#but i still believe that they would enjoy talking shit to each other and stirring up trouble whenever they spend time together

[desertsunoversea]

One of my favorite moments reading acftl was finding out that Jacks' curse was that only people who would never fall in love with Jacks would stay alive, because

It holds interesting connotations in the reason why the curse was broken this time. In the book, Evangeline "wondered if some of the girls had truly loved him. If there had been ones who had believed, just like she did, that their love could be enough to save him, to break their curse. But it never was." With each person who was killed, his belief that his curse would break lessened, until he began using the kiss as a death sentence(like in Legendary) because that's what he now thought it was. So for the curse to break in acftl, we know that he believed in his love for Evangeline as much as she believed in her love for him. While I think that this is pretty interesting on its own, I also loved this piece of information because

It means that Tella was immune to the curse because she would never see Jacks in a romantic light, which is one of the headcanons I have had for the caraval series. I personally don't enjoy love triangles in general, but when I read the Caraval series I never felt like there was one between Tella, Jacks, and Legend. I never expected this theory to be confirmed, so that felt pretty satisfying to me.

[theblueflower05]

Fxtavang(passionate) | Part One

A/N: So this is the accumulation of multiple different ideas that I’ve had cooking since December- I somehow managed to roll them into one giant clusterfuck. Enemies to lovers(ish), A/B/O, Warrior! Reader. All of it. I hope ya'll enjoy the filth.

Word Count: 10 k+

Warnings: Talks of secondary Gender. Sexual tension. Alien Sex. Alien Genetalia. Bottom Neteyam. Subby Neteyam. Femdom. Oral sex(male recieving) Fingering(male receiving)

Summary: Neteyam can't stand you. Or at least that’s what he tells everyone else. It's getting harder to force himself to believe the lie. Omega Neteyam x Alpha! Female! Reader

Series Masterlist

Part Two>

We do not exist in

Any other instant

Here in this dimension

You and I are meant to be- Stay Ready(What a Life) Jhene Aiko, Kendrick Lamar

Life in Awa’atlu starts early, even before the rays of the sun touch the crystalline waves, the village is stirring with life. Fishermen casting their nets, sails being pulled taut. The fkio(bird-like creatures) caterwaul between each other in the Sherbert sky; the only sounds piercing the still quiet of the morning eclipse.

Neteyam had thought the forest awoke early, but no. It was no comparison to Island. The ocean never slept; the waves consistent in their movement. Rhythmic like a beating heart. He still hasn't quite gotten used to it.

This particular morning was no different.

He awoke in his corner of the family Mauri, rubbing at his sleep crusted eyes. His siblings were still asleep, tucked soundly in their blankets. His mother is molasses slow, only his father truly awake. “Too many years in the military” Jake had always claimed. He could never sleep much at all- was the first up and the last down.

Jake offers a molded clay cup full of strong, dark violet leaf tea to him, as he does everyday. Brews a pot for the family as soon as he awakes. All of his children are caffeine addicts, much to Neytiri’s chagrin.

Neteyam grumbles his gratefulness before taking it and chugging at the bitter contents. Needing the energizing boost before he starts his daily duties.

“Tonowari’s girl still riding you hard?” Jake wonders and Neteyam almost spits out his tea at the mental image it conjures.

The vulgar dreams he had just woken from.

How he wishes that you were riding him. Hard as you could. As often as possible.

He doesn't tell his father that of course, instead keeps it easy and casual. The older man is a soldier through and through and training is one of his favorite topics to discuss.

“Y/N’s not an easy mentor, no. But I enjoy the fact that she doesnt baby me”

“Yeah, she wouldn't. Her dad’s Omega, they’re not held back with kiddie gloves here. I just wanna make sure she’s not being too hard on you. I know that you didn't get along with her when we first got here-” Jake is working on repairing Tuk’s tweng, the kid is growing so fast these days. He’s not watching his eldest son's face, if he could he’d be able to see the deception clear as day on Neteyam’s expression.

“She’s fine. Our sessions are almost over. I can't say that I’ll miss them much.”

Lie. Biggest fattest lie. The words taste acidic in his mouth.

“Yeah, her and that brother of hers have an attitude, that’s for sure. Make sure to stay on her good side. She’ll be the next chief” Jake gives his eldest a pointed look and Neteyam nods.

Yes sir, noted.

Neteyam completes his morning tasks quickly. Makes sure his bed roll is tucked away, that the loincloth he selects for the day is clean and the leather straps are secured tightly. His face is washed, and braids are neat- desperately in need of maintenance, but neat. He wonders if Kiri would fix them for him, the process of it is long and grueling and she did only sort him out weeks ago-

But the saltwater is rough on his hair. He wonders if it will ever acclimate.

Lo’ak would give him shit if he was awake- not that that skxwng was ever up before the horn for communal breakfast was sounded. His little brother liked to tease Neteyam about his vanity-

“We get it. You’re pretty, bro. Why don't you put on some lipstick while you’re at it”

It had caused many a scuffle between the two, and usually ended with Neteyam pinning the younger to the ground, face down, demanding that he took it back. Lo’aks arm’s bent behind his back at precarious angles- not released until he groveled for mercy.

It was no secret that Neteyam could be…prickly about his secondary gender. It wasn't that he was ashamed of his designation, no. There was no shame in being an Omega. It was all of the stupid societal stigmas that came with it. Omegas are supposed to be soft and docile. Family oriented and submissive-

Neteyam had rebelled against it for as long as he could remember. He wasn't going to sit at home and weave blankets(although his weaving skills were admittedly par excellence). From the moment he could get his hands on a bow, he knew what his role in the clan would be.

Hunter. Warrior. Protector. Future Olo’eyktan.

He’d fought, tooth and nail, against any doubts that were thrown his way.

Dubbed the youngest Omiticaya to ever make a clean kill, his prowess on ikran back unmatched. His Iknimaya had almost been uneventful, for he’d completed any tasks thrown at him with the ease that even some twice his age didn't possess. Then, when the humans came back, resuming their reign of terror on the planet of Pandora, he’d shocked everyone again. War was not easy, but battle strategy was something that came naturally to Neteyam- he was dangerous. A weapon made of flesh gliding amongst the clouds.

All of that seemed so futile now.

Having to start fresh was painfully unfair.

It meant having to work twice as hard as any Beta or Alpha, again, to prove his worth.

He tried not to be too bitter about it, the vicious uprooting from The Forest was something that would sit in his belly like stones forever, but he couldn't dwell on it if he wanted to build a life for himself here.

“Neteyam, shouldn't you be ;eavomg soon?” Neytiri’s soft, accented voice breaks him out of his thoughts “The dawn has broken, you’ll be late for training.”

Fuck.

He snatches up his borrowed spear in a flurry of movement, eager to get down to the beach, He can't be late again.

“Eat something first, Ma ‘Itan! Where will your strength come from? I’ll make you a meal” She insists, pan searing a slab of meat from a recent hunt. Her eyes are sharp and usually he wouldn't deny her.

He’s always gone these days, before the sun fully shines. Back when the sky has broken out into stars. Keen to be on his way.

More preoccupied with training then anything else.

