]

Resignation

Summary: 18+ 1.5k homelander x reader, established relationship, dirty talk, thigh riding, grinding.

After you have a particularly rough day at work, Homelander offers you some sound career advice, and a little stress relief.

spiritual successor to Customer Service, but stands alone. this is for everyone who's sick of this capitalist hellscape, and the crummy jobs we're forced to work to survive. not proofread, we die like men. 🖤

Another day, another dollar, another near meltdown.

You spend most of your commute home trying to pull yourself together. After the day you’ve had at work, the last thing you need to do is burst into tears before you even made it home. It’s taking everything in you to keep it at bay.

There’s just something about you that apparently screams Hey! Abuse me! in the workplace.

At least you’ve got something to look forward to when you get home.

Or rather, someone.

“I’m home,” you announce tiredly, stepping inside. You kick your shoes off, and despite your mood, you smile at the pair of tall red boots that sit next to them. It took some convincing to get him to take them off consistently, but ever since he’s started spending more and more time hiding out at your place, you’ve insisted on some ground rules

“Living room,” Homelander calls back.

Walking in, you find him crouched in the living room, staring at your cat with a level of intensity you’re not sure what to make of. “Uh, something going on here?”

“Yep,” he answers evenly. “Asserting dominance.”

You watch your cat blink slowly before lazily rising, stretching into a wide yawn, and hopping down to greet you. Homelander stands, scoffing triumphantly. “I won.”

“Uh-huh,” you give back distractedly, bending down to scritch your cat's ears.

“Hey, what’s up?” He asks, frowning as he approaches. “Your eyes are all red.”

“Hard day,” you tell him, readily accepting his encroaching embrace. You sink easily into his arms, noting that his gloves are off today. That’s new. You slip your arms around his neck, your body tired and heavy as you trust him with the full weight of it. He holds you up effortlessly.

He exhales a huff of hot air right by your ear that gives you goosebumps. “Quit,” he says, his voice set low.

“That’s what you always say.” “Because I mean it,” he shoots back fiercely, pulling away to meet your gaze. “Quit. Fuck those assholes already. You don’t need them. You have me,” he says, reiterating a conversation the two of you have had at least a dozen times now.

Money is nothing to him. He could buy you out for three times your salary for the rest of your life with his pocket change.

“I can’t just not work,” you say, pulling your hands down from his neck to lay flush on his chest. “I need my job.”

“The only thing you need is me,” he stresses again, kissing you. He always feels like he’s restraining himself when he touches you, holding himself back from moving too hard, too fast, from devouring. It’s thrilling to lose yourself in. “Why do you insist on tormenting yourself?

Stomach fluttering, you can’t help but laugh at the slight petulance that slips into his voice. “Because if I give up and let you take care of me, you might get bored, and then I’ll have nothing,” you say, and though you mean to make a joke of it, to fill your voice with playful whimsy, the confession lands harder than you expected it to. You’re tired, you’re stretched thin, and as your own words sink in, you realize just how bad it’s gotten.

Homelander withdraws, leveling you with a look that confirms it: that wasn’t a joke, and neither of you are amused.

You blink several times, suddenly speechless. “I…” You realize your eyes are burning again, and with every blink, your vision gets more bleary. “I just meant…”

“Do you really believe that?” He asks, his brows pinched.

“No,” you answer reflexively, voice too sharp even to your ears. “No, not that… I don’t know, I was trying to make a joke, but maybe… I don’t know. I get scared sometimes,” you say carefully, trying desperately not to spill the tears gathering in your eyes. “That someday I’m not going to be enough because y–”

His lips meet yours before you can continue, muffling the rest of your sentence. His hands are impossibly warm as they sweep up your back, eventually cupping either side of your neck. He kisses you like he’s starving, like he needs the taste of you to breathe, like he would die without you. He kisses you until your brain feels foggy and there’s a dull throb between your legs.

“You’re ridiculous,” he all but growls against your lips, thumbs stroking your cheeks. “I’m not going to get bored. Good fucking luck getting out of this one,” he says, slipping a hand to the back of your neck and squeezing for emphasis. You shiver, your tears lost in the wake of the slow rolling heat moving through your body. “Besides, you know damn well you���re the one who’ll be taking care of me.”

You can feel his smirk against your lips, and you laugh unexpectedly, the sound of it bordering on the sob you had very nearly fallen to. “You need a babysitter now?”

“Why, are we roleplaying? That’s pretty naughty,” he purrs.

“Stop it,” you laugh, pushing his face away, but he doesn’t relent. 

“What? Sexy babysitter could be fun,” he says, kissing a trail up your neck.

“Pervert,” you accuse, turning your face to kiss him. He accepts greedily, tongue slipping between your lips. You sigh a soft moan into his mouth, which only encourages his hands to wander even more, eventually settling on your ass. Without warning, he grabs tight and hauls you up, hitching your legs around his waist, swallowing up the startled gasp you give.

