#apex x male reader

[ficmachine]

Bloodhound, Octane, and Pathfinder, reacting to a make reader who always hides his face? Like- always wears these pretty/badass looking masks, and one day it falls off (or maybe brakes, or they catch him without his mask) and he's the most prettiest boi they've met- and he just starts crying cuz he's afraid on how they'll react?

You don't have to reply to this if you don'twanna! Also I wanna say I love your work! Your really talented ^^

Please keep up the great work!!

I gotchu! Dw! And thank you! :0c

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Bloodhound/Octane/Pathy x Masc Reader. (Mask-wearing self-conscious reader)

Style: Intro + Headcanons

Wordcount: 1.8k (1808 to be exact)

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People get curious. People ask. Not everyone, of course, but those who ask about why you cover your face usually prod to the point it gets uncomfortable. The amount of people – Your “fans” as they call themselves - who blow it out of proportion, make you paranoid about someone pushing it too far.

They're terrifying, especially when they obsess over something. You'd think you would have more than enough shit to deal with as a legend but no, this is a whole different can you don't want to crack open.

Regardless, whether it's just for your own comfort or just because you like looking cool is nobody's damned business.

You have your own reasons. That should be enough.

But bad fortune was going to catch up to you at some point or other, you suppose.

The stray bullet that scraped the side of your face was close, way too close - fear washes over you like a bucket of ice cold water.

Ducking under cover with your heart leaping to your throat you touch your cheek with a hiss – red smeared over your glove – and curse under your breath. Shit. Not good but at least you're not out in the open. Taking a deep breath you grip your gun tighter, chest heaving up and down as your eyes lock with your teammate.

“I'm fine.” You dismiss their concern quickly, pressing the inside of your sleeve to your face to stop the bleeding as you peek out from behind the wall. You can't pinpoint the shooter, neither can you sense any movement out in the open. Sucking in a breath you take cover again, back against the cold concrete wall and gun clutched to your chest. “Can't see them.”

Looking back at your partner your brows furrow. They're staring. Is the wound that bad? You pull your sleeve away to see the bleeding eased up and heave a sigh, breath visible in the cold weather.

“What-”

Your eyes catch the sight of your face-mask on the ground.

Oh.

Quicker than you can process your free hand snaps to your face. Panic engulfs your form all over again – eyes shooting up to your teammate to find them still staring – they definitely saw. Your head spins, heart hammering as your throat goes dry.

Ah.

Okay.

This is probably the worst time to panic. And cry? Are you really going to cry over this? Right now? In the middle of the field?

Fuck.

Bloodhound -

If there's anyone out there who'd understand the panic you're experiencing now, it's them. They wouldn't want anyone to see their face, especially in the middle of the battlefield.

Bloodhound knows better than to stare. Even if they caught a glimpse of your face they respectfully avert their gaze, focusing on the incoming fight instead.

They've seen you come out of fights with much worse scrapes, but when you hesitate so do they.

Minding to keep their eyes off you, they grab your mask off the ground and hold it up to you without a word.

Thankfully there's nobody around, nor are there any cameras close enough to your cover.

They keep watch over you while you fix the mask back onto your face the best you possibly can, and only when you're done do they look at you.

Noticing your trembling form they try their best to soothe you, resting their hand on your arm and giving it a small squeeze. “Stay with me, félagi fighter. The fight is not over yet.”

As empathetic as they are, they can't do anything but bring your focus back to the battle.

It's hard to get a grip on your panic – eyes blurry and ears ringing, you're disorientated and zoned out - but you know you have to. It's either pushing your feelings to the side to deal with them later, or risking dying.

Bloodhound keeps a hand on your arm until you're calm enough to stand and move. Eyes locking with yours you give them a nod, a thanks, and their whole form relaxes some.

“Good. Let's move, myndarlegur. It is not safe here.”

Carefully they lead you out of the danger zone and towards somewhere quieter.

They keep an eye on you throughout the rest of the game, both out of concern and interest.

Whether or not the two of you win doesn't matter. As soon as the game's over and you're free to go Bloodhound checks up on you. They don't bring up whether or not they've seen your face, and with how they're acting you're not entirely sure they did, but if you need to they let you lean on their shoulder as the panic from the day's events catch up to you.

Octane -

Unlike Bloodhound, Octane's a bit too stunned to snap his gaze away from you in time. When your eyes lock he tenses, feeling like he was caught red handed over something he wasn't ever supposed to see.

How can he look away though? Have you seen your face? That's... A dumb question, but he's seen it now too! And MAN, he looked away more out of bashfulness than anything else.

His heart leaps to his throat when he forces out a laugh to dismiss the situation, clicking his tongue. “Ai, amigo, you gotta be more careful. Custom masks like that are a bitch to replace.”

Shaking his head he hands you the mask, frowning when he notices how badly its broken. There's no way you can put it back on.

The realisation draws over you the same second and suddenly it's much harder to breathe than before.

With your vision spinning you lean back on the wall heavily, knees almost buckling under you while the gun slips out of your hand and falls to the ground with a clatter. A vague wave of pain passes through you when you grip your face too hard but you're too zoned out to care.

One moment your vision is spinning, the other you feel fingers prying your hand away from your face. Then, you're staring at maskless Octane grinning his stupid grin at you while he makes sure his own mask sits comfortably on your lower face.

He dismisses you when you ask why, waving his hand in the air as if it was nothing.

“What are friends for, huh? Besides, we have a game to win. Can't have you distracted while we kick ass!”

And kick ass you do.

Sure, he looks kinda dumb with just his goggles and head covered, but with the air filter built in this mask it's much more comfortable to breathe than in your own.

After the game is over Octavio sticks to you like glue, both to check in on you and to let you know you can keep the mask until you can replace yours.

Like hell you're gonna give it back. You're keeping it and he's more than okay with that.

Pathfinder -

Pathfinder, sweet, helpful Pathfinder, notices your mask is gone quicker than you notice your bleeding. Fortunately, he's also the quickest one to jump into action.

“Careful, friend! Faces aren't meant to be shot through.”

You're panicked and shaking, covering your face, and the last thing on his mind is your face. He's focusing on double-checking nobody's near before looking back to you and holding out a medkit to you.

He enjoys looking at your face, of course, so he doesn't look away until you turn away and it finally clicks in his head that you're probably uncomfortable. After all, some people like having their face covered and you happen to be one of those people.

Looking around he pinpoints your mask and dusts it off, holding it up to you.

Noticing you're not moving and your eyes are leaking he tilts his head to the side, only realising you're having a panic attack when his thumb feels the pulse in your wrist.

“Oh no, this isn't good. Don't worry, I've got you.” Immediately his attitude changes from cheerful to deeply worried, and he's wriggling the medkit out of your hand to grab you and get the two of you out of the open.

Thankfully, he holds you close to his chest while he grapples to the safety of the indoors – locking the doors and setting you down in the corner – to make sure no cameras can catch a glimpse of you.

Once inside he rummages through the kit to patch you up, giving you a heads up at the incoming sting loud enough to get through your brain haze so you can brace yourself for it.

With that done he gets to work on fixing your mask up the best he can – he's not great at it but he can get a few strong stitches in quick enough before you need to get moving again.

“There, just like new – only slightly torn.” He beams at you.

By the time he's done you're staring at him openly, eyes dried, mind still foggy but you're grounded enough to bring yourself back into the present. You've been staring at him all throughout and if he noticed he didn't say anything. You're grateful for it.

Pathfinder hands you the mask and you shakily put it on, gasping when he ruffles your head to ground you further.

“Do you need another minute or are you feeling well enough to keep going? We always can outrun the ring with my zip-line, so don't worry about that.”

You let him know you need another minute, and he nods before walking off to double-check if it's still safe in the building. Once he's back he looks at you, head tilting to the left while a question mark pops up on his chest monitor.

“I do have a question for you, friend.”

Your mouth runs dry. There it is-

“Are you alright?” You blink up at him, genuinely expecting him to ask about your mask or why you wear it. Instead, he continues, “I'm sure we can forfeit if you need to leave. Your well-being matters more to me than winning.”

Your heart swells, both with anxiety and appreciation, but you ultimately shake your head from side to side, letting him know you just need another moment.

You might not win, but with a friend like Pathfinder, who's willing to give up winning just to make sure you're okay? You're gonna have to make sure he knows how much he means to you.

[theres-a-body-here]

Scumtober- Day 27 (Breathe Play)

Alexander Nox x Male!reader

Alexander couldn't help but feel irritated by how needy you seemed today. Yet, despite his frustration, your constant teasing had managed to arouse him — something he hadn't expected to feel in the middle of a game.

Now, here you both stood in one of the buildings at World's Edge; him pinning you against a wall while trying to hide his obvious erection beneath his pants. You could tell he was irritated behind his gas mask as he held his gloved hand to your throat.

"Aww, come on, Gas Daddy. I was just messing with you," you cooed playfully, referring to that little incident involving a cheeky slap on his rear earlier. Hearing those words sent chills down Alexander's spine – not because they were endearing, but rather due to sheer annoyance. His grip tightened around your neck as he let out a low growl.

A soft moan escaped your lips as you felt his hold on your neck increase. Watching your reaction brought forth a mix of discomfort and pleasure within Alexander – causing him to grit his teeth while simultaneously feeling his member twitch inside his pants.

Noticing his conflicted demeanor, you smirked before whispering softly, "You like treating me like this..." Pausing for effect, you added, "...Alexander?"

At the sound of his name spoken so intimately, he reacted instinctively by slamming you harder against the wall, eliciting yet another moan from deep within your throat.

Frustrated beyond belief, Alexander muttered a series of profanities underneath his breath while roughly tearing away the clothing that hung past his pelvis using his free hand. With the other still firmly grasping your neck, he quickly undid his buckle and pulled open his pants.

Alexander reveals his hardened member, its pale color standing out starkly against the dim light filtering through the windows.

Unable to resist taunting him further, you manage to choke out a sarcastically flirtatious comment, "Oh, what a pretty white cock!" This only fuels his frustration even more, resulting in another violent slam against the wall.

Alexander snaps back at you, "Keep it shut!" His voice sounds menacing even through the muffled filter of his gas mask. Complying with his order, you remain silent as he continues to apply pressure on your windpipe. Meanwhile, he presses his head against the wall beside yours, letting out quiet grunts of pleasure as he starts stroking his erection in earnest.

Determined to take control of the situation, you beg him, "Come on, let me help!" However, Alexander refuses to relinquish any power over the scenario – instead choosing to keep his grip firmly on your neck as he continues furiously stroking himself.

Through ragged breaths, Alexander informs you, "Consider this punishment for being such a pest throughout our entire game." His tone leaves no room for argument, making it clear that he won't tolerate any further interference from you.

Ignoring his warning, you continue to squirm and buck your hips into the air, desperate for some relief from the building sexual tension. But Alexander remains unfazed, focusing solely on achieving his release while maintaining his vice grip on your vulnerable throat.

In the silence of the abandoned building, the only audible sounds are your strained, moaning breaths and the wet, squelching noises emanating from Alexander's rapidly moving hand upon his swollen cock.

Unable to resist touching him, you gently caress the hand wrapped around your neck. This small gesture sends shivers down Alexander's spine, causing him to groan deeply and pick up the pace of his already frenzied strokes.