“I will grab something on the way, do not worry. Be back before evening eclipse, promise!” He slips, lithe and easy, out of the Mauri. Ignoring his mother's protesting hisses and his father's low chuckle.

As much as the parental love was appreciated- he always has to bite his tongue. He’s not a child, he’s nearly twenty for Christ's sake.

The netted pathways that interconnect the village had once confused him, but now he walks them surely. Knowing he wont get lost as he had in the past. Almost no one gawk's at him anymore which is admittedly nice. He’ll never quite fit in, dark indigo in a sea of teal, but he’s a familiar oddity now. Mothers no longer pull their children away when the Sully’s pass, and he even gets a few off handed waves.

He supposes it’s probably your doing.

He’d never forget the day he’d watch you tackle a warrior twice your size to the ground, your blade gleaming dangerously as you pressed it against his throat. “They are our people now! Why do you mock your own, you ignorant swine. Do you need me to teach you the meaning of Uturu? Or should I find my father and let him know that you disregard the word of Olo’eyktan?”

Neteyam’s stomach flops as he thinks back on the memory, on the look in your eyes. On the efficiency in which you commanded respect.

He both hated and admired it about you. That spitfire attitude and silver tongue.

Alpha’s like you have always turned him off; too loud and obnoxious for his taste. When you’d first met admittedly, he’d turned up his nose. Uninterested in the Alpha daughter of Olo’eyktan Tonowari and Tsahik Ronal. Even during group training, he was polite but obviously uninterested in forming any kind of friendship with you.

When you’d offered him one on one’s he’d almost declined. Only the promise of teaching him the ways of the reef warriors kept him from saying no. You’d help him pass his Metkayinan Iknimaya, that was the only reason he’s spending so much time with you.

That’s what he tells everyone.

And definitely what he tells himself.

Because surely Neteyam can't admit that he awakes in the morning over eager to see your pretty face.

That he sneaks away at night to hide among the tall overgrown palms behind the village. Biting his lips bloody as he plays with his slit until his hard cock slips free from the protection of his body…the whole time he brings himself closer to that pleasured edge all he can think about is you. Chokes on your name as he comes all over his own hands.

He forces all of that down.

He’s always been good at pretending that he doesn't have room for feelings, and between the spray of bullets and the pressure of becoming the future leader of his clan, that had been his truth. There had been no time for courting, much less mating, back home. Yeah, since he’d noticed his affinity for female Alpha’s he’d been attracted to many Omiticayan women- but nothing like this.

You’d wormed your way under his skin.

He has a terrible crush on you.

You’re waiting for him on the beach, at the edge of the village. Peeling apart pieces of a fruit, eating distractedly. When your eyes land on him they brighten with interest.

You’re gorgeous, though not at all what he was used to when it came to Alpha women.

The ones back home were tall and hard. Their beauty almost severe. At the other end of the spectrum lies you. Short and thick, your shoulders and hips wide. Your body built for the waves, the layer of blubber giving you a softness that fascinated him to no end. Your face is extremely similar to that of both your mother and sister Tsireya, features delicate and feminine. Full cheeks, plush lips and giant green eyes.

You could pass for an Omega yourself, if it wasn't for that cocksure way that you held yourself and your distinctly Alpha scent. Potent and musky. He wants to sample it from the source, press his nose against one of your scent glands. The one in your neck. Or maybe the one in your inner thigh, right between your legs-

“Good morning” he greets good naturedly as approaches. Neutral. Like you don't send him into pre-heat every time you’re around him.

You huff a little, rolling your eyes. Expression bored. Your resting bitch face rivals your mothers. “Mhmm. You’re late, again.”

“I-uh I apologize. We can train longer into the evening, to make up for it, if you wanted to” He doesn't like making excuses, but he can't exactly tell you that he was up all-night think about how well you’d fuck him. “I didn't mean to waste your time.”

You're silent for a moment, appraising him. He catches you doing it all the time, but it never gets any less nerve wrecking.-

You’d been a lot more lenient with him lately, the months of getting to know each other softening you, but still. He probably pissed you off. He needed to get it together, you were taking the time out of your busy schedule to take care of him. He’s about to tailspin into more frantic apologies when he notices your shoulders shaking.

A smile breaks across your pretty face, fangs sharp. Coy and playful- your true nature coming to the surface.

“I'm just teasing!” you laugh, eyes rolling “Come on, Tey. We spend nearly every day together and you still can't tell when I’m playing with you?”

The worst part about Neteyam’s not so little crush?

He’s pretty sure you’re aware of it.

“Ha-ha very funny Y/N. I’m barley awake, give me a fucking break” Neteyam drawls back, as he makes a start for the small sailboat that's tied to the docs.

You’d taught him how to sail early in your training, he enjoys it. It’s all muscle memory, learned skill that he’d honed after days full of island hopping. Hunting in the shallows and the deep alike, coming back with abundant hauls for the people. He wouldn't even be allowed outside the reef without you.

“Did you eat breakfast today?” You inquire, and his hands freeze mid knot.

“Not really, but I figured I’d catch something. It’s fine-”

“Here. No wonder you forest people are so damn skinny, you never eat!” you offer him the other half of the large fruit that you’d peeled. It's a simple gesture. You do it without even thinking much of it.

“Irayo ”Neteyam is sure that he’ll think about it non-stop. He takes a big bite of the sweet fruit, if only to hide his warm cheeks for a moment.

“I thought we’d work more with the Tsurak’s today. You mastered the bond, but your riding underwater still rough” You chatter mindlessly while he desperately tries not to stare at the side of your face. At the gorgeous intertwining ink of the tattoos that swirl around your cheekbone.

He’s so fucked.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The open ocean is unforgiving. There's no cover from the blistering sun as there was in the forest, no shade to hide behind. Just the wide expanse of never ending blue.

Training with you is intense. Long hours bleed away as you mold him into perfection. Correcting his form, teaching him how to move with the crests of the waves instead of against them. Tsurak riding is different from Ikran. It's more physical, he has to use every part of his body to control the squawking beast. By the end of the long day his muscles are screaming in protest.

You call it after he hits the water at an odd angle, completely knocking the breath out of himself. He can't even protest too much, instead gasping for air to refill his tired lungs.

“That was the last one, come. We’re done for the day, let's go find somewhere to do our decompressions”

There are endless islands that dot the Eastern Seaboard of Pandora. Some large with dense flora and fauna, others small barely there things that get swept away with the changing tides.

With your guideship the two of you make port on one of the smaller ones. On decent sized white sand beach with a tree line full of fruit trees. He's more than happy to plop down on the soft ground, watching as you secure the boat, throwing his arm over his head to block out the bright sun,

“Get your lazy ass up” you command him with a smile.

He groans in protest, not removing his arm.

“Build us a fire, maybe gather some fruit. Those are Yovo trees- I’m going to go hunt us some lunch” You continue not at all phased by his dramatics.

His head perks up at that, ears swiveling as he gives you a pointed look “I can hunt for myself, you know.”

He doesn't want you to think he’s useless, that he’s a needy Omega who needs an Alpha to feed him or else he’ll starve.

“I know” you respond simply. Easily. It wasn't even on your mind. “You can build fires faster than I can and those fruit are high in the trees. You know I’m shit at climbing.”