He settles down onto the couch, and maneuvers you until you’re straddling his thigh. You can feel the magnitude of his strength thrumming between your legs, pressed up tight against that same throbbing heat he ignited in you with those fervent kisses.

Cupping your face, he pulls you down for more of the same.

“Go ahead,” he says against your lips, his own curved into a gloating smile. “Grind. I can smell how bad you want it.” His voice is low, as coarse and sweet as raw sugar. His words hit you like a punch to the gut, worsening the pulse of your need.

Immediately, you start to rock your hips, grinding down against him. He rewards you with a hand on your thigh, squeezing as it slides slowly higher, his thumb skirting along your inner thigh. “No more stress,” he murmurs, the words warm on your lips. “No more tears. Just you… with me… mine.”

The way he rumbles that word against your ear sends a shiver trilling up and down your spine, the heat at the center of you spiraling up, up, up, blossoming throughout your entire body. He flexes his thigh and gives you one sharp little bounce on it, wringing a moan out of you. You roll your hips faster, tightly clenching your thighs on either side of his. You push both hands up into his hair and hold on tight, panting into the crook of his neck.

Homelander slips both hands back to your ass, gives a generous squeeze while he helps your body move, rolling it in time with the way he flexes and occasionally bucks his thigh against you. “Say it. Say you’ll quit, and you’ll be all mine,” he demands softly, grip flexing on you. There’s a neediness at the edges of his voice. “Give me that. Give me you.”

You screw your eyes shut, keening breathlessly. The grind of fabric against sensitive skin is almost too much, too dry, but it’s fucking good, too. You’re getting wetter and wetter, losing yourself to the relentless pace he sets for you, and the hungry way he kisses at your throat. 

“C’mon. Give it up. Give me everything. M’never letting you go,” he pants, at which point you realize he’s also grinding against your leg. The arousal–the sheer animalistic need–in his voice makes your stomach flip, and with one last shuddering noise, you’re coming against his leg, moaning loud in his ear as the wave of pleasure slowly wrings out every last bit of tension that you had been holding onto.

You collapse against him, your arms hanging limply around his neck. He nuzzles at your jaw, kissing a trail to your lips. You reciprocate lazily, your eyes closed as you luxuriate in the aftershocks of the unexpected release.

“Quit,” he whispers persistently, lips pressed to the corner of your mouth. “We’ll take care of each other.”

“This is playing dirty,” you slur, feeling stupefied in your post-orgasm haze.

“Oh, I’m just getting started,” he says, taking your hand from around his neck, and slipping it between his legs. You bite your tongue. Christ, he runs fucking hot. Even through the fabric of his suit, you can feel the throb of his cock. “You’re gonna be writing your resignation letter in my cum by the end of the night.”

You make a sound somewhere between a laugh and an unsteady moan, clenching against his thigh. “Okay,” you say, lifting your head to kiss him. “Prove it.”

Much to Homelander’s delight, you submit your notice of resignation the very next day.

[anto-pops]

The Hypothesis - Sebastian Sallow x Female!Reader

Summary: The hand on your throat was gentle but firm, and your stomach flipped at the vulnerability of it all. You weren’t even sure you had it in you to do what he was asking but Merlin, did he make it sound enticing. Somewhere in your brain the sixteen year old version of yourself was combusting. How many times since starting school had you fantasized about Sebastian? About the two of you tangled in sheets and lost in the euphoria of one another? You could scarcely believe some of the fantasies your hormonal teenage mind had conjured up, but you had never considered anything as bold as this.

Alternatively summarized as pure, shameless Sebastian smut

Word Count: 5.5k

Warnings: 18+, aged up characters, explicit content

Full fic can be found here on Ao3

It was easy for you to tell when things were getting bad again. 

At first you had chalked it up to your menstrual cycle, as embarrassing as that was. It wasn’t unusual for you to get headaches or chills, or even act outright cruel when it was that time of the month. But the more time passed, the worse things got, and you knew the night you woke from a nightmare with red bolts crackling over your arms that this was decidedly not your period. 

Isidora’s magic now lived inside you, as volatile and unpredictable as it was powerful. Absorbing it had changed you on a molecular level- you were no longer the sixteen year old girl who had arrogantly believed she could wield a magic darker than the Unforgivable Curses. You knew with each passing day you were drifting further and further from the person you used to be, falling victim to your darker impulses routinely. Less of your excursions beyond the castle walls ended peacefully. In fact, you often sought out fights. While most of the Ashwinder camps and Poaching Rings had been taken care of in the years since Ranrok, there were always stragglers. 

You took a disturbing amount of pleasure in ripping those people apart. 

All due in large part to Isidora’s magical goodie bag you’d elected to open. The accumulated power demanded to be used, and at this point it took everything in you not to lose control in the middle of your classes. Despite the sheer magnitude of your abilities, you had never felt weaker. Your magic had never been something you had to war against in your own mind, and you certainly had never perceived it as a threat to yourself. 