Summoning every last bit of strength left within you, you call out his name. "Alexander....". You sounded both strained and intimate.

Without hesitation, he lifts his head from the wall and presses his body flush against yours – ensuring every curve and contour align perfectly together. Then, he leans in closer, pressing his gas mask against your face.

Finally allowed some reprieve, you let out a whimper of relief and immediately start to buck your hips against the solid warmth of his body. Alexander obligingly adjusts his position, turning slightly to the side so he can continue stroking himself while gazing upon your beautiful, struggling expression.

Granting you a brief respite, Alexander releases his hold on your neck just enough for you to catch your breath. "Breathe," he orders, his voice low and commanding. Obeying without question, you suck in several deep breaths before feeling his hand constrict around your throat once more.

With renewed vigor, you resume thrusting yourself against Alexander's body while simultaneously battling for air as his hand tightens its grip on your throat. All the while, you fixate your gaze on the erotic sight of his slick, pulsing cock gliding across your trembling, clothed thigh.

Reaching the peak of his arousal, Alexander releases a guttural groan as he ejaculates onto your clothes, his gas mask remaining firmly pressed against your now teary face. As he reaches his climax, his grip on your throat tightens almost unbearably, threatening to cut off all oxygen supply completely. Just when you think you might pass out, he finally relaxes his hold, allowing you to regain consciousness and draw much needed air into your lungs.

Silence descends upon the two of you as you both recover from the intense experience. Still panting heavily, you lock eyes with Alexander, unable to look away from the intensity burning within his cold gaze. Suddenly, he reaches down and cups your swollen erection through the fabric of your pants.

Before anything can happen, the sound of footsteps echoes through the building from somewhere below. Startled, Alexander quickly withdraws his hand and begins tucking his spent penis back into his pants.

Frustrated by the abrupt interruption, you emit a frustrated whine, still desperate for release. Hearing your disappointment, Alexander grunts in annoyance before gruffly speaking, "I'll deal with you after the game is over."

Accepting his words as a promise, you allow yourself a triumphant smirk as you retrieve your Alternator. "So, it's a date then?" you teasingly ask, relishing in the slight blush that creeps onto Alexander's cheeks from behind his gas mask.

Briefly thrown off by your bold declaration, Alexander regains his composure and scoffs dismissively. "Insect," he mutters, though this time his usual derogatory term seems laced with something akin to affection.

Seizing the opportunity to escape the awkwardness, he snatches up his Nemesis and storms out the door before you can respond.

You shake your head and laugh before following him to face who's downstairs. You wonder what he'll do to your in his bedroom. No point in imagining now. Its time to win this game even if you have a rager the whole time.

Scumtober 2023 Masterlist

[that-one-weeb-buts-its-the-main]

Being Bloodhounds Younger Sibling pt. 2

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Reader: Gender Netural | "you" | Platonic

Notes: the gif makes me smile, bloodhound smiling 🥺

Warnings: none really? Fighting?

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To be honest, when you seen Bloodhound ontop of Fuse like that you were tramatized.

"Y/n-"

Just immediately closing the door.

"I understand your pain now Arthur."

Finally someone gets his pain.

So in traumtization buddies, you feed him instead, along with giving Bear a snack because he ate already

Akward...

You best be sure when Fuse and you get placed on a team he's like:

"So. Eh..heh...hows your day going."

"Good. I suppose. But your face reminds me of the time my sibling was ontop of you."

"Ah...eh...houndy likes to feel poweful."

"My sibling is powerful. You cannot handle them. They go soft on you."

Fuse figures out soon that you dont exactly know what your talking about....

But that kinda makes Fuse think. Is bloodhound easy on him?

Fuse tries to get to know you the best you'll let him. Your standoffish, keep to yourself, Pathfinder is someone thats only really gotten close to you, both physically and mentally.

Its true you've stuck yourself to Pathy while out and about, he showed you kindess and was simply pure of heart

So he was allowed to hug you, allowed to get in your personal space

He just has a vibe that makes him want to be around.

Despite you not suppose to be as he's technology

You see alot of Vantage, Fuse and Bloodhound together.

You figured Vantage is there daughter but wonder why you hadnt been introduced yet.

But before you could bring any of that up your older sibling comes knocking at your door.

"Hi."

"Hello."

"Come in."

Bloodhound walks in taking off the mask and helmet, setting it down, "Come. Sit."

Y/n and Bloodhound take a seat on the floor, "i have something for you."

Y/n watched as a box was handed towards them.

"They will aid you."

Y/n was silent as Bloodhound opened the box, "They will help you hear again. Better, easier."

Y/n looked at the book and shook there head.

"Y/n please."

"That is against our ways."

"Y/n." Bloodhound spoke grabbing there hand, "We cannot keep ignoring our future. Rayma has made them for you. They blend in with your hair and skin, they will be hard to see."

Y/n was silent as they watched Bloodhound take them out the box. They trusted Bloodhound with there full heart and mind, and allowed there sibling to fit them to there ears.

"There-"

A loud ringing came with the word as Y/n quickly pulled them out tossing them away holding there ears in pain.

"Sorry! I'm sorry-"

Bloodhound was quick to grab them from the floor, "too strong I suppose. I will turn them down."

Y/n watched as Bloodhound fixed they twisted a little nib, "Lets do one for now."

With time, Bloodhound adjusted them perfectly to your ears

But they couldnt help the look they were given, you looked lost

Maybe this was the final straw? There really was no going back to the old ways

Bloodhounds thankful to Rayma/Rampart,

And like always they help you adjust

And its werid being able to hear everyone so clearly now.

Pathfinder's excited for you, like holding your hands jumping around excited and Wattson joins in

You dont exactly know whats going on

But to thank Rampart you carve something nice,

You stick with a Prowler, the type that stalk the snowy mountains.

While your carving Pathfinder comes over to talk to you on the drop ship.

"So thats bloodhounds sibling?" Vatnage asked.

"Yeah. That the's rumour goin around!" Rampart smiled, "To be honest though mate, we'll never know by looks. No ones ever seen ol' houndy's face."

"Im gonna go say Hi!"

Vantage happily marched her way over, Y/n silent despite Pathfinder's constant talking.

"Hello! Im Mara!"

Y/n looked up then back down at there carving.

"Ooo you carve too? Im a carver myself." Vantage cheered watching Echo relocated infront of Bear.

"Bloodhound is with Fuse. I believe they are the upper deck." Y/n spoke, "Do not eat the bat."

Bear backed up and pouted, Y/n going back to work.

"Wow. You knew before he even opened his mouth! Thats pretty keen!" Vantage cheered, "But I heard your Bloodhound's sibling. You're a hunter too then?"

Vantage was answered with Silence, "You're name's Y/n right? What was your village like?"

Silence again, "Silence is fun too! I'll sit with you and carve with you!"

Y/n was quiet, they always were, after all they had no social skills outside there sibling relationship.

But with this Y/n couldn't help but feel....replaced.

Bloodhound had Fuse, and Vatnage.

They an odd little makeshift family

You didnt wanna ruin anything bloodhound had made for themselves, but the idea of them kinda just going off and leaving to make a new family kinda hurt

You'd never admit that though.

"Hey! Mara!" Mirage cheered making his way over.

"Mr. Witt!" She smiled, "Mr.Witt! This is Y/n! They're bloodhound's sibling! Well. I think they are atleast. Y/n! This is Mr.Witt! He's super cool!"

"I just came to introduce myself to the g-gor-to the pretty new person." Mirage flirted.

"Do you think you are pretty?" Y/n questioned.

"A little yeah." Mirage smiled, leaning on the nearby crates just to slip and fall, Y/n watching him scramble to his feet.

"So! Me? You!? Pork chops?" He smiled, "I have booze! Wait- that sounds wrong- I'm a bar tender! A good one at that!"

"If you're asking me for a partnership you must ask the eldest of my house."

"Oh! Yeah! Parent consent's...cool. even at our age...anyway-"

"Bloodhound is on the upper deck." Y/n responded.

"Huh?"

"Bloodhound is eldest." Y/n informed, "It is bloodhounds word."

Wait....he's....gott ask...

NOT THE HUNTER.

He'll admit. Bloodhound, sweet, nice, but in situations like the games, and serious moments they're pretty uh....spoopy

BUT HE GOES THROUGH WITH IT

WAIT- NO- WAIT MIRAGE NO

"So...Y/n..."

Bloodhound looked at the man, "ah you have met my sibling. I do hope they did not stab you, social skills are not there strong suit."

"No! No! No!"

"Then?"

"I wanted to take them to the bar. Ya know. Hang out with them."

"The bar is not there strong suit i assure you. If you wish to hang out with them truly. Ask to go on a hunt."

"Aye! Witt ya ol' fella!" Fuse cheered coming up with two bottles in his hand, handing one to bloodhound, "if I'da known ya were gonna be here I'da brought you a bottle."

"Im not staying long. Just askin about Y/n."

"Yeah? What's up with the kiddo anyway? Stab anyone new?"

"Witt was hoping to go on....a hangout as he called it." Bloodhound commented.

"Ya wanna take Y/n out on a date?" Fuse commented, "Good Luck."

"What is that ment to mean?" Bloodhound spoke.

"What? Nothin. Y/n...the kid's...just uh." Fuse told, "Diffrent....ya know?"

"No. That is why I inquired."

"The kids....hard to be friendly with. Kids...off putting, rough around the edges."

"You are saying my sibling is rude-"

"No-"

"Then what?" Bloodhound asked standing up.

"I told ya! Y/n's rough around the edges!" Fuse spoke in defense, "Hey! Maybe witt will smooth em out, huh?-"

"Y/n does not need smoothing out. None the less a man nor woman to do so." Bloodhound argued, "here."

The bottle was shoved in Witt's chest, he catching it quickly, "Goodbye. I need to check on Arthur."

"Houndy! I didn-"

But bloodhound was already gone.

You were confused as Bloodhound came back upset though No one could tell but seemingly you

You chased them down worried.

"No need. I am alright." Bloodhound reassured, "I will be back-"

Y/n grabbed Bloodhound by the shoulder stopping them, "Last time you said you'd be back you left....for a long time."

Bloodhound sighed, "I. I am sorry."

"You have apologized enough. I just want to you to tell me whats going on. I can not stop you if you wish to leave."

"A small tussel with Fitzroy is all." Bloodhound responded, "I supoose I am a little defensive as of recent."

So you go to sit with your sibling. Its nice to be in each others presence even in silence.

You're for sure targeting Fuse next match.

So it helps that next match you get put with Revenant and Mad Maggie.

"I want Fitzroy's head."

"I like you already skinsuit."

Talk about trail following. Dude your like ontop there team.

Fuse, Loba and Bloodhound all on one team

So you'd for sure have to take out Fuse secluded.

Luckily your able to single him out, throwing him against a wall.

"Woah now! Houndy wouldn't like you killin' me eh?" Fuse tried to persuade, a joke in the tone of his voice.

"You upset them."

"Ah. That. We talked that out I swear!"

"Hm." Y/n hummed in thought, "Oh well, better luck next time."

finisher for the kill? absolutely

But then Maggie's shouting she's down, and Revenant follows quickly after.

"One last egg! Callin it your family!"

Oh...Is Bloodhound the last one standing?

you can be sure there's an epic standoff.

"May the all father guide my victory."