You’re not afraid to say it; that he's better at certain things. Your designation usually comes with a supersized ego. Alpha’s can do no wrong, or so they think.

It’s refreshing. Being around you is so different from anything he’s ever known.

“You’re right, your absolute shit. Go get us some lunch, I'll do the climbing so that you don't break your neck” He grumbles as he sits up and you pat his head fondly as you pass.

He can't help but watch as you go back to the water, spear in hand. The ever seductive swing of your hips. The way your wide tail sways. His fingers clench with their need to touch. He decides to put them to use elsewhere and starts on getting a fire going.

After training you always make sure the two of you decompress. It’s an important part of the day. At first it had been an oddity to him- that you were willing to waste anymore of your time on him. An hour or two of eating, and meditating. Working on breathing techniques and weaving Metkayina lore.

The closer the two of you had become, the more he looked forward to this part of the day. It felt sacred and he reveled in the intimacy of it all.

He debones and grills the succulent fish that you caught over the flames and you prepare the fruits, skinning them and cutting them up nice and small. It’s grossly domestic. He wonders if this is what life would be like with you in your Mauri. Every hour of everyday a little piece of bliss just like this.

He forces those feelings away. Or at least tries to.

The late lunch you share is delicious and Neteyam feels heavy and sated after it. You let him laze like a cat while he digests.

“Neteyam!” you suck your teeth, disapprovingly as you look over him.

“Hmm?” His yellow eyes search yours, following your line of sight. The side of his body is covered in tiny bleeding little cuts, rubbed raw and more annoying than painful. He’d had far worse. “Oh that? It’s fine, I hit the coral a couple times when I fell off Xtrala. No big deal”

The female Tsurak he’d bonded with had a bit of a wind streak. He didn’t mind, he enjoyed the challenge.

You flash your canines at him as you hiss in displeasure, reaching for your satchel. “No big deal, huh? Most of the coral out here is poisonous, you idiot. Do you not listen to a single thing I say?”

You rummage around in the bag, pulling out a jar of thick pale yellow paste. Your mother's creation, he assumes.

“They barely even sting” he insists, trying to keep the cool, calm and collected front going. You ignore him of course and dip your fingers in the mixture.

“If we don't get this on them they’ll get infected. Then my parents will give me flack for letting you get such a stupid injury” you gesture for him to come closer, to scootch right into your personal space “Come here”

Isn't it pathetic how fast he does?

Instantly maneuvering his body right to yours the moment you ask. You're sitting crisscrossed, and he falls in until his shins are almost touching your own.

You tut, eyes rolling as your hands go to his shoulders, pushing him to lie down before turning him on his side, the scratches facing up and towards you as you lean in close to inspect them. Its casual dominance, man handling him in the most gentle way.

His heartbeat starts to flutter in his throat. His tail swaying eagerly behind him, completely out of his control.

You're efficient with your fingers, smearing the concoction in a thick layer over his marred skin. It's supposed to be completely medical, friendly. Platonic.

To him it's anything but.

He can't tell if the tingles erupting all over the his skin is from the numbing effect of the cream or from you being so close to him.

“Your mom teach you how to do this?” Neteyam’s voice is low, like he doesn't want to break your concentration. That cute little crease between your brows doesn't falter, your nose scrunched up as you attend to him.

He wants to be the object of your attention like this all the time. It feels so good to have you fretting over him and only him.

“Mhmm, a good Olo’eykte knows a bit of everything. Healing has always been my sister's forte, but I can do a small amount of it here and there” you hum, your voice so sweet.

He wonders if the rest of the clan knows how soft you can be. You are the daughter of the chief, the next leader yourself. You don't let your guard down like this when the two of you are back in the village. Never, all those months ago when him and his family had arrived, would he have expected to be blessed enough to be let into your inner circle. Trusted enough to see you as you truly are.

Its hypnotic, your caring eyes. The way that you dote on him. He falls under some kind of a trance, pushing his body more into your hands. Becoming putty like as you run the tips of your fingers all over-

They stray away from his side, sprawled over his ribs. Tracing the hard lines of his strong abdominals, his sternum. Exploring with firm massaging touch. Both of your breaths hitch when you run your thumb nail over his pert nipple-

“Neteyam” you whisper, desperation laced. Your gnawing on your full bottom lip and staring down at him as though he’s one of the ocean deities you loved to talk about so much.

“You were taught well. You’re making me feel so good” He encourages you, leaning even closer, his head resting against your knee, his breath fanning against your strong calf.

This position isn't new for the two of you.

It's been happening for weeks.

You find any excuse to touch him; and he finds any to let you.

You’d always been hands on during training but your touch had started lingering on his broad shoulders, skimming down his waist. Holding him just for the sake of it- claiming you were correcting his form when really you just wanted an excuse to squeeze his supple flesh in your palms. Most days he returned to the village shivery and disoriented, throbbing between his legs.

“I make you feel good?” you inquire, a smirk marring your features. You look like your little brother. A mirror of Ao’nung. Same small mole above your lip and all.

Neteyam scoffs, turning his head before he replies “I think you know exactly how you make me feel. It’s not really fair”

He can't look at you while he speaks, instead he stares at the sky. It's getting late in the day, you’ll need to head back soon if you want to make it back to the big island before the eclipse.

“Look at me, Forest boy” you call for him, and he stubbornly keeps his gaze avoided.

He’s still pressed so close that he can feel your body warmth, your small fingers have stopped dancing along his torso. Have settled on the center of his chest, tracing mindless patterns into his dark skin.

“It’s just cruel; I know it doesn't mean anything. You don't have to worry about me getting…confused or anything” he continues, “I’ve seen you flirt with everyone like this. I know I’m not special…so you should stop distracting me”

“It’s actually you who’s distracting me. How am I supposed to get anything done when you’re so gorgeous? I promise there is no one else on the Big Island that I think is even a fraction of how special you are” it's a saccharine croon and he hisses at it. Stupid Alphas and their flirty nature. It’s maddening.

“Just on the Big Island?” comes a muttered response, low under his breath.

You giggle “Has anyone ever told you that you’re extremely dramatic?”

He sputters, eyes finally meeting yours. Challenge burning in is golden orbs “Why do you say that? Because I’m an Omega?”

A bit of the mirth leaves you, your hand sliding up to cup his cheek. Cupping it firmly, meaningfully, before you speak.

“The only one who really cares about your designation here is you. How many times have I told you that it doesn't matter to me?”

He chews it over. Your words are sincere, or at least he thinks they are. But the long decades of fighting against his inner nature won't be broken down in a matter of what? A few months with a pretty Alpha who spins pretty words?

Your tumb runs along the delicate skin under his eye before you pull away with a sigh. He chases your touch, just a little. Upset with himself and his treacherous mouth that had made you pull away.

“I know that the Omiticaya are more traditional- and I respect that. Really. But here being an Omega does not mean anything less. You are no less a warrior.No less clans member, No less a man. My father is the greatest Olo’eyktan we Metkayina have ever seen, no one undermines him just because he is Omegan. He is beloved by all” There's a fire that burns inside of you, a constant simmer. It reflects in your eyes when you speak of things your passionate about.