Now though, you weren’t sure. 

The only person you’d been able to confide in about it all was Sebastian. Sebastian, who had made good on his promise to you and Ominis to stay the good course. Sebastian, who had worked harder than anyone to coexist with the demons you knew still raged in his head. He was, quite literally, the only person you could imagine sharing your turmoil with. Picturing Ominis’ particular brand of disappointment at your revelation had made you sick to your stomach for a week before you had banished the idea entirely. 

Sebastian, though. His sharp eyes had darkened when you’d told him the truth of what you’d done below Hogwarts and how you feared losing control. The way you tamed the raging fire inside of you with fighting and blood. The piercing regret you felt at ever taking this cursed power out of the repository in the first place. He had only looked at you with curiosity, maybe even a little admiration, before gathering you in his arms. 

“I won’t tell a soul, you have my word.” 

The Slytherin boy had come to you with an idea shortly thereafter. A hypothesis if you will, he had said. With instructions to meet him in the Undercroft after ten, you’d made a point to fly out towards the Clagmar Coast in the hours before dark. Regardless of Sebastian’s so-called ‘hypothesis’, you didn’t want to risk feeling… overwhelmed, when you met with him. The power from the repository had a way of buzzing in the back of your mind, steadily getting louder if you chose to ignore it. If taking out a few scattered Poacher camps quieted it down some, you would happily do so. 

By the time you returned to Hogwarts, there were no students milling about. It made for a peaceful trek to the Undercroft, allowing you to gather your bearings and blink the fog from your mind. While you didn’t plan to put much stock into Sebastian’s unknown idea, the least you could do was hear him out. If whatever he wanted to suggest was something that could make existing with this power more bearable, you were willing to try. It scared you to think about what you would become in a few months, or in a year. Would you even be the same? Or would you end up a husk of your former self, controlled by the very magic you had been hell bent on taking in the first place? 

It seemed like the most plausible outcome. 

The iron gate clanged back into place behind you as you stepped into the Undercroft. Noting the dim lights and rearranged crates towards the back, you scanned the room and found no sign of the boy who had summoned you. 

“Sebastian?” 

Footsteps sounded to your left, and you looked in time to see Sebastian push off the wall and make his way towards you. Immediately you noticed he was missing his cloak. Then you saw his white button up and dark trousers, and you realized you had never seen him so dressed down. His stride was full of purpose, a predatory glint in his eyes as he came to stand less than a foot away from you. 

Instinct screamed at you to move back. In your experience, anyone getting that close to you usually meant they were going to try and kill you. But this was Sebastian, you reasoned, and mentally chided yourself for even letting the thought cross your mind. So instead you tilted your chin up to meet his penetrating gaze. 

“Care to enlighten me as to why we’re down here after hours?” 

His eyes flicked between yours for a few seconds before they began roaming, wandering down your stiff form. You still wore your travel gear, a black cotton ensemble with a small leather chest plate for protection. You’d crafted a sheath for the modest dagger you kept strapped to your thigh in case of emergencies, and the scarf you’d wrapped around your neck for the evening hung precariously off your shoulder.

Sebastian brought one of his hands up to your cheek, his fingers hovering slightly over the scar left from your battle in the repository years ago. “I told you. I want to test my hypothesis.” 

“Right,” you rolled your eyes and willed the churning in your gut to subside. “And we would get so much farther with that if I knew what you were talking about wouldn’t we?” 

A ghost of a smirk danced across his features, giving you whiplash. What was he thinking? And what the hell was he planning? 

He finally brushed the back of his finger down your cheek, the touch barely there. The featherlight feeling caused goosebumps to break out all over your skin. He trailed it lower, under your chin and skimmed the line of your jaw before you felt his digits splay across the slender column of your neck. There was no stopping the startled gasp that left your lips at the brazen action, and Sebastian seemed to take a deep rooted pleasure in it. 

“I want to believe that you’re out of control because you’ve been in control for too long,” he started to say and tugged you closer. “All that power simmering beneath the surface, it's all you can focus on, isn’t it?” 

There was no chance in hell you trusted yourself to speak, so you nodded. 

Now he was smirking, “I want to see what happens when you give up control. When you stop holding the magic back and just let it flow through you instead. Don’t be afraid of what’ll happen if you let yourself feel it— rather, open yourself to the experience. But I think we both know you’re far too uptight for that, and you’ll fight tooth and nail against your better urges, so I want you to let me take control. Let me steer the boat for a while. You just sit pretty and relax, sound good?”

The hand on your throat was gentle but firm, and your stomach flipped at the vulnerability of it all. You weren’t even sure you had it in you to do what he was asking but Merlin, did he make it sound enticing. Somewhere in your brain the sixteen year old version of yourself was combusting. How many times since starting school had you fantasized about Sebastian? About the two of you tangled in sheets and lost in the euphoria of one another? You could scarcely believe some of the fantasies your hormonal teenage mind had conjured up, but you had never considered anything as bold as this. 