"And may the Ragnarok falling be as brutal as yours shall be this day."

Bloodhound chuckled, "You were always one for the fall."

"The fall is just as important as the rise." Y/n spoke in defense, "you taught me that."

"You listened well for having been impaired," Bloodhound praised, let us see if your tongue is as swift as your knife."

"Verbalailty is something you reached me not to lean on as well." Y/n spoke, both taking a step forward, "I do hope your age has not impaired you much."

With the last words, they charged at one another, cargo bots that also acted as cameras in the games focused in on the two.

"Hey! Hey! wait!" Wattson called, "Look!"

The two teams stopped the firing, and they all looked at one of the larger screens that were usually meant to show legends, playing the battle out.

"You never bring a knife to a gunfight," Bangalore spoke.

"I don't think it's the gun Y/n's worried about," Wraith told in defense.

"An interesting fighter indeed," Ash praised, "but stupid, very, stupid."

Y/n was knocked on their side, groaning, knife and axe were knocked away.

"You fought well little one." Bloodhound praised, "But I must finish what I have started."

Bloodhound was quick to grab their own axe, Y/n getting to their feet as they stood ready to defend.

Cue the epic battle music

You werent giving up easy, and neither was your older sibling

Think about the Kratos verus Thor fight from the beginning of the game, and...just...thats you guys

But when weapons get knocked away, slidding off the side of the platform is when you both finally realize your just above lava

You got pinned to the railing but managed to fill bloodhound over you barely catching there hand before they fell into the lava below.

"What are you doing!?" Bloodhound argued, "let me go!"

Y/n looked down at them, they'd kill Bloodhound for victory? For Slatra...

"I. I can't!" Y/n argued.

"Y/n! Let me go you've won!" Bloodhound defended.

"I cant! I can't!"

"Why not!?"

"I can't loose you!"

Its like morality had struck you, you were killing your sibling.

"Y/n. Let me go." Bloodhound ordered, "I will be alright. Remember. It is just a game. I will see you back on the ship."

Y/n looked down, loosinging there grip, "You promise?"

"I promise."

So, you dropped Bloodhound, winning the smaller battle, and picked up both teammates.

"Ya crack an egg, good on you kid."

"yeah. Thanks..."

Okay everybody going back to fighting now

Sure enough, you did

You didn't win, placed in the top three though.

You could care less though and ran straight to Bloodhound hugging them tightly.

They congratulate you on your success, you were doing quite well for being new

no matter how old you get praise from your older sibling is always reassuring

Mad Maggie out of all people consoles you, sitting beside you

"You took a big step eh?" She spoke, "It gets easier kids, don't cha worry! Take it from me."

"You're people."

She looked at Y/n and chuckled, "Eh, Salvo's one hell of a dog's arse if I say so at the moment."

"You're people are lucky to have a warrior such as yourself."

"Suppose I'm a bit of a fuck up. Especially when it come to the family."

Y/n looked at her as she handed over a bottle, "One for the top three."

Y/n nodded taking the bottle, "I suppose, I am a fuck up as well."

"Don't let it get ya down-"

Maggie went silent as she watched Y/n chug the liquid from the bottle, "ugh!" Y/n gaged pulling it away "Burns-"

She only laughed as their gagging self.

Here comes Mirage asking you out again,

"On a hunt."

"You hunt here?"

"yeah sure why not."

It's been a while since you went on a hunt, and so you invited Bloodhound excitedly.

Vantage wants to go and even cuts in asking.

You are still iffy about Vantage: you can't help it, just human nature you suppose, being jealous.

But here comes octane wanting to join too,

"A group hunter sounds refreshing. Y/n?"

You nodded and said you were inviting one more person too then.

So when you're all dropped off and given a few days rest, you all gather at a ship, and there you come dragging Revenant

Mirage wishes he just invited you to read in his room at this point.

[kkarmiic]

#’ OCTANE WITH A FEMININE PRESENTING M!READER

F!Reader DNI!

🫐 ‘CONTENT AND WARNINGS

\\ synopsis: your relationship with crypto as a feminine presenting guy

‘+ genre: fluff

*# warnings: a little bit of misgendering at the start

requests open!

#’ PRE RELATIONSHIP

This is assuming you’re also in the apex games, but he had most likely seen you around in the arena, he didn’t think much at first.

That was until you two were teamed up, you were pretty quiet at first, just looting until he called you over, flagging an item for you to take.

“Ven aquí chica!” He yelled towards you, gesturing you in with his hand.

And although you began running towards him, you still questioned his words. “Chica?”

And now, he was just confused as you were, I mean, he’s usually not one to assume, but you did look pretty feminine.

But your voice. That was certainly unexpected, it almost made him do a double-take to check for any enemies.

But it came from you. You in your feminine outfits with makeup, you who looked so pretty????

He was dumbfounded.

“Sorry, chico.” He corrected himself, which was oddly shocking, previous teammates hadn’t been so kind, even in the arena they had chosen to battle you over your own identity.

You nodded, simply continuing to loot, however, out of the corner of your eye, you could still see Octane staring at you.

Even though Octane wasn’t one to engage in a ‘boring convo’ as he puts it, he was still intrigued by you.

However, it was your fighting that really got him hooked on you, so graceful yet so merciless, he was hooked.

You took the risks with him, you didn’t care what others thought, and yet you still let him have most of the spotlight.

You had won that battle, along with him and Mirage, and so that night he ended up knocking on the room of your door in the drop ship.

You, tired and mildly wounded, opened the door with droopy eyes and a yawn.

“Mmm Octane?” You peered up at him, speaking through said yawn.

“Hey Y/N!” He spoke, leaning against your door frame. “Can I come in?”

And so you obliged, shutting the door behind him, allowing him to sit on your bed while you laid back on the pillow.

He took a deep breath before beginning to speak.

“Ehh…chico, I just came here to apologize. I’m not one to do things like this, but you were pretty good out there. You run in with me like there’s no tomorrow, I like that about you! So, sorry for calling you chica, chico.”

His voice was racing as if he was afraid it would go away any minute, and you could barely keep up with what he was saying, although it sounded somewhat like a compliment.

“Can I make it up to you?” He grinned.

To say that he was attracted to you would be an understatement, he enjoyed your company sure, but it was so much more than that. He just wanted to get to know you better.

"Mmm?" You gestured at him to continue.

"I'll take you on a date, hm?" Confidence ebbed in his voice, and you couldn't help but accept the daredevil's advances, after all, you wanted to go on a date too.

#' RELATIONSHIP

Octane doesn't like to go out to restaurants, he prefers cheap takeaway and then spends his money on adrenaline-rushing activities.

Like for your first date, he took you to a theme park.

He definitely forced you to go on all the big rollercoasters and 'scary' rides with him.

While it didn't give him as much of a rush as the Apex games do, he was just glad to be spending time with you.

It was probably one of those theme parks by the sea, and so after, he took you into one of those fish and chips food places and got you ice cream and food.

And if it's one of those with the arcades, he will fight to get you a plushie from the claw machines, no matter how rigged they are, he will spend his entire savings fund to get you a stuffed toy.

AND HE DOES!

If you have it in your bed and sleep with it, he'd be unbelievably happy.

He loves the way you dress, the way you present doesn't matter to him but he still enjoys what you'll come up with outfit-wise.

After all, he is bisexual.

When he's out, he will definitely see something that reminds him of you and get it, he just likes seeing the way you react to little gifts.

And when you fight, that's something that gets his heart racing, he is ridiculously attracted to you.

He will let that be known, when you shoot people and finish people, he will shower you with compliments, and your other teammate will probably be sick of you two, but he doesn't care.

You'd just spent time cuddling with him after games, and he'd love every second of it.

If you show him new outfits or skirts, he will tell you how amazing you look, probably jumping around the room in glee with you.

If anyone disrespects you, especially because of the way you dress, saying something like 'how are you a boy if you wear skirts?'.

He would go INSANE. On them.

He'd rip them to pieces telling them exactly how you can be a boy and wear skirts, how clothes aren't gendered, and how their view is so prehistoric they might as well go back to the stone age.

Afterwards, he would check if you're okay, letting you know that he loves how you dress and thinks you look great.

Octane really really loves you.

POSTED BY: APOLLO

[marksbear]

Imagines!

(Warning! Flirting,light smut, Daddy kink, PDA, Light killing, random people/characters and violence.) DON’T LIKE NONE OF THAT SKIP SOME OF THE IMAGINES 

FEM/MINORS DNI

Imagine: Being Pedro Pascal co-star and flirting with him during interviews. Like blowing him kisses,winking,checking him out. And Pedro being a flustered mess.

Imagine: Having Mr Wolf wrapped around your finger(Bad Guys)

Imagine: being the most handsome guy in the base and all the mercs being obsessed and clingy with you trying to get your attention and praise.(TF2)

Imagine: being in a poly-relationship with Arthur Shelby, Tommy Shelby, John shelby and Alfie Solomons. With All the Shelby's watching you and Alfie fuck like animals "Look at the way he takes his cock, like a whore!" Arthur laughs out. Alfie pulls out of you just to slam back in and you scream with pleasure mixed with pain. Tommy takes your cock and jerks you off and himself with John taking your head to suck him off while Arthur says lewd comments to you and jerks himself off as well. "Let's all cum together yeh?" John says and all your lovers nod in agreement. (Peaky Blinders)

Imagine: being christian best friend and helping him through his problems with Pablo and Carla. (Elite) 

Imagine: Being the host for SNL and being Beck Bennett's husband and your monologue is jokes and teases about him and your marriage. "To all the ones who wanna know. I am the top. And yes he has a Daddy kink" You say with an innocent smile. 