Your favorite hunting spear passed down from your Grandmother. Your family. Your Tulkun spirit sister that he’s yet to meet.

And him.

That passion burns bright when you talk about him.

“If anyone disrespects you, I'll slit their throats, Neteyam. You know I would” You whisper conspiratorially. The cherry on top of it all.

Is it horrible that it’s that statement that turns him on the most?

Maybe because he believes it. You’d take care of him, wouldn't you? Isn't that what you’d been trying to do since he and his family arrived?

That day you’d tackled that knothead in the middle of the village, demanding that he treat the Sullys with decency. The timbre of your screams as you berated your baby brother for leaving Lo’ak beyond the reef. Your encouraging nature, the cheers you give him and his siblings when they accomplish any small Metkayinan lesson

“Let’s not get hasty and commit murder” Neteyam starts, scared shitless. Because if you’re yanking his chain, it will hurt something fierce. He wants to let you in, if just a little “I’m still getting used to the fact that I don't have to fight so hard for respect here. I get really in my head about it sometimes,”

“No shit”

“Hey. I'm trying to thank you. For giving me some perspective”

“Hmm. Try harder, Forest boy”

Theres a moment of stillness before Neteyam reaches out slowly and grabs your hand, the one that had retreated, and places it back on his skin. Your warm palm against the smooth planes of his pec once more feels so nice.

He’s not good with his words, they get jumbled. Always had. He’d get nervous and anything he’d meant to say would come out odd and skewed. He hadn't had many real friends back in the jungle for this very reason. His awkwardness could easily be mistaken for standoffishness.

He hopes his body language is better.

You resume your exploration as though he’d never stopped you. Your fingers assaulting him once more. Slow this time. Savoring it, as though you’re scared, he’ll push you away once more- even though it’s quite the opposite really. He wants your touch back on his nipple, the nub still hard and pulsing for attention. Or maybe you’ll be bold, as usual, and trail lower…

Your fingers grasp at his jaw instead, holding his head still and at just the right angle before you lean down, so close the flat of your nose runs against his own. He prepares for your kiss, his eyes sliding closed and his lips pursing in obvious offering. He cant help but hold his breath-

The kisses he’d had in the past were messy and inexperienced, hurried and left him feeling jipped and confused.

Your mouth presses to his, moist and plush. The kiss is slow, your lips brushing his in soft little bursts, sending jolts of electricity down his spine, the possessive grip you have on his jaw unwavering. When your tongue swipes at his upper lip at the same time that you tighten your grip- his little sighs are something he can’t control. You taste good as you dominate his mouth, unhurried as you steal the air from his lungs.

Giving him just a moment to catch his breath, to push you away if he pleased, you lick at his semi chapped bottom lip, before going back in for more.

The two of you get lost in each other.

His well-built arms twine around your neck, pulling you closer, tugging you down on top of him. All that warm sun baked teal skin on his feels so nice, he hums little sounds of appreciation in between the wet smacks. Your hands aren't still for more than a few seconds at a time, they’re everywhere. Too much uncharted territory to map out. Leaving hot scorching trails all over his body. Greedy, like you can't get enough of the muscle and sinew under your fingers. When you reach for the leather straps of his tweng, he gasps, but raises his hips anyway. Fully intending on helping you get it off of him-

The com, ever present around his neck, crackles to staticky life.

“Devil Dog to Pathfinder, you read me? Over.” Neteyams fathers electronic voice breaks him from his reverie, and with a heavy sigh, he pulls away.

You grunt, moving from his mouth down the hinge of his shap jaw, nipping at the hypersensitive place behind his ear-

He can barely breathe. His head’s spinning. He’s torn, knows he needs to recompose himself enough to reply to his dad and he can't do that when you’re licking at the place behind his braids- and yet he has his hands twined in your hair. Pressing you closer. His thighs falling open, letting you slip a firm leg between them-

“Pathfinder, do you read me? Over.”

“Ugh” You groan, wrenching yourself from him, and he mourns the loss of your scorching body heat instantaneously. The breeze that runs along his form once your sticky skin leaves his makes him shiver.

His chest is heaving erratically, and he wonders if he looks as out of control as he feels. Lips swollen and spit slick and golden eyes low and fluttery.

“Answer your dad” you command, voice husky and he reaches for you again. You avoid his grabby hands, backing up on your knees with a strained giggle “Answer your dad before I spread your legs and fuck you right here, Neteyam. I’m serious”

He chokes on a groan, his teeth gritting at your vulgar words. He wants it so desperately. His cock is hard under his loincloth, he can feel it poking out from his slit. It would be so easy for you to pull it out and sit on it. His eyes slam closed, no longer able to even look at you if he has any chance of calming down.

Rotting flesh. Blown ear drums from explosions. His grandma.

He thinks of unpleasant things to get his erection to go down and wills all of his blood to stop rushing south . Musters all of the composure he can before he presses his fingers to the device on his throat and replies. “Pathfinder to Devil Dog. I read you. What do you need? Over”

“Your mom wants you to come home, she spotted a small herd of Yerik on her flight. We’re hunting tonight. Over”

Fucking hell. It’s not fair.

“On my way. Over” Neteyam wants to stay on this secluded little island with you forever. Wants to throw his com into the ocean. Instead he assures his family that he’ll be home soon.

“See ya soon, son. You sound winded. Make sure to stay hydrated. Over”

Your laughter is chiming at that last bit and Neteyam cant help but crack a smile of his own.

When he can breathe semi normally and take in his surroundings, he realizes just how much time had passed. The sky is starting to streak with darkness, the sea choppier as the nightly tide starts to roll in.

“Come on, Pathfinder. I better get you home” You taunt as you start to stand and Neteyam knows his face falls, the frown that pulls on his lips deep. He can't believe that he finally got to kiss you- and that somehow, as usual, his family stood in the way. He’d been cockblocked by his dad for fucks sake.

“I’ll never understand that blasted tawtute(human, derogatory) sorcery” You grumble, eyeing his neck suspiciously and Neteyam reaches up to run his fingers along the choker like com.

“It’s not socery, Y/N. its tech. It comes in handy…sometimes ”Not now, not when he’d finally had your tongue down his throat and your body on top of his.

“Hmm. If you say so. Let’s head out, I’d hate to face the wrath of Toruk Makto” you reach out your dainty hand, helping pull him up with a smile. Your body is small but compact, far stronger than it appears. You pull him up with ease before fretting over his skewed braids.

He tries not to preen under the attention. It feels so innocent after the way that you had been touching him just moments ago-

“Ugh. Y/N. What are you-?” He hisses as you reach between his thighs and grab his flagging bulge firmly. He’s still hot and pulsing there and the surprise pang of pleasure is almost painful.

“This is mine, huh? All because of me?” you look up at him with that smirk of yours. He can only nod, not trusting his voice. Shocked at the blatant claim that you’re lying on him.

You massage the tweng covered flesh between his legs and Neteyam just winces, his hands coming to rest on your shoulders. He doesn't know if he’s going to push you away or pull you in again.

You don't say anything for a long moment, just stare into his eyes as you stroke him back to nearly full hardness before abruptly stopping. “Can I be blunt?”