Dumbly realizing you’d been gaping up at him like a fish, you gave his wrist a testing squeeze before nodding. “Alright… how?”

He smiled down at you in earnest, that lust filled look in his eyes deepening by the second. “Now where would be the fun in telling you?”

---

Butterflies was no longer an appropriate term to describe what you were feeling. No, at this point it was more akin to a hurricane tearing you apart from the inside, your anxiety heightened at having been rendered so helpless. Sebastian had wasted little time in whisking you over to the chaise lounge tucked behind the rearranged crates after you’d agreed to essentially let him fuck you. Because that’s what this was, right? He had yet to speak the words but his eyes communicated his intentions well enough. He had gotten to work quickly, tugging his tie from his pocket and coming to stand behind you. You had felt the silky material drift over your eyes before Sebastian knotted it snugly behind your head. 

Blindfolded. 

It hadn’t even been a full minute with it on and you were already shaking, the unknown aspect of everything you were about to do riddling you with undue stress. Sebastian zero’d in on your discomfort right away, sliding his arms around you from behind and pulling you against him. 

“Just relax, I promise you’re safe with me. We can stop at any point and if you don’t like something I do, tell me.” 

His thumbs traced burning circles against the thin cotton of your shirt. With him holding you this way, it was impossible to overlook the hard expanse of his torso pressed against your back. You were overcome with the unique scent of him; cedar and pine, and that telltale musk you could only identify as Sebastian. Unable to see, it felt all the more intimate having to rely on your other senses. 

You forced a shaky breath into your lungs and held it for a second before exhaling. “Okay.”

One of his hands abandoned your waist to trail under your shirt, relishing in the soft skin he felt waiting there. Deft fingers skimmed over your ribs, then your breasts, and you inhaled sharply as he took one of your nipples between his fingers and pinched. “So responsive. Have you ever let anyone touch you like this?” 

As though to punctuate the question, Sebastian moved down your breasts to feel along the plane of your belly to your nether region. His hand slipped beneath the waistband of your trousers, his fingers ghosting over where he knew you wanted them most, and he chuckled at the disappointed sigh you let slip. He nestled his chin into the crook of your neck so his breath tickled your ear as he asked, “Has anyone ever touched you here?” 

Shamelessly your hips twitched closer to Sebastian’s hand, desperate for some kind of stimulation. You were pathetic. Crumbling in his hands— as if you had even been put together in the first place. He drew his hand away from your aching core, clicking his tongue at you, and slowly guided you towards the chaise lounge. He continued to feel over your abdomen with his arms securely wrapped around you before stopping short of the cushions. “Good things come to those who wait,” he chided. “Or are you so desperate to be filled that you’re content to ride my fingers?” 

“Fuck, Sebastian.” You didn’t recognize your own voice. It sounded reedy- airy. Like you were already out of breath and he’d simply been whispering sweet nothings in your ear. 

You felt as he untangled his arms from your waist, then he spun you around and gave you a light shove. The backs of your calves connected with the lounge behind you, and with a barely contained yelp you collapsed onto the velvet surface. 

Sebastian was on you in an instant, his lips claiming yours like he had been starved of your very essence as he hoisted you further up the cushions. His hands were demanding, gripping your hips with such fervor as he kissed you that you were certain he’d leave bruises. You felt him slot his knee between your thighs for better leverage over you, but when he leaned forward to trail wet, hot kisses down your jaw, his leg pressed against that bundle of nerves at your core. 

There was no helping it, you moaned into Sebastian’s mouth at the sensation. Your sounds seemed to stoke the fire, given how he tightened his grip and practically rolled his hips against yours. He was clearly as eager as you were.

Sebastian broke the kiss first to sit back on his heels as he perched on your lap, your body effectively caged beneath his strong legs. His hands roamed over you, taking loose articles of clothing with him as he went, starting with your scarf. “You’re so fucking perfect like this. So willing and pliant.” 

He let the flimsy fabric flutter to the floor before his fingers were tugging at the strings that attached your leather chest plate to your shoulders. That was pried away and discarded along with the rest of the strappy accessories that littered your form. A gasp ripped from your throat as Sebastian’s hands found your breasts beneath your shirt again, kneading and squeezing the skin in a way that had a familiar feeling building within you. 

“I’ve always wanted to know what it would be like to lay with you. How you would feel, what you would look like falling apart on my cock. I want to see that facade slip- I want to watch you flustered and panting and full of my cum, begging for more.”

Without a shadow of a doubt, your brain was short circuiting. To hear such raunchy and filthy promises dripping from Sebastian’s mouth was enough to have you clenching your thighs around his knee, desperate for any kind of friction to accompany the wetness pooling there. He took note of your wriggling instantly and pulled his leg back, leaving you aching and mewling like a mongrel in heat. 