Imagine: dating Shawn Michaels and you're in the front row during his match. After he wins his match he runs up to you and grabs your head softly and kisses you as the crowd roars. (WWE)

Imagine: Being a teacher in Hogwarts and all the kids love you. Because of your handsome features, being kind, hardworking, fair and brave. And dating Snape he convinced you to take the job since you're a Pure Blood why not become a teacher. With you and Snape always whispering snarky comments about students and gossip among teachers. One of the downfalls about working as a teacher is dealing with nosy students. Over eight times students asked about your love life and following you non-stop. ( Harry potter)

Imagine: being the only person in the world that Revenant trusts and loves. During the game you wanted a break from hunting squads so you told him to have a break. He only looked at you weird, but didn't argue and nod. When y'all find a place you start to ramble about your day and Revenant grabs your head and kisses you roughly and whispers on your lips "Shut up skinsuit or I'll kill you." (APEX)

Imagine: You and Patrick Bateman being obsessed with each other. With Patrick will give up everything and end people's lives for you. And you manipulate him to stop being around certain people.(American Psycho)

Imagine: Being Jason Gideon's husband and secretly being an unsub the worst of the worst of  unsub. The FBI has been trying to catch you for years ,but you kept getting off their radar. The way you kill your victims was that every month for the first three weeks you slaughter anyone that crosses your path as soon as you see them alone. After each kill you go to a meat shop that your parents own and grind the meat up and pack it up and put it in the deep freezer. After all that you rush home to your husband to give him tons of affection giving him soft and rough kisses to his feet all the way to his head giving him all the attention he needs. You tried to stop killing people for the longest but your parents keep pressuring you to keep doing it since 'it 's good for business.' You're utterly terrified of the day you get caught and most likely get death row. But death doesn't scare you it's leaving your husband all alone in this world and all the stress he has. "I'm so sorry Jay..." You spoke in his ear softly full of sadness and guilt holding onto him tighter. (criminal minds)

[urfavenarrator]

COMMISSIONS:

This is an NWLNW blog, and I will not write Fem reader

CxR and CxC

Note: it can takes me about 2-4 days to write fanfic because of work and it can be longer if I already have other requests. Also any minors I have on my commission page will be aged up to +18, I do write for female charecter but I do not write X Fem reader

Note 2: if it's not on here feel free to ask and please feel free to add every detail you want; it's your request I won't judge but I will publicly kink shame you

Will do's:

MLM

T4T

NbLM

NSFW

BDSM

Exhibitionism

Dirty talk

Humiliation

Wax play

Stigmatophilia

Ropework

Knife Play

Degradation kink

Praise kink

Impact play

Auralism

Exhibitionism

Body worship

Oral fixation

Asphyxiation

Deapthroating

Overstim

Edging

Muscle worship

Masks

Pillow princess/prince

Face fucking

Cockwarming

Toys

Brat taming

Forecd in to submission

Breeding

Smuff

Comfort sex

Monster fucking/loving

SFW+Random

Age gap (both parties must be adults)

Age ups

Au's

Hurt/comfort

Angst

Fluff

Charecter x reader

Charecter x Charecter

Mental age regression

Won't do's:

Underage

FEM READER

Certain kinks

Furries

Beastiality

Insest

People from ohio

Rape

Fandoms:

TWD(show)

Daryl Dixion

Rick Grimes

Carl Grimes

Negan Smith

Enid

Connie

Rosita

Ron Anderson

TlOU(game + HBO)

Joel Miller

Tess Servopoulos

Ellie Williams

Tommy Miller

Apex legends

Everyone (except pathfinder)

Overwatch

Everyone (except Hammon???, and winston)

Cod

Ghost

Soap

Valerie

Price

Graves

Rudy

König

Horangi

Nikto

Rainbow six

Everyone

A way out

Leo

Vincent

DbD

All survivors

All killers(except Victor and Pinhead)

The thing

R.J.

Windows

Sam

TCM

Bubba sawyer

Nubbins sawyer

Johnny sawyer(slaughter?)

L.G McPeters

Sissy sawyer

Thomas Hewitt

Slashers

Michael myers

Billy Loomis

Stu matcher

Braums

Jason

Mortal kombat

Reptile

Johnny cage

Kenshi

Subzero(bi-han)

Subzero(kuai liang)

Scorpion(kuai liang)

Smoke

Baraka

Kitana

Mileena

Sheeva

Resident evil

Leon

Chris

Clair

Carlos

Jill

Ashley

Luis

Rebecca

Wesker

Ada

[menace-writes]

Reader Thigh Fucking Mirage — [Elliott Witt - Mirage]

Word count: 178

I love Mirage so much I would do anything to and for him

Warning(s): Thigh fucking

[9-26-22]

WIP below

[qtipcottonbuds]

𝙁𝙀𝘽𝙐𝙒𝙃𝙐𝙈𝙋 ‘𝗢𝟭 ; 𝙒𝙄𝙏𝙃 𝙍𝙀𝙑𝙀𝙉𝘼𝙉𝙏  [TOUCH STARVED]

a submitted request from a03 <33 think this could’ve been better really. my take on it 🕴🏼

warnings ;; angst, possible mild language, mentions of gore and injury, pre-relationship, technically assisted murder/suicide, not too sure etc.

by qtipcottonbuds 2023. do not repost.

𝗥𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗡𝗔𝗡𝗧 𝗫 𝗚𝗡!𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥;

Revenant can be gentle, is what he tells himself. He is more than capable of being gentle. Yet, the hiss he lets out over the comms is anything but - a harsh dismissal, that he’ll deal with it. The majority of the time, regardless of his randomised teammates within the games, take the bait immediately. He is more than capable (and he hates it). Ash more often than not looks at him blankly, milky white receptors unfaltering, but it's a look of concern, pity. He hates that too; he’s glad he’s not stuck with her this time. Too little questions and too much noise. 

He knows you're staring at him, up from where you’re slumped into his chest. The reddish HUD infographic is ever present in the corner of his eye, picking up your heart rate, erratic and jerky. It used to unsettle him, the automated monitoring of a steady heartbeat, only to be snuffed out within seconds. It wasn’t so much of the visuals that bothered him, but the soft, rhythmic beeping - not loud, but audible enough if you took the time to focus and tune into it.

He isn’t sure though, when this started to happen. To become a habit. You’d never admitted openly that you feared death - you didn’t relish in it either. It was something to be done, a natural stage of the life cycle; but the Apex Games would force your hand. Kill or be killed. But, he found himself actively seeking you out, observant on who had been eliminated. Most Legends would draw out the kill, often tapping into repressed parts of themselves. And Revenant understood that, more than anyone. If emotion was fueling the motive, it made it all the more satisfactory. This was a blood sport for money, though. Not grudges. 

A hand curls around his wrist (receptors whirring at the sensation, because he is not used to kindness, not then, and not now, even as-) carelessly, no real regard and too soft for the given situation, yet you’re staring up at him, smiling weakly, bloody teeth and all.

“...You’ll be quick, right? Like, like last time…?” The words are forced, rattling around and out with harsh wheezes.

You’d probably caught onto his gaze occasionally flickering over to your watch, the expiration timer decreasing by the second.

He doesn’t answer immediately. He doesn’t have to, there’s no obligation - and there’s a weight on the tip of his synthetic tongue, uncomfortably heavy; he’ll do it anyway. You deserve that.

So he settles for a short nod. 

You beam at him, weakly rubbing a thumb, albeit coated in drying blood, over his wrist. A silent thank you.

Lanky fingers, metallic and cylindrical, graze across your wrinkled shirt, matted with fresh blood. He then places his palm flat against your ribcage, just short of where your heart is, waiting. Alive - even if it’s for a little bit longer. The thrum of the muscle is there, muted, struggling to supply blood to where it was needed most. Revenant found something about that awfully endearing, and at times, times like this, he wishes he were human. Flesh against flesh.

You don't stop him either, even as you wince against the slight pressure. Instead you smile warmly, sometimes unknowingly, as you watch on. Watch him. You’d mentioned in passing, that he made death a little easier to handle, especially if it was that quick. 

He prefers not to look at you during your final moments.

Even as cradling your jaw, staring at you with milky white receptors, blinking, before harshly jerking your jaw to the side - the weight of your head crumpling in his grasp

His hand trails up towards your jaw, cradling it with limited tenderness given his capacity, vacant eyes glancing at the weak rising and falling of your ribcage before harshly jerking your head to the side - everything else reducing to static - the weight of your head crumpling in his grasp.

A part of him questions if it’s fitting to punish himself like this.

[rekas-writes]

Kinktober's Smutty Mini Treats 2022

(I will be making up for the days I missed! So I'm adding 5 more days onto both October events :D)

I thought I'd try out the most popular writing challenge I see floating around so here we go! I will be making a SFW event too! I've decided to try and write a small drabble or so everyday to try and get back into the swing of things, but not overwhelm myself with finishing a bunch of larger projects at the same time.

I will still be doing normal reqs! But I'll also be posting some daily drabbles alongside them to give this blog a semblance of a schedule, and because it motivates me by seeing something complete, even if it's small.

Feel free to also give me your interpretation of the prompt and how you'd like the fic to go based on the prompt! ^^

Please be sure to keep my smut rules/guidelines in mind while requesting one of these prompts!

Claiming

Semi-Public

Dry Humping/Clothes On

Chasing/ Hunter-Prey Dynamic

Brat Taming

Stockings

Bondage

Omegaverse - A/B/O

Praise Kink

Voice Kink

Cockwarming

Short shorts/Tight Shorts/Revealing Clothing

Hidden Toy

Bath/Shower Sex

Aphrodisiacs/Sex Pollen

Breath Play/Choking

Aftercare

Orgasm Denial/Edging

Slow and Tender Sex

Authority Kink

Breeding Kink

Caught

Safe Word

First Time

Morning Sex/Sleepy Sex

Stuck in the Wall

Solo/Masturbation (+ maybe voyeurism)

Humiliation/Degrading Kink

Hate Sex

Corruption Kink

Overstimulation

"Would you believe me if I told you that chocolate and pomegranates were seen as aphrodisiacs? The more you know! Oh, would you like me to wrap up some from the counter to take home? Ah, don't give me that look, dear customer, I'm only teasing~"

[bloodsuckingfiends]

Need

Summary: Astarion is desperate and needy, Tav takes care of him

Pairing: Astarion x Tav (gn!reader)

Warnings: nsfw, subby! Top Astarion, nipple play (male receiving), begging, praise, cream pie (so breeding if you squint)

Word count: 800

A/N: If this is in anyway awful, I blame it on the wine I drank while writing it.

It only really occurred when he was stressed, whether it be about the tadpoles, or Cazador, didn’t matter. He never explicitly verbalized it, but you had your suspicions that it came from the need to feel taken care of whilst still having some semblance of control in the matter. So after a long and arduous day of following dead end leads, that were supposed to be the answer towards everyone’s parasite, Astarion seeks out relief in the way that he’s rediscovering for himself. Which has led the two of you to seek each other’s comfort in the reprieve of his tent.

Your hands brush up his sides, pushing his ruffled shirt up and over his head, fingertips trailing back down his rib cage, leaving goosebumps in their wake as he discards it to the side. Astarion leans forward, guiding you to lay down on his bedroll, barely breaking the kiss that he had initiated. He needs this, his body craves it. To feel taken care of. To feel mindless, free to not think about the stress that paints each passing day of their lives as of late.

He sighs into your mouth, tongue curling around yours, wet and desperately searching. Searching for the heavenly distraction that is needing you. There’s the momentary press of his knee forwards, making space for him to kneel between your awaiting thighs. Your fingers delicately trail back up his sides before venturing across his chest, gently brushing against his nipples which earns a whine from the back of his throat and a cant of his hips against your own.

“You like that, huh?” you murmur against his plush, kiss-swollen lips.

He nods fervently, eyes fluttering shut as you continue to toy with him, gently pinching the buds between thumb and forefinger.

“Use your words, Star.” It’s no secret that this turns Astarion into a puddle before you even think about touching him anywhere else, and it nearly makes his heart beat again when you actively keep him present in the moment. That you make sure he voices what he wants in all of this.

He swallows, words barely making it past his lips before he moans, “Mmhm. Yes, I like it.” His brain is mush already, overwhelmed by your hands touching him so gently, and his painfully hard cock pressing against the confines of his trousers. You realize that the usually boisterous elf seems almost… shy. His cheeks and the tips of his ears ruddy with the blood he supped on earlier from you.

He drops his face to the crook of your neck, soft kisses press to your skin, just below the clotted punctures and faint bruise that he left earlier. He quietly huffs against your neck, mindlessly rutting his hips against the apex of your thighs.

“Tell me what it is that you want, my love.” Your voice croons against the shell of his flushed ear, fingers running through his soft curls.

”Please- need to be inside you.” He thrusts forwards, mindlessly seeking pressure against his arousal. Gods is he desperate, his voice on the verge of whiny.