He almost splutters. How much blunter can you be? You’re literally holding him by the most sensitive, secretive part of himself “Um, yes?”

“I will help you pass your Iknimaya, and then I want to court you. I can't start the courting until your rebirth from the oceans. Would that be okay with you? Because from the way you feel in my hand, I think it’s okay”

What?

Court him?

But you’re going to be the next clan leader and he’s some outsider from halfway across Pandora-

“Y/N-”

“Mmm. No. I don't want one of your lectures or for you to go into big brother mode on me. I’m simply letting you know my intentions. I’m going to shower you in gifts and knot you until you let that great big chip on your shoulders go” You promise. It’s a simple one, or at least that’s how you make it sound. He knows better. He should know better.

And yet the very idea of wearing pretty jewelry you’d crafted for him or being knotted and locked inside your tight pussy is enough to have releasing of all sense of rationality.

Neteyam can feel his ears burn and lie close to his head with embarrassment, completely flustered. “You're too much” he tries to laugh it off but that intensity about you makes his skin crawl.

“Stop pretending like you don’t enjoy it” you taunt before letting go of his hardness and bringing the warm hand up to pat at his cheek, almost condescendingly. “Get freshened up and help me cast the sails. I’ll have you back before the eclipse. I’d hate to face the wrath of Toruk Makto”

His head feels heavy and he can't quite break out of the haze you’d put him in.

He follows you like a viperwolf pup.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The daze doesn't let up.

Weeks go by and his heart can barely take it.

You do exactly what you said you would; continue to prep him for his rites, you're training more vigorous than ever. His shoulders were broader than ever, leading to a tapered waist, his form agile and efficient in the water. He’d all but mastered riding

You also shower him in gifts; ones that leave his eyes wet with grateful tears. An intricately crafted armband that drips with multicolored sea glass and looks like it took ages to make. Baskets of Melon Tree fruit and beautifully weaved blankets. His favorite gift being a new spear. The weapon much sturdier and more ornate than the hand me down, borrowed one he’d been using. He’d almost not been able to accept it, he’d shook his head and gaped at it until you kissed him silly and told him he’d need it. A true symbol of being a Reef Warrior.

Jake and Neytiri watch it all with knowing eyes. The gift giving, the looks the two of you share. The way that Neteyam sneaks away late at night and doesn't return until just before morning eclipse.

“The girl is courting you, yes? Your karyu(teacher)” Neytiri asks one night, the statement seemingly appearing out of thin air. It’s just the two of them, maintenancing the Ikran. He’s not even all that surprised at her sharp tone and knowing gaze.

He thinks that’s why your frank nature doesn't alarm him the way it might do so with others. His mother is Beta, and yet her straightforwardness rivals that of any Alpha. He’d been conditioned to headstrong women since he came out of the womb.

There’s really no point in lying “She is, yeah”

“And you are accepting it?” It’s not really phased as a question. Neytiri says it as though it is a fact, her observation skills keen.

Neteyam just shrugs, the tips of his feline ears feeling hot as they twitch.

“I thought you didn’t get along with her? You spoke of her with much disdain” his mother continues. To any it sounds like an interrogation. She hopes he knows that she just wishes to understand him better.

Neteyam feels a little guilty about that. About all of the times he had told everyone who would listen that he wanted nothing to do with you. He had been so confused about his feelings for you- had lashed out in the only way he knew how.

“I was wrong about her. She has been nothing but kind to me, and our family- . I…I didn’t know how to trust anyone here. Especially not an Alpha” Neteyam focuses on his task of oiling the leather of his Ikran riding gear as he speaks “She never makes me feel less. For being Omega”

Neytiri mulls that over. Nodding. Before responding after a moment “I know that Metkayina traditions are different but please, if you are being intimate do not feel like you cannot come to me. If you are not ready for children, I can assist with contraceptive tonics-”

It is not that he is embarrassed of these talks. Na’vi are freer with their sexuality, he wasn’t adverse to discussing it with his mom. His earthly raised father might be more hesitant, but Neytiri had raised her children to be open with her about all things.

Sex is nature, and nature is Eywa. The great mother encourages love and pleasure.

Pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers, Neteyam groans irately.

That was the one promise you had yet to keep- and to be perfectly honest, it was driving him fucking crazy. You hadn't slept with him. Were trying to respect his fragile Omiticayan laurels. You wouldn't take him, no matter how much he threw himself at you.

He’s way past thinking it’s sweet that you’re trying to be respectful. He hates you for teasing him half out of his mind. “If that problem arises, I will let you know. As of now, I fear she is torturing me. And claiming it’s respect”

Neytiri laughs, wheezy and hard at her poor eldest sons predicament. In the back of her mind, she notes it. A little more open to the idea of welcoming you into her close family unit. Neytiri had been huffy that you, the daughter of the Olo’eyktan, had not begged permission to court her son to which Jake reminded her that she herself seduced him under the tree of souls all those years ago- Mo’at and Eytukan’s blessings nowhere to be found.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

It had become almost a nightly routine; sneaking out as the moons hung heavy in the dark sky. The glittering stars the only light illuminating his path.

Neteyam has to wait until everyone in the pod’s asleep, the cacophony of snores his tell. Once he’s sure his family has settled into REM, he slinks out of the front entrance. Years of finely tubing his hunting skills make him silent and quick on his feet. It’s all too easy to nimbly navigate the village and escape, unknowingly, into the tree line beyond the mangroves.

It’s not far of a walk, but deep enough into the tropical trees that he wasn’t too worried about being followed. The forest is familiar to him, even though the trees are different than the ones from home. He should feel a sense of peace along all of the familiarity- and instead his stomach is filled with shimmyflies. The excitement bubbling up into his throat.

It didn’t matter how much you guys did this, snuck away to hide in the shadows, the promise of your hands on his body and your lips on his made him dizzy with want.

He finds you in the clearing that the two of you had dubbed your own; surrounded by the thickest shrubbery that acted like some sort of privacy hedge. The Pandoran flora and fauna made the space glow iridescent and neon purple in the dark night. The reason why the two of you spend so much time there is because of the patch of plush grass and sand. Perfect to lie in-

You’re lounged there. Waiting for him. Curvy body sprawled out on a crocheted blanked, looking beyond ethereal in the glow.

You stare at the stars as you often do. Powdery eyes distracted and far away, deep in your own thoughts. He wonders, as he regularly does, if the stress of it all gets to you. It certainly used to get to him back when he was being groomed to be heir of his clan. You handle pressure so well that he forgets that you’re under it constantly.

That won’t do.

They can have you in the sunshine, under the harsh glare your responsibilities are clear and you tend to them.

Under the moonlight you’re his.

He creeps, feline and silent, ever closer-

“-Forest boy!” You exclaim in alarm, trying to sit up futilely. “What?!-“

He’d leapt from the shadows lighting quick. Using your distraction against you, before you even realized he was close he was already on top of you. Pinning you to the ground. His big hands around your finned wrists.

He giggles silently, amused and smug as he sits atop your legs. “Who’s the mighty warrior, hmm?”