“Ah ah ah, that’s not very patient behavior now is it?” You could hear the grin in his voice as he slid away from you. The chill of the Undercroft covered you instantly, goosebumps breaking out over the exposed flesh of your torso. 

“P-please,” you heard yourself moan. You had no idea what you were even asking for, but you felt Sebastian’s warm hands begin to trail up the tops of your legs, towards the waistband of your pants, before swiftly yanking them down to your ankles. You could feel your face flushing red, the sheer intimacy of being exposed to him in nothing but your undergarments enough to make your heart pound against your chest and drown out the incessant buzz of magic in the back of your mind. 

His ministrations were thoughtful, seeing as he didn’t skip over an inch of skin. Soft, plush lips pressed against your inner thighs, eliciting a shiver from you, before he moved up higher to your naval. He placed another kiss there as his hands roamed up to remove your thin top. It took no time at all, and before you knew it you were laid bare before your most trusted companion. 

“You’re beautiful,” he said to you, causing you to flush deeper. “I’m serious. You’re perfect. All of you is perfect–”

You felt his thumb roughly press against your clit through your underwear then, and you gasped as you arched your back into his touch. “Right here especially. This perfect pussy, so wet for me and we’ve barely even started.” 

The slow, easy circles he traced against your most private area wasn’t enough. He was holding back on purpose, deriving some sort of twisted pleasure in denying you yours. Fighting the urge to buck your hips into his hand, your chest heaved with the massive breath you took in. 

“Questions? Comments? Concerns?” 

“I’m going to kill you if you don’t get on with it, Sallow.” 

You felt his body rock above yours as he barked out a laugh, removing his hand entirely from your clit, much to your dismay. “Is that so? Maybe I should quit while I’m ahead.” 

“No! Merlin, please— don’t stop, I just… I want—“ you blushed from embarrassment as you tripped over your words. The effect this man had on you… 

Sebastian chuckled and started to move so that he no longer caged your body to the lounge, and you instantly missed his weight and warmth. It didn’t last long, however. Before long he had slithered down to kneel in front of you, and you felt as he grabbed your waist and pivoted you so your legs dangled over the edge of your seat. The spark of arousal you felt at being so easily manhandled didn’t escape you. 

“I know,” he finished for you. “Believe me, I know exactly what you want. But you’re letting me steer remember? It wouldn’t be very nice to go back on your word now, would it?” 

You almost told him to hell with it, screw his hypothesis. You foresaw yourself flipping the two of you over so you could take exactly what you wanted from him whether he liked it or not. But then you felt his mouth dance over the thin cloth separating your wet heat from his soft lips, and the fight evaporated from you as the tip of his finger slipped under the fabric and tugged it away gently. 

This damned tie would be the death of you— you’d never wanted to look at someone this badly. The urge to snatch it off was intense. 

Sebastian trailed his fingers around your sex, the teasing touches working you into a frenzy as he took his time toying with you. His other arm came up to press down on your hips, preventing any unwanted jerking or bucking on your part. You were completely at Sebastian’s mercy, your mouth hanging open in a silent plea. 

When his lips closed around your swollen clit, you kicked your head back with a cacophony of sounds. Your cries seemed to fuel Sebastian as he kissed and licked at your center with reckless abandon. The feeling of your muscles tensing beneath him— because of him— drove him wild with lust. The arm bracing your hips pressed down harder as he probed your entrance with his tongue, and there was no stopping the drawn out moan you released at the feeling. 

As you fell apart before him, Sebastian drank in the sight. Your cheeks were flushed with desire, chest heaving with the sharp gasps and pants that fell from your lips. He could see the hair along your arms standing on end, and your kiss-swollen lips mouthed a slew of words that never came out. 

He knew then he was addicted to you. There would be no stopping what was to come after this. 

Quickly, and rather mercifully you might add, Sebastian replaced his tongue with one of his slender fingers, curling it upwards. It reached far deeper than before, the feeling making your toes curl. Letting your head tip back so hit the back of the lounge with a thunk, you heard and felt Sebastian chuckle against you. Taking your relaxed posture as a good sign, he pumped his finger a few times before tentatively adding a second. The stretch was uncomfortable at first, but with his skilled mouth making quick work of you, the discomfort vanished. 

“F-Fuck Sebastian, I can’t much longer, I’m— fuck—“ he silenced you with his tongue, never lessening his attention against your center as he felt you progressively get tighter around his fingers. The grip he had on you would surely leave bruises, but the thought of Sebastian’s marks lingering on your naked body pushed you clean over the edge. 

With a cry of ecstasy you came around Sebastian’s fingers, the stars dancing in your eyes blinding against the steady darkness of his tie. He held you through your orgasm, relishing in each tiny twitch that slipped through your limb body. His mouth stayed on you, overstimulating you until you found the strength to palm at his shoulder. 

He broke away with a wicked strand of saliva dangling between the two of you. The sight sent another bolt of arousal through him, his neglected cock straining against his trousers. 