“Take what you need.”

In an almost frantic state, Astarion strips the rest of your clothing off before discarding his trousers and undergarments. The moment his cock nudges against your entrance, he’s biting his bottom lip, stifling the sounds threatening to spill past his lips. He leans forward, wrapping his arms around you, face against the juncture of your shoulder and neck as he breaches your entrance, a soft sigh meeting your flesh. He almost loses himself, completely overwhelmed by finally filling you. Your very essence completely envelopes him, legs wrapping around his waist, one arm around his shoulders, and the other hand gently holding his head close.

Always making sure he knows, ”You’re so good to me Star.”

He whimpers, hips picking up and thrusting into you. One of his hands moves to grip one of your thighs, pushing it towards your chest to get impossibly deeper. All he feels is you, and all he wants is for you to only feel him too.

“Please- please let me come.” He pants, “Wanna fill you so bad.”

“Come for me, love.” You press a kiss against his temple.

A string of soft moans and whines leave him, and his flushed ears twitch as he empties himself deep inside, hips pressing tightly against yours so he reaches as deep as possible.

As he comes down from his high, he pulls out and rolls to the side, laying his head against your chest, “You didn’t come.” He states.

”Tonight was about you.” You tell him, fingers mindlessly dancing across his shoulders, soothing him further. All he deserved was to be taken care of

[kkarmiic]

*sneakily pulls a request* Could I have Mirage with a gn!reader who just really really wants to spend Valentines Day with him, but they're WAYY too scared to actually say it? So it's a lot of gift giving, compliments, and physical nudges (all while reader is freaking out internally) before someone finally makes the dumb trickster realize what reader wants?? Thank you so much, sorry if this is super specific and have fun with it!! <3

# ‘ OBLIVIOUS GN!READER WITH ELLIOT 'MIRAGE' WITT - VALENTINE'S SPECIAL

🫐 ‘CONTENT AND WARNINGS

\\ synopsis: you want to spend valentines with your favourite trickster, however, he keeps missing all your signals.

+* genre: fluff

# 'warnings: miscommunication, alcohol mentions, slight angst

// authors note: don't apologize about it being specific! I had so much fun writing this! posted in time for valentines too!

Valentine's was close around the corner, about a week away, and you already had someone in mind. One Elliot 'Mirage' Witt. Before it was only a puppy crush, occasionally shooting him small smiles, wanting to hold his hand, however recently, it had spiralled, and you just fell harder and harder. Now, you couldn't get him out of your head but how could you just tell him you wanted to be his valentines? You couldn't! It was far too embarrassing, especially if he rejects you. After all, you wouldn't doubt there were more people than you wanting to be his date.

So instead, you formed a plan, one you weren't actually sure was going to work. Soon, you put your plan into motion, beginning with a sweet treat with a bakery you went to.

You found the perfect time to give it to him by going to the bar he works at for a late-night drink to 'unwind' and there he was, pouring drinks, as usual. And now there you were, with a box containing a singular salted caramel cookie.

"Mirage!" You waved, smiling at the trickster, who perked up at the sound of your voice, waving back as you took your seat.

"The usual?" He asked, already beginning to pour it. This is why you like him. He knew your favourite drinks, food, your fighting style, and he held open doors for you. Mirage was a true gentleman and you couldn't ask for anything more.

You simply hummed in response, retrieving the cookie from your bag, and placing it on the bar counter. "A gift."

Elliot was taken aback for a moment, almost over-pouring your drink, simply flicking his eyes between you and the treat, before sliding your drink to you and peering into the box.

"Oh... I hate this." He spoke at first, and your heart just sank before he laughed. "Just kidding! This is my favourite!" He practically beamed at you, and you returned the expression.

However, your interaction soon fleeted, his job doesn't end when you attempt to flirt with him, he still has other customers to attend to.

The second time you tried to gain his affection, was during a movie night you had with Octane, Mirage, and Crypto. Apparently gift giving wasn't the correct approach, it didn't work last time, maybe that wasn't the love language he liked to recieve.

You knew it was going to be a horror movie, that's what you had planned around. And you knew you were all going in your pyjamas. After all, your legend clothes would be so uncomfortable.

You were the last one to arrive, and they were waiting for you on the couch, a blanket folded neatly on the side.

Mirage's head turned, a soft smile forming on his face, again, as you walked in. Even if you didn't know it, Mirage enjoyed spending time with you, every time you walked into a room he was over the moon. Completely ecstatic with your presence.

"You look really good!" You spoke, even while not saying a name, you were looking directly at him, at his pretty hair, his pretty eyes, and the stubble that you could tell was freshly shaved. He was ever so pretty, he made the butterflies in your stomach erupt, and your heart feel like it was running a marathon.

You really liked him, no matter how many times you pushed your feelings away, or lived in denial, you liked him. No. You loved him. You loved Elliot Witt.

"Thankyou you too!" He remained with his peppy attitude, moving over so you could sit next to him, patting the empty space.

Everything was going exactly like you imagined, and so you sat there, listening to the idle chit chatter of the boys talking about the movie, and you'd occasionally come in with your own quip.

It wasn't until the jump scare where you really put your plan into motion. Your heart hammered and you yelped, practically jumping out of your seat. The position you ended up in? Your face in the crook of his neck, gripping onto his bicep.

"Fuck..." You muttered, letting out a laugh, hot breath on his neck.

"You alright?" He turned towards you, his smile even brighter than it was before. However, you still didn't let go of his arm, instead, tilting your chin up and looking into his eyes.

"Don't act like you didn't jump!" You teased, shaking your head, to which he mirrored your actions.

He took a moment to speak, laughing. "Nah! I wouldn't jump at such a ri- Uh.. Rid- Uh-.." He stammered, taking a moment to think before re-forming his sentence. "Stupid movie!" Mirage was obviously joking, and you couldn't help but notice Crypto staring at you from across the couch.

"Uh- Anyways." You spoke, fidgeting slightly, hands trembling as you asked him the big question.

"Do you want to.. hangout February fourteenth? You know.. Tuesday?" You looked up with hopeful eyes, shaking. You didn't specifically say Valentine's for a reason, at least this way, if called out, you'd have the benefit of the doubt. And you're so glad you did.

"Isn't that valentines day?" Mirage questioned, furrowing his brows, and your heart practically stopped.

You took a moment, acting confused for a moment. Playing dumb. "Oh? Is it? Hah." You tried to hide your disappointment. "Never mind." You slinked off of his arm, resigning yourself into the couch cushions, sitting in silence for the rest of the movie. Only laughing half-heartedly occasionally, you just hoped they couldn't tell.

You soon ended up in your room, legs tucked to your chest on your floor. You knew that he wouldn't like you. You knew it. So why did you get your hopes up? Idiot.

You stayed like that, curled in your room for a couple hours, just mulling over your feelings. It was sad, but there was nothing you could do now. Valentines was two days away, and Mirage, quite obviously wasn't interested in you. It was hopeless.

Sleep that night was restless, constantly waking up in a cold sweat from bad dreams, or the sheets being too hot. You were more tired after you woke up, than you were drifting off to sleep.

The next time you awoke, was not to your body temperature being unregulated or a bad dream, but instead to a knock on your door. It sounded awfully urgent and so you pulled yourself out of bed, body too groggy to even compute what was happening. That was until you saw who was there.

Mirage. That woke up you up far too quickly. Eyes as wide as saucers. He was sweaty, hair dishevelled and gasping for air.

"Fuck- Sorry. I probably don't... Look... Good right now." He spoke at last, and you moved to the side, inviting him in and shutting the door behind you.

However, you stayed silent, eyes on the ground, why was he running to you.

"Crypto told me you were trying to ask me out? For valentines?!" He seemed shocked at that statement, you didn't expect him to find out. It was awfully embarrassing and you couldn't even tell how he felt about you, about you trying to ask him out.

Before you could get a word in, he continued. "Is that true? Because- If it's... If it's true I'd really like to go out with you too!" And then you looked into his eyes, how hopeful they were, how he was like a puppy dog waiting on your answer, and you smiled.

"Yeah. It's true Eli." After a moment, he blinked once. twice. thrice and then grinned.

One step closer. Two. "Can I kiss you?" And you let him, let him melt into you, felt the butterflies erupt and your heart race, let him hold you, it's all you'd ever wanted.

Elliot 'Mirage' Witt, was officially your valentines.

POSTED BY: APOLLO

[marksbear]

If your requests are open I was wondering if i could get headcanons or a oneshot for this. So Revenant (Apex), obviously hasnt liked music for a long time, probably even gets a bit ticked off when he hears Fuse or Lifeline playing music. But what if a genderfluid S/o Joins the games and plays a Lyre. Lyres are known for their beautiful music because most people love their music. So what If Revenant hears in and is actually called to it. Like S/o is on the roof of the Apex Facility outside of the games and Revenant hears it and just crawls up to the roof and hides to hear it. Normally people would be scared of him following them but S/o knows, smiles and just continues to play for him.

Okay! I got you! the reader's pronouns are gonna use he/him and they/them! But mostly gn reader

HEADCANONS WITH REVENANT WHOSE S/O PLAYS A LYRE

When y'all weren't together he'll be semi pissed with you and Fuse for playing music all the, and just overall having a chill vibe lmao.

BUT now since both of you are together he doesn't mind as much. Like now he would stop insulting (All the insults he said in the past he didn't mean he just wanted to look tough) your music and all of that.

One of the perks he doesn't like about you playing is that all the attention you get when you play like everyone wants to see you perform it and listen to the lyre. So he gets kinda jealous that your playing for people besides him.

When you first join the games he probably stalks you for a while looking for anything he could tease or use against you. But one time he caught you playing the lyre. At first he'll act annoyed but after only a couple minutes after he'll want to hear it more

He most definitely listens to your songs from afar when yall become a couple. He knows that you won't make fun of him for it, but still is kinda embarrassed because his image is supposed to be a ruthless, soulless killer who isn't supposed to have emotion

During games he always follows you around dating or not even dating he'll follow you around waiting for you to play your lyre.

if y'all come out as a couple to the public during the press conferences. He'll sit and follow you everywhere you go and just make sure it's safe.

Always ask you what pronouns you're using for today and make sure that you feel good about yourself. Even though he's bad at using words and actions his love language is acts of service so he'll do everything that you ask

During break days You take him to a hill to watch the sunset and play your lyre while watching the sunset. It's one of the only things that makes him feel human again

when y'all are having a chill day y'all are usually in yalls shared room and hes asleep (Power off ig) and you playing the lyre. Both bodies cuddled up with each other enjoying each other's company.

fuse walked in once in of yalls chill days and Revenant had woken up and saw Fuse just standing there looking at the both of you and about to ask something. It becomes a staring match until Revenant threatens Fuse that if he told anyone he'll be dead. Fuse just says never mind ask you later and speed walks out.

im done sorry if this is short im most likey gonna do a one-shot of this maybe and thanks for reading and please like. If you liked this you should check out my other work.