The snarl you give him is reactionary. Your body arches under him, iris’s gleaming dangerously. You’re all Alpha. All apex predator, hardwired to fight anyone and anything that threatened your need to be in control-

And yet you relax a moment later. Sagging underneath him.

Neteyam’s core tingles, his tail flicking behind him, exhilarated at the obvious submission.

You stare up at him, arms pinned above your head, thighs spread and as he sits between them and he tries to imprint the sight somewhere deep. You’re so gorgeous, hair in flowing dark waves around your behind your shoulders and lips parted, a pink tongue running over them repeatedly.

“Say it” it’s supposed to be a demand, but instead it falls from him in a plea.

You smirk, your features going sharp and mean and he presses down on your wrists. Leaning further down.

“Say it” it’s a hiss, his nose against yours. Spit landing on your face.

There’s a tense moment- the forest quiet and atmosphere heavy. You’re a predator but so is he. One of a different kind. Underestimated- but no less deadly.

You acknowledge that in him. See it. Stroke that vicious creature in his chest the way that no one else ever had.

“You’re my mighty warrior, Sayrip(handsome). The mightiest I’ve ever come across” you reassure, about rubbing affectionately against his own. “I have the bruises from earlier to prove it”

Neteyam’s grin is shit eating. The cat that caught the canary. You always tell him exactly what he needs to hear. He’d known that he had done well earlier in group training with the other warriors, but it’s nice to hear you say it.

Lately he’s found that yours is the only opinion that he cares about.

“Sorry ‘bout that” he speaks right into your mouth, lips grazing your own.

“I’m sure” you snort- but before you can make any other retorts he closes that barely there distance. Slotting in between your legs perfectly and leaning his weight down on to you.

Kissing you feels like soaring. Like he’s flying amongst the Hallelujah Mountains.

It’s slow at first, like it always is. Both of you just want to taste and savor- but then the hunger sets in. He’s eager with his tongue, wants to taste the sweet cavern of your mouth. Once you let him in he’s sighing, keening as he sucks on your tongue, licks at your sharp teeth.

You’re truly starting to struggle. Wiggling underneath him, hands straining against his hold.

“Tey” you grunt as you pull away. He tries to recapture your lips but you turn away from him- instead he presses his face into your throat.

Your scent is concentrated there, pheromones free flowing from your scent gland with every beat of your heart.

It’s the salty sea. And jungle flowers. The herby musk of the beans that make his favorite tea. You smell like cozy nights when it’s raining and the sky is full of electricity. Both comfort and unchained freedom in one.

He moans and runs his wet tongue along your skin, licking the gland needily. It explodes on his tastebuds.

The loud, shocked squawk, unlady like and certainly unAlpha like.

And then you’re breaking his hold,so fucking strong. He doesn’t put up a fight and lets you go. Welcomes the feeling of your hands on his body like they’re supposed to be.

You paw at his broad back, appreciative of the tensing muscles there, all the while he’s suckling at your neck. Your pheromones are addicting as he swallows them down. Breathes them in and fills his lungs with them- drowning in you.

He wants to roll in your scent. To bathe in it. To wake up with it every morning surrounding him and isn’t that a revaluation all in it’s own.

He chokes as your small fingers begin to massage the base of his tail, rubbing on smooth little circles at the bottom of his spine. It sends tingles all the way up his spine, strumming against every vertebra- making his kuru ache.

It’s good enough to make his eyes cross, his slim hips thrusting roughly, bumping his covered cock into the warmth between your thick thighs. Ones he starts, he can’t atop. It feels too good, stimulating himself roughly with your own body while you play with his over sensitive tail.

“Hey. Slow down-“ you start, your touch leaving him and voice hesitant.

No.

Not tonight.

He couldn’t do it anymore.

He was pretty fucking sure at this point that you were this close to triggering his heat- months early. He was in a constant state of arousal, his crotch aching on and off throughout the day.

You were going to help him. Do something about what you’d caused. You had to.

He keeps thrusting, short little bursts, into your tweng covered cunt. He’d rather it be bare, rather be inside of you, but he’ll take what he can get. You’re hit and humid at the apex of your body, he can feel it between the layers of clothing.

“Neteyam-” that snarl in your tone coming back. And it’s not teasing anymore. It’s warning.

Your strong legs come around his waist, your calves trying to lock him in place. Take control of the situation.

He just nuzzles his face deeper into your shoulder, his knees digging into the earth as he grounded himself- giving himself the leverage to keep fucking between your thighs as hard as he possibly could.

He’d always hated begging. Was so far above it. Back home he’d been royalty- had spent his life wanting for nothing. And even so, even here where is status was low standing he would rather die then grovel. His pride was too great.

“Please Y/N” he whispers and once he starts, he can’t stop “please, please, please”

Your legs loosen from their hold and he thinks you might take pity on him. Might let him get what he needed.

Of course things can never be easy with you.

One moment he’s sloppily chasing his high, the next there’s vertigo, the confused feeling of being moved without his permission- before he lands on his back with a huff.

You’d managed to roll the two of you over, and you sit on top of him. Your thick thighs a cage around his middle. You gaze down at him with a look that’s filled with concern, wearing a frustrated frown frown

He groans, slamming his head back into the grass. Hopelessly.

“What the fuck was that?” You inquire sharply. When he doesn’t look at you grab his face, his lips purse as you squeeze his cheeks.

“Maybe I’m sick of being teased” he sounds like a petulant child. His smushed cheeks make it all the worse.

You sigh and release his face and he doesn’t know what to do. How to get you to take him. You want him- he can tell- so why are you torturing you both?

His hands go to your thighs, squeezing. It’s all pillowy flesh and hard muscle underneath. He wants them to smother him. He distracts him self by digging his fingers into them, watching them jiggle as he releases.

“I’m not meaning to tease you. Come on, you know that”

“So working me up until I feel like I’m dying every night isn’t teasing?” He scoffs “yeah, whatever”

“I’m trying to take it slow. Be respectful”

He doesn’t want to be respected, not like this. Not by you. “Why?”

“Huh?”

“Why do we have to go so slow? Is this how you’ve been with all your partners?” He spits that last bit. Defensive and jealous over thinking about you with anyone else… “Or is it because I’m a virgin?”

You look a little dumb. Sitting on top of him with that half-baked expression. Like you’re trying to figure out what it is you want to say. “Well yeah. Obviously”

A flash of anger surges through him. He doesn’t need an Alpha trying to control his decisions. He's not some saint-like virgin who doesn’t want to be touched. He’s just someone who’d managed to go into adulthood without being fucked.

He maneuvers you off of him.

“I don’t get what I’m doing wrong” you’re woeful as you sit next to him in the grass.

“Do you want to know why I haven’t slept with anybody?” He starts. This conversation is going to be embarrassing for him. He doesn’t want to have it, but feels it’s necessary. You’re an asshole for making this necessary.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to” you’re trying to be reassuring and calm but can smell your confused, semi hysterical hormones. There’s an Omega in distress and all you want to do is help.

You could sort all of this out by knotting him until he didn’t know his own name anymore, but alas.