A few beats passed, the only sound in the Undercroft that of your ragged breathing. Sebastian finally released your waist and scaled the lounge, caging you between the cushions and himself. Cupping your jaw he brought your lips to his, and the taste of yourself on his mouth had you sighing into the kiss. You felt like putty as Sebastian’s warm hands roused you from your post coital state. His tongue delved deep into your mouth, exploring and tasting every inch he could as he lightly pet your hair back. 

Breaking apart took an eternity, but at some point Sebastian opted to get on with things and stepped away from the lounge. You wanted to protest, but then you heard the metal buckle of his belt clink in a way that told you more was yet to come. The muffled sound of clothing being shed had heat pooling in your gut once again. Your knees pressed together instinctually. 

Watching you fall apart was as magnificent as Sebastian had always imagined it would be. Better, even. Seeing your body overcome with pleasure had imbued him with a sense of self-fulfillment that he only wanted to expand upon. Recalling your trembling legs on either side of him, your nails digging into the cushions of the lounge, and your unruly hair tumbling all around you; it only made Sebastian want you that much more. 

“So fucking perfect,” he murmured, and you whimpered.

In a split second Sebastian was ravaging you once again. You gasped as he curled those strong arms under your hips and yanked you down so you were flush with his achingly hard cock. Fuck, did you want to see him. The sheer size of him felt intimidating, his thick shaft pulsing with obvious desire against you, and you heard him groan at the feeling. 

You were positive his hands left scorch marks along your thighs as he gripped them, willing himself to maintain his composure and not slam into you all at once. An inherent, primitive part of him demanded that he fill you, mark you, claim you, all for himself.

On cue you wriggled in Sebastian’s grip, and your slick rubbing against the sensitive head of his cock was all the go ahead he needed. 

Despite his baser urges, Sebastian moved slowly as he aligned himself. He teased along your entrance a few times, committing your stuttered breathing to memory, before gingerly pressing the head into your tight heat. 

“F-Fuck darling, you feel incredible,” he breathed the quiet praises along the smooth skin of your leg, leaving a chaste kiss there before inching his cock in deeper. “Feels amazing.”

The intrusion felt so right in a million different ways. You could barely keep one thought in your mind before twelve more came and replaced it. At this angle you could feel every part of Sebastian sheathed inside of you. His fingers were nothing compared to his cock; it filled you in all the right places, rubbing tantalizingly along your sweet spot as he pulled out nearly all the way, and plunged back in. 

“Fuck! S-Sebastian, you’re so big—“ his hips snapping against yours dragged a cry from your throat, and your hands fisted uselessly against the cushions beneath you. 

Sebastian took note as he set a steady rhythm, grinding his balls against your ass with each rough pass of his cock. He released his hold on your leg, letting it fall against the seat as he gathered your wrists in one hand before pinning them against the back of the lounge. 

You were spread wide for him like this, with your hands restrained above your head and both legs knocked to the side. Sebastian’s free hand came to fist in your hair, tugging your head to the side to lick a wet stripe up the flushed column of your neck. He bit and sucked at the skin there, the sensation of teeth and his tongue laving over the bites too much for your fried brain. 

When he released your hair, you momentarily missed the sting of his grip before you felt the pad of his thumb press down on your clit. 

You didn’t even know what the hell you were saying. Words were definitely falling from your lips but aside from Sebastian’s name and a flurry of curses and moans, the rest got lost in translation. It was too much— without your eyes to take in the scene, your other senses were working in overdrive. Your sweat slick skin prickled, and you felt a shock pass between your and Sebastian’s conjoined hands above you. His grunts and shouts of your name pushed you closer to that familiar coiling in your gut. 

“Please please please— Sebastian I need to see you, please let me look at you. I can’t much longer— fuck—“

You heard an animalistic growl reverberate from deep in Sebastian’s chest before you felt him let go of your wrists and tug his tie over your head. The sight that greeted you was nothing short of sinful, as far as you were concerned. 

Gone was the lanky, boyish-cute Slytherin who you’d first met in your fifth-year. Sebastian was wholly a man now. His broad shoulders were well defined from years of dueling, and the muscles along his back were rippling with each concentrated thrust of his hips. The taut stomach you could now see made your mouth water, your fingers itching to trail down that patch of hair that led to where you were connected. His dark stare was trained solely on you, watching how you reacted as he drank in the hazy, fucked out look in your eyes. You reached for him then, and Sebastian let his fingers intertwine with your own before he shifted so you were flat across the lounge with his delicious weight pressed against your core. 

He began to move faster then, the force of his cock ramming into you causing you to slide up the lounge until your head bumped the arm rest and he was fucking noisy cries of his name right out of you. Tears pooled at the corners of your eyes, your second orgasm being dragged out of you, and you frantically began rutting back with the slightest give you were allowed. 

“More darling?” Sebastian sputtered out a broken moan in your ear, “You want more?” 