-Love Papa Bear

[dreaisgrayte]

Lessons of Lust | Sanemi Shinazugawa and Kyojuro Rengoku x fem!reader

Warnings: oral sex fem!receiving, nipple play, blow job, raw sex, virgin sex, creampie, breeding kink, threesome, cum in the mouth, swallow the cum, hair pulling, brain rot Word count: 1.4k a/n: hey now... Kyojuro and Sanemi brain rot go brrr

“C’mon, baby,” Sanemi coos behind you, his large hands gripping your hips. “You wanna be a good girl for us, right?” Your head falls against the white-haired male’s chest as your breathing falters. A smutty slurping noise echoes around the room, the vibrations of the male underneath you, making it hard to stay upright. 

The flame hashira pops off your clit with a loud smack of his lips. “Keep ‘er quiet Shinazugawa,” He huffs, the grin on his mouth eliciting a growing pressure in your core. Sanemi pulls you flush against him, nipping at the junction of your shoulder and neck. A whimpering mewl slides from your throat as Kyojuro uses the flat of his tongue to swipe the length of your folds. You shudder, the feeling of two men who were your superiors doing such filthy things to you driving you to the very edge. 

It started off as you simply blurting out that you had never been with someone to the flame hashira. He was surprised, to say the least, but he promised he’d train you in the ways of being with someone. That’s when the wind pillar showed up with the quest of sparring with Kyojuro, but he was busy eating out your wet cunt. 

Sanemi sat and gaped, his lilac gaze trying to take in everything at once. How you reached out your fingers for him upon his arrival. The needy look in your eyes as you squirmed atop Kyojuro’s face. He couldn’t help but touch your body, the curve of your breasts, the skin of your stomach, the plush span of your thighs, and your neck. 

You made it obvious how much you enjoyed the rough side of Kyojuro paired with the playful one of Sanemi. You were a wicked thing indeed, especially when your fingertips graze the bulge in the wind hashira’s pants, a fucked out grin tugging on your lips. 

Sanemi blows out a laugh, raising a brow as you continue with your ministrations, panting and moaning while palming at his breeches. “You’re practically beggin’ for more,” He laughs, running his rough fingers down your arm. 

Kyojuro grunts against your thigh, his heated gaze resting on you. “M’thinking we move on to the next lesson.” His teeth sink into the soft skin of your thigh, and your eyes widen before you let out a panted yelp. Sanemi stands up, leaving your back cold and weak. You whine, searching for him only to find the wind hashira dropping his breeches to reveal a stiff pale cock. Your chest lurches at the sight of him, his muscular chest seemingly all pointing to this very spot on his body. There’s a long jagged scar that dips below his pelvis, deliciously curving downward. 

The wind pillar had scars covering his skin, and most likely, the internal ones were deeper than the visible ones. When you first met him, it was an intimidating part of his personality – but now you knew they were tangible proof of just how hard he fought to protect the innocent. “Stop gawking,” Sanemi hisses, stepping toward you with his length firmly in his grasp. “Gods, you’re such a filthy thing,” He brushes the head of his cock against your lips, a gooey liquid connecting your bottom lip to his tip when he pulls back. A twisted smirk plays with his mouth as your tongue darts out to taste the substance he left behind. It’s salty with a hint of sweetness – just like the hashira himself. 

Kyojuro shifts from underneath you, his large hands spreading your thighs even wider. You wince, squeezing your eyes shut from the sudden pressure shooting up your joints. He’s situated the apex of your thighs over the firm place in his pants. The area around the flame pillar’s mouth is red from the ample time spent between your thighs, but a lustful glint in his eyes tells you he’s not done with you just yet. “Since you did such a good job on your first lesson, how about two for one?” Kyojuro nods to Sanemi who grabs onto your chin, pushing his cock against your lips once more. “This is goin’ to hurt before it feels good darlin’, but I know that’s just the way you like it.” The flame hashira unbuckles his belt, sliding it out with tenaciously. Your lips part enough for Sanemi to push into your mouth. He was long, but the sheer girth of the wind hashira is baffling. It’s a miracle he even fits in your mouth as your eyes flutter shut, tears stinging your eyes at the strain. 

Sanemi thrusts against your tongue, grunting in pleasure. “F’ck, so good darlin’” He pants, grabbing the back of your head to sloppily fuck your face. You whimper against his length, hungry for something more. Somehow you still felt empty, but – almost as if hearing your thoughts – Kyojuro lines himself up at your entrance. Then, with a hum of delight, he slips in. The wind hashira has a fistful of your hair as you groan against his cock. “Mmm, ya’like the way he’s filling you up?” Your eyes open, despite the zaps of pain shooting through your system. You manage to nod, spit dripping down your throat. A dark expression coats Sanemi’s lilac eyes, his grip tightening as he shoves his cock so deep into your throat that it hits the back. You choke, a garble of moans and attempted coughs filling the air. The wind hashira grunts, his eyes squeezing shut. “M’goin’ to cum in that pretty mouth of yours,”

Meanwhile, Kyojuro hits the wall of your maidenhood, a sharp pain jolting through you. Your eyes roll back in your head as he squeezes your hips. “Be brave, sweetheart, it’ll all feel better soon enough,” Then he thrusts past it, breaking the seal of virginity. You shudder and twitch as the excruciating pain slowly folds into a full pleasure. “That’s it, that’s my girl,”

Your mouth tightens around Sanemi’s cock, causing him to pant wildly. “M’so close, fuck, swallow it, take it all,” You brace yourself on Sanemi’s hips, content with how his cum fills your mouth. It takes multiple gulps to get it all down, but you smack your lips with a dazed expression when you’re done regardless. 

If Sanemi weren’t afraid of fucking you too much for the first time, he would’ve bent you over after Kyojuro had his fill. If you looked at him like that again, especially after swallowing his cum, the hashira was sure to fill all of you up with his seed. 

Kyojuro’s cock rocks into you, the slapping of your thighs on his becoming your favorite sound in the world as your moans crack into whimpers. “Yeah, take it all, fuck,” Kyojuro furrows his brows, his nails digging into your hips. “Take it all, gonna fill you up,” He huffs, his thumbs rubbing your stomach. You pant, placing your palms against the soft muscle of Kyojuro’s upper chest. 

Sanemi’s hands reach for your exposed nipples, pinching them between his fingers. “Not so fast,” He grins, twisting them. You throw your head back, the void of your pleasure filling exceptionally fast. “Leave some room for me, Kyojuro,” He starts “Whad’ya say we both fill ‘er up and see who gets her pregnant first?” Sanemi’s other hand slips down your side, spanning over your stomach. 

“Fine by me. That’s okay with you too isn’t it?” His eyes meet yours, and you limply nod, pressing your hands onto both Sanemi’s and Kyojuro’s. “Good,” Kyojuro huffs, his thrusts growing sloppy, the slick sound only edging him closer to his release. The coil wound tightly in your stomach cracks, a screaming moan falling from your lips as you cum hard. Your pussy clenches Kyojuro’s cock as you rock against your climax. It’s a wonderfully fuzzy feeling that spins you into a frenzy as your walls flutter around him. “Fuck you feel amazing. You did amazing,” The wind hashira keeps you still as Kyojuro fucks into you, the shivering pressure of overstimulation nearly sending you over the edge again. “M’ready, shit,” Your head falls as the flame hashira spills into you, a warm fullness coating your insides. 

Sanemi kisses your temple, a soft, warm feeling. Kyojuro loosens his grip on your hips, the indent of his nails leaving crescent shapes. “So did I pass?” Your voice is hoarse when you speak, but it gathers the attention of both males. Kyojuro glances at Sanemi, then shakes his head. Your brows furrow.

“Not…yet,” Sanemi leans onto your shoulder, his cheeks flushing pink. 

Kyojuro chuckles, sitting up to kiss the valley between your breasts. “We’ll just keep going at it until one of us gets you pregnant. Right, Shinazugawa?”

“Right.”

Well fuck.

[menace-writes]

Octane Noncon — [Octavio Silva - Octane]

Word count: 1,974

Got stuck on how to continue but maybe now that it’s been a while since I’ve gone over it maybe I can continue it and get it out and posted :)

Warning(s): Violence, noncon, cnc/consensual non-consent

[9-25-22]

WIP below

[rekas-writes]

October's Spooky Autumn Mini Treats 2022

(I will be making up for the days I missed! So I'm adding 5 more days onto this event :D)

I thought I'd try out a month-long writing prompt challenge to give my blog more regular updates! I will be making an NSFW event too! I've decided to try and write a small drabble or so everyday to try and get back into the swing of things, but not overwhelm myself with finishing a bunch of larger projects at the same time.

I will still be doing normal reqs! But I'll also be posting some daily drabbles alongside them to give this blog a semblance of a schedule, and because it motivates me by seeing something complete, even if it's small.

As a heads up, some of these prompts may turn into a horror-esque drabble due to the spooky side of October! If you req something seemingly ominous from this list, you can specify whether or not you want that sprinkle of horror.

Feel free to also give me your interpretation of the prompt and how you'd like the fic to go based on the prompt! ^^

Lost

Sweater Weather

Foliage

Jack O' Lanterns

Hot drinks

Idiot

Moon and Stars

Getting Warm

Cough Syrup

Vampire

Summoning Something

Trick or Treat?

Horror Movies

Haunted Grounds

Firewood

Hunted

Boo!

Night-time Walks

Candy

Ouija Board

Fortune Telling

Costume Shopping

Pillow fort

Aromatic Candles

Apocalypse

Spooky Games

Outbreak

Lights Out

Slashers

Terrible Decisions

Costume Party

"October's rather lovely, isn't it? I love the colour of the leaves and the smell of seasonal drinks and foods! Though, be wary. In this season especially, things tend to like to go bump in the night and they may be far closer than you'd like. I'd hate for anything to happen to you, dear customer. Ah, make sure to eat your treats before they go stale!"

[mv1simp]

Haunted ♥️ Part 1 of 2

Alpha!Max Verstappen x Reader (Omegaverse AU)

it’s where we go, it’s what you see (I know if i’m onto you, you must be onto me)

As Mercedes’ rookie female driver, you garner a lot of media attention, even more when you reveal you haven’t presented. You don’t care about true mates or presenting - all you wanted was the championship. You’d be a lot closer to it, if it wasn’t for the dominating Alpha Max Verstappen. But after your late presentation, you two realize there’s a lot more to your bond than competition.

Content includes: 18+ MDNI, smut, size kink, primal themes, dom!Max, Sub!Reader, enemies to lovers. WC: 5.4k

Triumphantly holding the trophy up in your hands, you beam at the sea of black and white fans who scream their approval. Winning your second race after having fought your way throughout the season as the new Mercedes driver was an unforgettable feeling - sealing in that it was your talent, not luck that got you the first. And no one had given you a harder time and held up your long overdue win than the reigning world champion - Max Verstappen. Turning to your right, you reward him with a smirk as your national anthem finally plays instead of the Dutch one.

He doesn’t hide his frustrated glare at you from his P2 podium that instinctively makes you want to sprint away and hide in your safe garage behind Toto. You’re a bit annoyed he’s still taller than you, even though you’re on the highest step. One of the downsides of being 5 foot compared to Max’s tall 6 foot frame - but that hasn’t stopped you from finally taking the win from him and proving how deserving of your seat you are, you remind yourself.

As the first female driver in decades, you’d sent shock waves through the paddock when Mercedes had pulled you out of the F4 pool and straight into their seat after the loss of their golden boy, Lewis Hamilton, to Ferrari. What had been even more shocking was the fact that you were an Unpresented female in a sport that was almost exclusively dominated by Alpha males.