“It’s not because I’m some pious freak. Yeah, the Omiticaya are more traditional but they don’t shun clans members that have pre-bonded sex, Y/N” he’s not happy as he speaks. You can tell by the way he wrings his hands, by the way his ears sit close to his braids “I’ve always had a lot going on. With my family. Even when I was younger I was always running after one of my siblings…and then the Sky People came back. It was- chaos. I barely had a moment to think, much less find anyone to mate with. And back home people only wanted to be around me because I was Olo’eyktan in training. Toruk Makto’s only Omega son”

He’s never seen you so quiet. You’re usually the loudest person in the room. Filling up any and all space with your musical voice and chiming laughter.

You give him the space to say what he needs to.

“I don’t trust easily. I knew what people wanted me for. No one cared about getting to know me, not really…and I’m not good at talking to people anyway. Ah” he’s frustrated. Tongue tying into knots as he tries to articulate the thoughts in his head.

How does he tell you that he’d been so introverted that he hadn’t had his first kiss until just after his 17th birthday?

That war had consumed his every minute and he hadn’t really been all that concerned about losing his virginity. Not until he met you.

Your hand slips into his lap, fingers interlacing with his as you wait for him to finish.

“You think that I’m a virgin because I wanted to be. I’m not. I just didn’t trust anyone enough to be with them that way” as he finishes his long-winded rant, something hangs in the air.

Something unsaid.

He didn’t trust anyone before.

But he trusted you.

You squeeze his hand tight and bring it to your lips. Kissing the top of it over and over.

“I don’t want to fuck this up. I want to do right by you” you admit. It sounds as vulnerable as he feels.

“Then stop trying to control this. Just be with me”

A lot of decisions in his life were taken from him, ripped away while he watched and mutely grieved. He wanted you, as close to him as possible. That was his, his desire. His prerogative. His choice.

You tug on his hand, bringing him back close, and hold him as you kiss him. Your tongue soothing, making him sigh. He’s so easy for this. For you.

Your bodies seem to fit together without thought, you roll atop of him and settling between his strong svelte legs happens seamlessly. Your lips never disconnect.

When you pull away, leaving him slick lipped and panting, he’s ready to admit defeat.

Instead, you hold his honeyed gaze as you reach behind yourself. Fiddling with the ties of your top until it falls off, your chest bare and on display.

Your breasts are pretty, full and topped with hard little nipples. He yearns to rub his cheek to your skin and can feel his erection stirring again.

“I can’t have sex with you yet- and that isn’t about you. It’s about me” you start as you slowly reach for the carob colored leather of his tweng. Giving him ample time to push you away if he pleases “You are not yet recognized as a fully fledged member of the clan. Soon, my sweet. But not yet”

He shivers as your fingertips trace his sensitive hips, tugging on the knots “W-what?”

“Just because I can’t fuck you doesn’t mean that I can’t make you feel good. I’m sorry for teasing , I won’t do that to you anymore” you coo apologetically, nimbly loosening his cloth until its pooling under him “Is this okay with you?”

Neteyam can only nod. Too nervous speak, not wanting to spoil this moment.

You tug the garment down his long legs and he fights the instant urge to close them, to shield himself. Instead, he takes a deep shaky breath, trying to ignore the heat flaming across his face.

“Shh” you smile, cupping his jaw and kissing him “It’s only me and you here, and I want to make it up to you”

And make it up you do.

Neteyam didn't think that anything could feel better then kissing you, then your lips on his, then you consuming his mouth. But as the kiss grows voracious, your hand slips down his body. Over the hard lines of muscle- and in between his spread legs.

“Oh” he hisses at the foreign feeling of you touching him where only his own fingers had been. His slit is swollen and puffy, his cock already peeking out. Tender and hypersensitive as you coax it all the way out from inside his body. “Oh, that feels. Ah-”

Male Omega’s have different anatomy and it’d never been anything he thought twice about. Just what he was born with, but as you work him over with your fingers, he thanks Eywa for all that he’d blessed him with. His long, hard cock. The way that you pump it slowly, paying special attention to the mushroom tip feels so nice. The slick that leaks all around, making his gash and puffy lips slippery and smooth. There’s so much stimulation.

He’s gasping wildly within minutes, clutching at desperately at the ground.

It's all so new. All so much better than he thought it would be.

When your head starts to follow that same path down his body, tongue dragging over his nipples. His ‘X’ shaped sternum. His concaving stomach and belly button- he can't bare it. Can't watch as you take the tip in your sinful mouth.

It doesn't matter how much he shrieks and writhes, you don't stop. The crude sloppy sounds of you choking yourself on his wet member echo around the trees, only interrupted by his wheezes. It’s not sweet or kind, the pleasure you give him is almost violent. It’s shameful, but he doesn't last very long at all, how could he? He’d wanted this so badly, and his untouched body had been on the brink of orgasm ever since you’d kissed him all those weeks ago back at the beach.

When your tricky fingers run over the tight ring of his hole he whites out.

His body goes tight as his orgasm washes over him in mind numbing waves. Your mouth fills with his cum. He grabs your hair firmly in both fists, holding your face still. Fucking your throat as he empties his entire being into you.

This feeling is transcending. He was a changed man, never to be the same. Floating somewhere above his body there's only one thing he can think of.

That he wants.

His turn to taste you.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Okay so I literally have so much more of this written but handle but this first part already is 1100 words long. I had to cut it there. Fear not, I’m hella inspired and am planning to not only update but get this little three parter done in the next week or so!

Okay, I thought I’d give you some background on the A/B/O aspect of this story. Secondary gender is something that all Na’vi have- and although Male Omega’s and Female Alpha’s aren't as common, they’re far from rare.

Male Omega’s have an anatomy that looks similar to this. I’ve been obsessed with this artwork since I saw it. Alien biology is too fun not to play with. In my head they can both fuck and be fucked

A Female Alphas knot is actually internal and is able to lock down and keep things inside.

Still plotting and feeling this world and its rules out! Let me know what you guys think and any ideas you have. You know I love to brainstorm.

A List of the Avatar Characters and the Secondary Genders(in this story)

Jake- Avatars don't have secondary genders.

Neytiri- Beta

Lo’ak- Beta

Kiri-Beta

Tuk-Alpha

Tonowari-Omega

Ronal- Alpha

Tsireya- Alpha(shes actually my fave Alpha tbh!)

Ao’nung- Beta

Gonna take a moment right at the end here to talk about some of my favorite authors and creators that inspire me to not only hone my craft, but continue post on here at all! Give them a read if you need something beyond good to tide you over until the next chapter.

@tiredmamaissy is the literal blueprint for Na'vi ABO.

@hinataashoyos writes the best damn porn with plot in this fandom

@justasimps-blog literally writes my FAVORITE near canon version of the Avatar characters

@cinetrix YOUR AI ART INSPIRED ALL OF THIS. Got me frothing at the mouth and shit. Also her Ao'nung story has a great Dom! Female in it.

[imagine-that-100]

Will We Talk? | Part 3 |

Description of Part 1: Alex Turner x Reader | Being Katie Cook’s best friend means you see a lot of a certain band, so it’s too bad that the lead singer can’t seem to stand being in your presence. You’re all too aware that you get chatty when you’re anxious, and despite being around each other for a decade, Alex still makes your heart race (and not in a good way). But then he asks a question you never expected to hear, and it changes everything: “Do I make you nervous?”