“Yes! Yes yes, please Sebastian please, give me everything— fuck—“

With a rough growl, Sebastian was pulling out of you entirely, leaving you whimpering and mewling your displeasure before his hands were back on your waist. You were boneless and completely at his mercy as he dragged you back down the lounge, looping one of his strong arms under your back so you were arched towards him as he rammed his cock back into you, not even pausing to draw breath before he was fucking you straight through the surface, brutal in how rough he was pounding into you but fuck— if it isn’t exactly what you needed. 

Your spine rounded further off the lounge as you flung your head back and wailed for Sebastian, your nails coming up to claw at his back and over his shoulders then down his arms, leaving angry red stripes in their wake. Your voice was so much needier, so much raspier than Sebastian ever remembered hearing it. As he thrusted into you with reckless abandon, his free hand trailing up your chest and gripping your throat again, squeezing just hard enough to pull you on to his cock with more force, and when your eyes flew open with a choked gasp, he saw the red sparks crackling behind the irises. 

When you finally came, you screamed, long and loud, and Sebastian knew better than to stop now, so he picked up his pace, fucking you through your orgasm while he chased his own. It didn’t take him much longer, the tight heat of your pulsing cunt more than enough to send him spiraling over the edge with you. 

Sebastian came with a grunt, the tempo of his hips faltering before he ground his cock deep within you and you felt him empty inside. The final sensation brought you higher than you ever thought possible, and through your closed eyelids you saw flashes of red all around you. 

Sebastian opened his bleary eyes and was greeted by one hell of a sight— you were glowing. Literally. Red sparks of lightning seemed to dance over your entire body, fizzling out at the top of your head and the tips of your fingers and toes. You were so caught up in the euphoria of your come down that you barely noticed Sebastian had stopped moving until you felt his hand on your cheek. 

You cracked an eye open at him, the blissfully fucked out look on your face overshadowed entirely by the unique coloring to your eyes. They were glowing red, too. 

“Holy fuck,” Sebastian whispered, his voice gravelly. His eyes were unblinking as they roamed your naked body, taking in the sight of Isidora’s power slipping out around you both, charging the air and tickling his skin in the areas you were still connected. 

You realized it then too, raising your hand to your face in time to watch the bolts of magic recede back beneath your skin. The residual glow behind your eyes faded, leaving a calm silence in its wake. Your head felt clear, the constant buzzing you’d grown accustomed to nowhere to be found. When Sebastian took your hand in his you found yourself searching his expression for any signs of fear or repulsion at your unintentional revelation. 

Instead you simply saw pure adoration. 

“That was incredible,” he practically purred as he pulled out, and you instantly missed the feeling of being filled by him. “I’ve never seen anything like that before.” 

Despite your better judgment, you couldn’t help but feel self-conscious that he had seen anything at all. You pushed yourself up, drawing your knees to your chest to wrap your arms around yourself protectively. 

“It’s not incredible,” you murmured. “It’s unfortunate. It’s a terrible reminder that I should have left well enough alone. I’m a freak.” 

“Hey,” his hands were so gentle, so at odds with the rough nature they had exhibited not even five minutes earlier. “Don’t say that, please. You’re not a freak. You did exactly what you thought was right– if you hadn’t we would all probably be dead right now. But if it’s any consolation, I meant the sex was incredible. Not that you glowing wasn’t incredible too– I mean, you’ve always been beautiful. The magic just gave you a little extra flare.” 

You couldn’t help but chuckle softly at his reassurances. Of course Sebastian of all people would find something positive to say about the unknown, ancient magic that thrummed in your veins. 

He let his hands drift from your shoulders to cup your cheeks, pulling your half hidden face out of your knees to kiss you deeply. The action said everything words couldn’t, and you found yourself leaning further into his touch, chasing the warmth that you so desperately craved. 

After a few languid moments Sebastian asked, “How do you feel?” 

You knew what he meant. “Better. A lot better, actually. Usually it feels like there’s something… sentient at the back of my mind. It’s always there, but not now. It’s quiet.” 

That trademark grin of his appeared in a flash, and you knew then that you had fortuitously inflated his ego. “So you’d say my hypothesis was valid? Does that mean this can be considered a treatment method in the future?” 

A bark of laughter escaped you as you reached up to swat his shoulder. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Sallow. Some things have to be earned.”

Sebastian leaned forward to kiss you again, the feeling of his lips on yours chasing away any lingering doubts or concerns. Maybe your magic would worsen. Maybe it really would change you entirely if you gave it enough time. But until that day came, so long as you had Sebastian with you, the thought didn’t seem quite as scary. Perhaps with him by your side, you could find an alternative and right the wrongs of the past. 

Only time would be able to tell. 