Like the majority of premier athletes, most of the drivers had presented from a very young age as Alphas. Unsurprising - given the traits of ruthless competitiveness, aggression and passion that came naturally to Alphas. And out of all this group of already highly dominating drivers, Max Verstappen was the alpha, well known for his perfect instincts, the ultimate apex predator. His early career was famous because of how, at 17, his intimidating aura had been enough to make grown men racing on the same track give way to the younger alpha. This automatic submission Max was able to elicit from others was one of the many, many benefits that came with being an Alpha in society - especially for one such a powerful as Max.

So when you - who was not an Alpha, or even a Beta, but rather an Unpresented - showed up to the paddock for your first ever race and then ended up somehow going wheel to wheel with the reigning world champion by Lap 20, jaws dropped and headlines were rapidly printed. Presenting as an Alpha was rare, an Omega even rarer - with the majority of the population being Beta. However a small population also remained Unpresented, spending their whole lives without any sign they belonged to any gender. Essentially, you were like a scentless Beta - but just several rungs below on the social ladder as Alpha commands had minimal effect on you. It could be worse, you had mused when started racing - you could have been born an Omega.

Omegas were a rare breed and highly sought after. With their attributes of being sweetly nurturing and natural carers - they made the perfect match for protective Alphas. Of course, as the world had historically always been ruled by Alphas, in turn Omegas had been stereotyped as the soft, submissive, delicate ones who needed to be closely guarded in society’s eyes.

So it had been suprising to you that there were not one, but two Omega drivers on the paddock this year. Yuki Tsunoda made sense, you supposed, with his slight frame and pretty features giving him away. But he certainly swore so aggressively up and down the track he’d have the commentators asking if maybe he had been assigned the wrong group. Alex Albon had been much more surprising with his very Alpha-like build - but given his quietly confident aura and gentle nature compared to the other drivers who were always aggressively arguing, it made sense looking back. And it had been even more surprising when he announced he’d found his true mate and Alpha, his girlfriend Lily.

Really, you were grateful you didn’t have the drama that came with being assigned a presentation. Even if it meant you would never have a true mate, you could live with it if you could have a shot at being world champion. But goddamn Max Verstappen, with his intense gaze and powerful aura that even you would feel tickling the back of your neck, across the paddock, would keep getting in your way. Your first P1 though, 2 months ago in Japan, you hadn’t let him win and successfully defended him off. It was the only advantage of being Unpresented - unlike the other Alphas and Omegas on the track, you were the least affected by his suffocating presence and used that to your advantage when pulling dangerous manoeuvres that vexed the Dutch driver to no end.

And he’d certainly let you know it after your first win - after a neutral indifference to you when you approached him on your first day to greet him, unlike the majority of the drivers who’d curiously flocked to the first female one. But after you took P1 from him, he claimed angrily, with dirty fucking moves, what was that overtake on the 2nd corner- you’d formed an instant dislike of him. Just because you didn’t bend to his will like everyone else?! Just because you’d won using the same move - you pointed out to him furiously - that he’d used to overtake you on the last race?

The pair of you had become quick rivals, butting heads more and more as each race went on and providing lots of great content for the media which ate it up. Sometimes Max would confuse you into thinking you were friends - occasionally murmuring helpful advice as you watched the post race highlights in the cooldown room, or shutting down sexist questions you’re repeatedly asked in the driver interviews. You’d think this was the warm, caring Max that you’d heard existed off the grid. But then you two would have some racing incident or the other and he’d be back to the fire breathing lion he usually was.

That first P1 in Japan had been bittersweet to you - because after your argument with Max, when you’d gone back to your hotel to admire your new trophy, you’d started to becoming increasingly unwell for a few days and had high fevers. You hadn’t even realised what was going on until your Beta coach banged on the door demanding to be let in, before saying you were finally presenting, 5 years late, as an Omega.

You’d been shocked and upset, of course, leading to a very traumatic first heat in a foreign country where although the desire and lust hadn’t been intense, the longing for an Alpha to comfort and protect you as you cried and whined has been so overwhelming. You had never wanted to feel anything like that again, so disempowered - so you had sworn your manager to secrecy and after a very private meeting with you, your teammate George Russell, your managers and a very concerned Toto Wolff - you’d tearfully told them what had happened. You’d expected to be dropped from the team, but they had taken one look at your distress and instantly calmed you down. Mercedes will most certainly not be dropping their very promising rookie, who had just taken P1 at her 4th ever F1 race, Toto had reassured you firmly, exuding calm confidence as he handed you a tissue. George’s large hand rubbed warm circles on your back and within a few minutes you’re laughing at jokes the two tall Alphas made to cheer you up, unable to resist the urge to protect the small Omega in front of them and using their scents to soothe you.

Regardless of how understanding your team principal had been, the fact was it would be terrible PR for you to publically present as an Omega female and risk the loss of sponsors. Given that the first heat after the presentation was notorious for being especially painful in an effort to attract a fated mate from the very start, Toto had guided you to a discreet specialist doctor to ensure the world continued to believe you were Unpresented. You’re relieved, hating the idea of being stereotyped as something delicate and pretty to be protected when you were anything but. You literally drove like a suicidal madwoman at 300km/hr for a career! So you’d promptly been started on high strength suppressors to avoid any issues with a first heat happening in the middle of a race weekend, and a couple sprays of sweet perfume later no one would be any the wiser if they picked up on any residual Omega scent that the suppressors couldn’t block.

So here you were now, celebrating your second win in Barcelona with a few of the drivers and friends at a 3 story club downtown. Although you’d been enjoying drinking and laughing with your friends, you’d been unable to stop the shivers that ran down your bare spine from your rival’s intense gaze, still simmering with anger, across the dancefloor where he was talking to Lando. You hated the way that you still felt so affected by him, by his scent that always seemed to drift over to you, always smelling more and more heady each time you saw him. And the urge to submit to him was just stupid and desperate, you thought, rolling your eyes and taking another shot. It turns out your “slutty inner omega whore” as you had not-so-fondly dubbed her, seemed more interested in having a strong Alpha’s dick inside her, instead of hating said Alpha for trying to run her off the track. Multiple times.

And tonight, the suppressants were clearly not doing their job because you couldn’t control the way you squeezed your thighs together, panties suddenly damp with the thought of an alpha like Max keeping his eyes on you - instead of the girls who had been throwing themselves at him the second he’s entered the club. You tell your inner slut who delighted in this attention to get it together, because the attention was likely murderous rage from the competitive Dutch champion at losing a race. Forcing yourself to ignore the prickles down your spine, you take another shot instead and head back to the dance floor.

Many, many drunk dances with your girlfriends later, you found yourself safely dropped off at the hotel. Pressing the button, you waited patiently for it to come down, fanning your face because you felt strangely hot in the night chill despite having left the club. And then you feel it - that heady, dominating aura that makes you want to fall to your knees. Spinning around, you see Max standing there, dressed in a rare outfit of a fitted white tee and tight pants, accentuating his broad shoulders and thick thighs. Fuck, you had forgotten Redbull was staying in the same hotel as your team this weekend.

He smirks at you, asking if you’d had a good night celebrating, because it’ll be the last win he’ll let you have this year, Princess. You despised the nickname he’s given you over the Redbull radio one race, and how it had stuck in the media too - the pretty little Mercedes princess. You give him an unimpressed glare and tell him to fuck off, Verstappen as you get in the elevator, staying right by the front with your back purposely to him. As the doors close, you can’t help but notice through the reflective wall how Max’s dark gaze unabashedly wanders down your body, enjoying the sight of your curvy, petite form dressed in a backless halter satin minidress and stiletto heels that accentuated your thick ass. Forbidden delight curls in your abdomen from the thought of an alpha as strong as Max finding you desirable. A deeper part of you - one that you would never admit to anyone - can’t deny that you desperately wanted Max to want you, having always idolised him before you joined F1. That when you’d picked out this dress you wondered if Max was going to be out tonight, if he’d see you in this outfit…and find you pretty.

And you’d never, ever admit that recently you woke up with damp thighs and lingers of a dream of being underneath a dominating blonde Alpha, his voice deep and accented as he whispered for you to take it all for me, prinses…

Again, you promptly tell your inner slut to close her mental legs - just in time as the elevator opens before both your floors to let in a large group heading to the upstairs bar.

They’re a drunk, rowdy bunch of businessmen and you’re in no mood to be felt up - and you find yourself moving beside the protective aura of Max. You scowl at how you couldn’t seem to control yourself around the taller man then find yourself surprised when he moves to cover you from their curious gazes. His wide shoulders block out their view of how enticing you look as he crowds you into one corner, his back to them. You nervously make sure you don’t stare anywhere else but straight ahead at his toned chest, your heart beating at 200bpm as the desire that’s pulsing through you being this close to him. Especially when he’s decided to look so fucking hot tonight, that intoxicating deep scent making you light headed, like luxurious velvet running down your skin, like burnt amber, smoky and woody from the embers of a winter's night fire. That wicked inner omega of yours can’t stop purring at how your scandalous choice of dress gives Max a generous view down your cleavage.

The elevator comes to a stop with a sharp jolt on the businessmen’s floor, startling you out of your thoughts and you find you’ve placed a manicured hand on Max’s toned abs to steady yourself. And as soon as you touch him - the first time you’ve ever laid hands on him, you realise later - electricity crackles in between you both. His scent becomes all the much headier to you - as if all the same flavours had suddenly become 10 times amplified. It makes you whimper and again, your body betrays you with the fresh wetness that suddenly drenches your panties.

The change in the air is instant, tension clearly palpable as you nervously peek under Max’s arm and realise the group of businessmen aren’t leaving the lift - and instead all their eyes are turned in your direction with lustful gazes. You shiver but don’t hesitate to glare at them as you tell them to get out. They don’t move, looking entranced at you, when a low, threatening rumble from Max’s chest makes it very clear that you are not to be messed with - unless they wanted to go against the strongest Alpha in a 100 mile radius. Slightly tilting his head to look back at the group, Max’s narrowed eyes and threatening aura makes them run off with their figurative tail between their legs.

The elevator closed with neat ding, moving back up, and suddenly you realised you were in a very compromising position with your rival - who had definitely noticed the very Omega-like addictive, sweet smell you were giving off as a supposed “Unpresented” female.

Verstappen- you say anxiously, frantically thinking of what to say to convince him to keep your secret. But all thoughts are cut off when Max unexpectedly leans down and buries his face into your neck, making you gasp. Your hands grab his shoulders to push him away, to ask what the fuck he thought he was doing. But the words don’t even make it out of your mouth because your head is spinning from his lips now pressing kisses against your delicate collarbones. Somehow, you’re finding yourself winding your fingers in his blonde locks, which were just as soft as they looked.

By the time the elevator reaches your floor, you’re almost falling to the ground from the sensation but Max easily supports your weight against him. He’s guiding you out of the lift and trapping you against the nearest wall - and following immediately with his hard body pressed right up against your soft one. You’re whining that he needs to stop, what is he doing, you’re in a hallway for anyone to see, but he cuts you off again with his husky voice as he breathes out that this scent, your scent, princess…fuck, I’d thought it was perfume or something but it’s all you, isn’t it? I can’t get enough of how intoxicating you are.