[raeofsunrise]

hey!! can i request finnick enamored with a reader who plays hard to get? and she’s desirable like finnick and they met in the capitol after snow tried to push the image of them being king and queen with equal levels of desirability? thanks!

showing my cards ☆ finnick odair x f. reader

summary: never would you let someone like finnick odair into your life, but finnick odair was an exception.

warnings: mentions of sex trafficking, finnick’s trafficking, no use of y/n, poorly written dialogue, capitol issues, first meeting cliche, reader’s hard to get, mentions of alcohol, i dont know if i love this or hate it

1k words

~・☆・~

you’d never liked it easy. whether it was intentional or not, you always found a way to make things harder then they had to be. maybe it was your upbringing, maybe it was just the way you were, but you never found the right person.

even as queen of panem.

it wasn’t anyone’s fault, truly. growing up was about survival. the games and everything after that was about survival. but god, how you wished that you could love someone.

it wasn’t like your life was incomplete without love, but you’d never found that someone to love. it was never…right. always some downside to the person.

it didn’t help that you changed your mind right as someone’s hand found their way into yours, or someone’s lips found their way to your lips. you wanted to live in it, to revel in the feeling of passion someone was giving to you, but it never clicked. and you hated it. it made you feel uncertain.

you never let that uncertainty show though. that’s how you got your title: “the poker faced jewel of panem. never letting her real feelings thorough. so misleading. so mystical. so hard to get.

and you played along. better to let them think you’re a person who leads another on because of no particular reason than to let them see through your facade you’d put on for so many years.

unfortunately, wittiness and mysteriousness can also earn you another title; desirable. and no urge is too nauseating to fulfill in the capitol.

parties, where the drinks tasted like a perfume your stylist had selected for you that evening. dinners, where even outside of a camera’s view, you had to entertain. to put on a performance.

it was at one of these parties, though, where you’d been invited with no certain reason why. the only other victor at this party was the only one in the capitol who was as beloved as you.

it had been four years after your “victory” in the hunger games, so you knew everyone fairly well. you just never got around to introducing yourself to finnick odair. seemed odd enough too, seeing as you were neighbors in district four. he was rarely home, though. a situation you knew all too well.

you decided tonight could be the night. as good as any other capitol party. you waited for when he finally got out of the grasp of a very handsy customer, who looked like she’d been downing glass after glass of alcohol.

you turned around, preparing yourself to walk up to him, only to turn around and be met with the sight of eyes that could make the waters part.

and for a split second, it felt like this was how you were supposed to live. in each other’s presence.

you decided to speak first. “hello, odair.” you say.

“looking for some fresh air tonight?” he asks, walking towards the entrance of the building.

strangely, you already felt comfort in his foreign presence. feelings of an unknown name started to bubble up, and you couldn’t allow that to happen.

“why? trying to get me alone so you can dazzle me into dating you?” you reply, having absolutely no idea where the cold undertone came from.

finnick knew of your repuation, but he also knew that every victor has their role. whether it be the crazy one, or the one with nothing to lose. it was something he knew all too well. but still, hearing your sarcastic remarks and replies made his heart flutter a little more each time. so he kept pushing.

he put a hand on his chest, feigning injury. “ouch,” he says. “seems like someone’s enjoying the party.”

you let out a scoff. “yes, absolutely ecstatic about my being here.” you say, walking ahead of him and outside.

you make your way to a sort of balcony, overlooking a garden in the gorgeous front yard of someone’s mansion. you pitied the person that would have to clean up after this.

finnick walks up next to you, leaning his arms against the railing, mirroring you.

“what is the queen of panem thinking about?” he says, sarcasm and humor delicately laced into his voice.

you turn your head to look at him. you were about to speak, but the sight that was in front of you was jarring.

you knew finnick was gorgeous. it was a known fact throughout panem. but cameras did not do him justice. you never understood why he needed all the fancy lighting the capitol provided. the moonlight cascading down his face and drawing out his features was certainly enough for you, you thought.

remembering the question he had asked god knows how long ago, you brought yourself back to reality. “she thinks about why finnick odair is asking what she thinks about.” you say, turning your head away from him and looking down.

he laughs. “touché.” he says, trailing off.

you can’t help but let out a small laugh. you don’t know why, there’s just something so intimate about the whole interaction.

you decide it’s your turn to ask a question. “how’re you enjoying the party?” you ask.

“party? could’ve sworn it was a funeral with how many people there look like they could’ve witnessed the rebellion.” he says, earning a laugh from you.

finnick swears that making you laugh within the first ten minutes of your meeting is one of his biggest accomplishments. he’d been enamored with you since he’d heard your laugh that night.

you’ve never known what it’s felt like to have someone go this far without making you change your mind, so you let the conversation happen.

you’ve heard of finnick’s reputation. his alleged personality, his habits. you’d never let someone like finnick into your life. but finnick himself could slide.

maybe, just maybe, you’d show your cards for finnick odair.

hii!! really hope you like what i did with the request! i tried to put in every component but i may’ve gone a bit astray! please leave feedback it’s greatly appreciated ☆