Tilting your head back with his strong hands, he bends down to the opposite side now and shuts up your half hearted protests by licking a line straight up the column of your throat. Oh my god, your inner omega was having the time of her life right now. Max, you murmur weakly, and he sharply inhales as your gazes meet. The dark hunger in his eyes is clear when he tells you to say that again.

And when you sweetly call his name again, he’s kissing you, still leaning against the wall in the dimly lit hallway, and you automatically moan into the passionate kiss because it feels so good, so right as his lips moved against yours with a gentleness you hadn’t expected.

But when the lift dings, signalling another arrival to your floor, Max turns to look with narrowed eyes at the potential threat and you’re reminded of how wrong wrong wrong this is and how you’d lose all your sponsors if the media found out about this scandal. So you use his second of distraction to use your small frame and slip under his arms, hastily swiping your card and slamming the door behind you when you enter.

Heart beating, you lean back against the door as your replay what just happened over and over, your hands running over your tingling lips where Max’s - your rival - has just been a second ago. Across the other side, Max leans against your door just the same. He’d let you escape his hold - for now - but he wouldn’t next time, because he knew what it meant to smell a scent so divine it made him want to destroy anything that so much as glanced in your direction. That made him lose all inhibition and pin you against a wall as he desperately resisted the urge to bury his fangs in you right there. You were his fated mate, he thinks with relief, pure joy and warmth spreading across him with the idea of having you as his mate. The one who he’d not thought he’d find at age 26 after meeting countless women. And yet here you’d been the whole time, right in front of him, the only driver who drove him so wild on the track. He'd never thought about why the pretty little Unpresented driver was able to generate such strong responses from his Alpha unusually quickly. With a backwards glance to your room where you safely hid, Max wandered away, contemplating how he was going to claim his Omega who hated him.

Meanwhile, the kiss has sent you into an absolute flurry of panic, trying to come up with ways of convincing your rival to keep your secret, having no idea why he suddenly found your scent irresistible. Your half baked plans came to an end when Max texted you the next day to meet him in the hotel lobby to talk. No fucking way, you texted back furiously, so you can get me alone and kiss me again without my permission?

You’d flown back to Monaco an hour later, ignoring Max’s replies. Clearly, he seemed as troubled by this…situation as you were, and judging by the fact you hadn’t woken up to headlines about you secretly being an Omega, it seems Max was keeping your secret - for now, at least. And you were terribly confused by how good his kiss had made you feel, even though you were furious with how he’d done it without asking, as if you belonged to him.

So you decide to ignore Max for the whole week, but when he shows up at your apartment door unexpectedly, you couldn’t hold him off. We need to talk, he’d said tersely, and that’s how you found yourself on the apartment rooftop - surprised that Max hadn’t barged his way into your apartment. In fact, he stood well away from you, leaning against the railing and looking out towards the setting Monaco sun over the pristine Mediterranean waters as you watched his back uncertainly. Just when you were going to ask him what he wanted, he began telling you the story of how his Alpha father, Jos, had claimed his Omega mother, Sophie before she had been ready. You tilted your head, confused. You were very familiar with that particular media scandal - where Jos had deliberately performed the claiming, the ancient ritualistic tradition of an Alpha marking an Omega as theirs - in the peak of Sophie’s career, and had illegally used their mating bond to manipulate her into early retirement and focus on the family instead. It left a bitter taste in your mouth, of how no court or laws could protect an Omega fully from the abuse of a controlling Alpha.

I- I know about your parent’s story, it was quite…anyways, why are you bringing it up now? Max didn’t answer your question, turning around instead to face you. You felt that same fluttering beating of your heart as his intense blue gaze locked in on your doe eyed brown one. After she was able to get the divorce, he continued, she finally found her true mate. And she told me about the difference she’d felt, in how my father and her mate had treated her, how one had made her into the wife he wanted and the other had protected her as she chose to life she wanted for herself.

You’re truly confused now about why he’s still on this topic, and tell him that you’d even spoken with his mother when you began racing about her advice as a female on the track, and you’d expressed your sympathies for how hard it must have been to have her career tarnished so early by an abusive Alpha. Being her son was one of the few things you actually respected about him. Thinking he was foreshadowing what he was going to ask of you, your scent became sour with anger. So, out with it, Verstappen, you demanded, what’s your blackmail plan, I know you know about me being an Omega, are you going to make me promise not to try for P1 because you can forget it-

Max cut you off then, stepping forward and making you tilt your head back to look up at him. You wanted to step back so desperately, knowing what happened last time he was so close - but that inner omega vixen of yours was far too satisfied with the reassuring, soft spicy scent Max was now gently emitting. You hadn’t even known he was capable of anything other than the intense scent he used to dominate on the track.

No, schat, Max says softly. I’m not going to tell anyone anything you don’t want shared. Or use it against you. I wanted to tell you my parents story…to show you my father is the kind of Alpha I don’t want to become. I don’t want anyone to go through what my mother did. You can literally feel your body relaxing from his reassuring words, with the way he had called you darling in Dutch for the first time, from his soft look and scent. And it pisses you off to no end, that he can use his biology to make you feel like this - you’d had no idea the effect from an Alpha could be this strong on you. You realize you’ve involuntarily said that out loud when he tells you it isn’t normal for you to react this intensely to an Alpha, but it’s because it’s him that you’re reacting to. At your perplexed look, he’s reminded that your parents are both Betas and you had very limited knowledge of presentations, compared to his own family which were exclusively Alpha-Omega mates for generations.

Because…because we’re rivals? You ask, those sweet doe eyes of yours blinking up at him and making the urge to protect you bloom deep in his chest. Unfortunately for his inner alpha, he was about to cause you a lot of distress with his next words.

Because - Max swallowed, because, schat, we’re true mates. I’m your Alpha, if you’ll have me.

The distress that comes off you is instant and makes Max want to jump off the balcony railing, if it means ending your despair. You’re stammering out your shock, confusion, and then just straight denial at his claim, insisting it can’t be true - but he watches you with an apologetic expression, only speaking after a long time once you’ve let out all your conflicting emotions. He softly explains why it was true, that you might not know because your own parents weren’t a true match but what happened in the elevator, the reaction to each other’s scents - it was the first step to prime you two for the claiming.

He can see the colour drain from your face, flushed caramel skin now going pale as your distress turns to pure rage, steeped with fear - of him, Max realises. So that's why you're pretending to be so nice, isn't it? you question hotly, so that I say yes to your claiming just for you to use it order me to leave racing? And you'll act like its so different to your parents-

Max can't bear this foreign pain in his chest any longer, each furious word from you twisting a knife into his heart. His inner alpha is screaming at him to comfort and console you, so he does just that by stepping forward again and taking your small form into his large arms, forming a secure hold around you. Your annoyed shriek is muffled against his toned chest, but after a few seconds you calm down once he says, sounding so unusually desperate, he will never do the claiming until you ask him too, even if that's well after your racing career finishes. You pause, hearing the genuine sincerity in his words, and somehow deep within you a sense tells you that Max is telling the truth. As his warm, large hands soothingly rub circles on your back, you find yourself closing your eyes and lean into him, your french manicured hands pressing against his firm muscles and hearing his strong heartbeat through his chest.

You stay like that for a long time, slowly processing everything he's told you, until the sunset disappears over the Monaco horizon and the bright city lights emerge. At some point his arms have wrapped around your soft waist, one hand firmly on your hip and the other cradling your head against him, softly stroking your dark curls. If anyone had told you a month ago that you'd find yourself in this position with goddamn Max Verstappen you'd have laughed them off the track. But here you are, your inner omega purring with satisfaction at the secure embrace of your strong Alpha. You find yourself returning his comforting embrace by tentatively moving your small palms up over his pecs and across his ridiculously broad shoulders, looping around his wide neck. You hear Max's breathing hitch as he feels your shy touch, and then he’s hit with your delicious scent as your new position exposes your neck. It's the same as in the lift - so sweet, like exotic Indian jasmine on a hot summer night, like burnt sticky vanilla in the stroopwafels he adored as a kid, on the rare days he was allowed to go to the park instead of karting. But this time, your scent is even more inviting as your desire for him is stronger, and he doesn't fight his instincts and buries his face into your delicate neck again. He inhales deeply and leaves you gasping when he starts leaving lazy, soft kisses in the hollow of your throat. This time, you can't bring yourself to pull away, your fingers gently threading into his hair as you tentatively call out V-Verstappen, this is-

That's not my name, prinses he rumbles lowly, Dutch accent slipping through as he continues moving up your neck, leaving hickeys with flicks of his tongue and gentle, teasing nips of his sharp fangs - teasing, but not puncturing your tantalising caramel skin. And when you sweetly moan Max for him, looking up at him with those wide brown doe eyes, heady with desire, and a pretty red flush across your full cheeks, he meets your plush lips with his own. There's no hesitation this time, your fingers tangling into his messy blonde locks as you kiss deeply. His large hands running across your body make you feel like you're on fire. And when he grabs a hold of your thick ass, squeezing it like he owned it and and pulling you even closer to him, you're gasping and moaning sweetly into his mouth. He doesn't hesitate to slide inside your parted lips, completely dominating the kiss as he easily takes control over your tongue despite your efforts to battle against his.

Max, this is so wrong you say breathlessly, eyes fluttering closed in pleasure as his large thigh parts yours, your skirt sliding up as thick muscles come into contact with your aching core. You're certain he's going to be able to feel the wetness rapidly pooling between your own legs. Then why does it feel so right, prinses? He cockily responds, squeezing your ass greedily again and moaning himself when you start grinding against his leg, your wetness dripping past your soaked panties and ruining his pants. Fuck, he was never going to take these off, so he would always have the intoxicating scent of how sweet you smelled when you were so desperate for him, hmm?

The harsh ringing of your phone you'd set on a nearby table startles you. Max ignores it, flexing his thighs up against you to tempt your self control again as your inner Omega begs you to let the Alpha - your Alpha - claim you right here, right now, for all the world to see. But through the haze you see your boss's face flash on the screen and suddenly you're reminded of what's at stake. Snapping to your senses, you stumble away from Max's strong hold, making him growl in annoyance as he reluctantly releases you from his arms. This is why I didn't want to talk, you hiss at him, but he can tell from your scent you’re more conflicted than angry. Because you- you cutely flush, -we can't control ourselves for more than 5 minutes without something like this happening. You gesture to the space between you two as he watches you inquisitively, taking in every small movement with a tilt of his head like he was a lion stalking a deer. Stay away from me from now on, Verstappen you say with a scowl on your pretty face, pointing right at him, his sharp blue eyes not missing the slight tremor that gives away how affected you feel by him. I need to focus on winning this championship and not your…slutty Alpha seduction techniques.

He lets you go, smirking as you practically sprint away down the stairs to avoid any further temptation, enjoying the view of your generous ass from behind. Using his thumb to brush the dampness you left on his pants, he licks it away, chest lowly rumbling in approval as he confirms you’ll taste just as sweet as you looked, as you smelled. Next time, he promises his disgruntled inner Alpha.

After all, it was only a matter of time before he claimed you - it was a question of when, not if. The dark, controlling parts of him wanted to lay his claim on you right now, knowing that you desired him and would be unable to resist if he wanted to have his way with you. But you’d be so much sweeter, more pliable, more eager for him if he waited until you came begging.

He’d have his fun in the meantime.