Word Count: 17.4k

Warnings: Smut 

A/N: Well... It's been a minute. I can only apologise for how long this part has taken me to write but believe me this will be worth the wait because holy shit. Again a big thank you to @alovesreading and @kennedy-brooke for helping and listening to me complain about me having to write this chapter as I was getting more and more stuck (prepare yourself for me being the exact same with part 4&5 tho). Also a big thank you to @lottiecrabie for beta reading this and lottifying it for me, you're a genius. Thank you to everyone who has waited for this one, I wont keep you any longer, go enjoy it. Thanks a million for reading x

| My Masterlist | 

| Part 1 | Part 2 |

Waking up beside Alex brought everything back to you and it hits you in the same way your hangover does your stomach. Sickeningly. 

Repercussions of what it all could mean give you a worse headache than you already have. Your body aches more than it has in a very long while. It’s easy for you to tell that it's not just the lingering alcohol making your muscles seize, it’s all the cardio Alex was putting the both of you through a matter of hours ago. 

So after lying in complete discomfort for 10 minutes, only focusing on the way your stomach is flipping and the steady breathing of the man on the other side of the bed, you get up. You head to the bathroom and you immediately go for a drink of water from the tap, followed quickly by using some toothpaste and some mouthwash to try and freshen yourself up. 

After using his toilet, you don’t even feel any remorse about turning on his shower. Once it’s a decent temperature, you walk in. You can’t even deny that this might be the nicest shower of your life. You fully let the hot water relax your muscles and you don’t think twice about using Alex’s stuff. 

You’re surprised the man actually has both shampoo and conditioner instead of a 2 in 1. After all, his hair is only just growing back and it’s still shorter than what it was back when they first got famous. You’re grateful regardless because it's good quality and it smells amazing, hints of eucalyptus with a smokey wood scent. 

Taking your time washing your sore body down with his shower gel, you gently start to hum along to a tune that’s managed to stick in your head, and you’re glad the shower seems to rid you of your hangover symptoms. 

You end up in your own little world, reminiscing about last night's activities as you wash your body. Every brush of your fingers, you can feel Alex’s touch. If you close your eyes you can picture it all over again and the ghost of the feelings he stirred up in you. 

It’s like tingles are running through your bones. Just the memory alone throws you back into the moment, like you can feel him on you, inside you, his skin against yours, his lips on y- 

“How are you feeling?” Alex’s voice startles you. 

He walked in a few minutes ago after waking up needing to go to the toilet and he couldn’t hold it despite hearing the stream of the shower. He didn’t want to invade your privacy, but he knew the frosted glass that split the room would shield your body from him if you didn’t want him to see it. It would be silly after last night anyway. The image of you is seared into his retinas. 

So after using the toilet and brushing his teeth, he turned to see that you still hadn’t noticed his presence. He can only glimpse at a blur of a figure behind the steamed glass, the temperature in the room getting increasingly hotter as the moments pass. He can’t help but want to see you again, which is why he decides to open his mouth. 

You quickly whip yourself around and see him standing just near the end of the glass pane that divides the shower from the rest of the room. Alex’s gaze is on your face, staying respectful and not lingering down, even though he’d seen you a matter of hours ago. 

Him startling you when you least expected has your heart racing, not to mention his actual presence. The fact he is still very naked in front of you makes your blood pound in your chest faster. Flashes of last night come back to you and it’s like you can feel him touching you again. Feel him kiss your skin again. Feel him insid-

Not the time Y/N. He asked you a question. Oh shit yeah.

“A little better after a shower, thanks.” You say once the shock of his presence dwindles a little. Unsurprisingly, you start to panic ramble, “Sorry for not asking, I should have- but I- I just didn’t want to wake you up.”

“It’s fine Y/N/N,” Alex brushes your apology off, and after a beat he asks, “Mind if I jump in?”

Trying not to let the anxiety show on your face as it creeps up your spine, you just nod and shrug, “Your shower.”

You were just about done anyway. 

You enjoy the hot water for a second more before you mentally prepare to leave the warmth. Once you say a silent goodbye to the glorious shower, you turn and see Alex has just stepped in, heading for the water. You go to move past him, and trail off, “I’ll just let you…” 

“You don’t have to leave.” Alex says as he catches your wrist, his thumb caressing your skin. 

Your eyes go wide and you can feel yourself about to stutter as you start, “But I-”

Alex interrupts, “Stay.” He doesn’t want to give you time to overthink but he also won’t push you. Though he appears pleased when you gently nod. You let him guide you back to the water. 

Although you’ve agreed, he can see there's still hesitance there and a hint of awkwardness that he wants gone quickly. In the best way he can, he addresses it directly and with a soft smile on his lips. “You know we fucked last night, right?” He holds his grin when he sees your eyes go wide, clearly not expecting him to say that. 

But going through your head is, No shit! What a stupid fucking question! How the fuck could anyone forget a night like that?! Forget someone fucking you like that… What a fucking idiot to even ask.

As it turns out, your thoughts are a little hasty, because Alex’s gentle tone continues as he lathers himself up in shower gel, saying, “You don’t need to feel awkward. I’ve already seen you.” 

Before you even know it your worries spill from your lips, “When we were drunk and we lost all inhibitions and I don’t know if you were blackout drunk or not, I don’t know if-” 

“I still remember.” Alex interrupts you, looking into your eyes and he takes your hand again and moves you back under the shower with him. 

While that in itself makes you feel a little easier, the fact that you don’t know where to look makes your mind spin. It feels uncouth to look down, especially considering you haven’t seen him look down either. But like he just said, you saw each other last night and it shouldn’t be awkward.

Christ, you weren’t built for the stresses of one night stands. Or friends (if you can even call him that) with benefits, or whatever the fuck this is. 

“You’re still gorgeous,” Alex assures you, “Please don’t overthink, just stay.” 

You gently nod again, trying to just not think about the fact that you're standing naked beside a man you barely know. Instead you close your eyes and enjoy the water again, blocking out the man washing his body beside you and you let your body relax as you tilt your head up towards the huge shower head and let it rain over you. 

Having a shower was always relaxing for you, a brief escape from the hectic days you tend to have and if shit goes wrong, a shower can most of the time fix the mood the day has put you in. It’s your safe space to decompress: you just let yourself calm down again, and enjoy the way the hot water makes you relax. 

Alex doesn’t notice what you’re doing straight away, not until he turns to start washing his hair and he sees you standing beside him looking all stoic. Suddenly, he can’t take his eyes off you. 

You look so at peace, as if all your worries and overthinking had been washed away by the water you’re both standing under. You look gorgeous with the way the various lights in the room are hitting your skin, almost making you glow in the warm lighting. 

It’s almost like he's watching in slow motion, how he watches the water trickle down your pretty features. Bouncing from your eyelashes and running down your cheeks until it reaches your lips that still look plump from your activities last night. Alex feels the urge to kiss you again, but he manages to resist. He’s only just got you calm, the last thing he wants it to unnerve you. 

Little does Alex know that he already sort of is. Not through any fault of his own as you can’t expect to be in the shower with someone and for them to pay no attention to you, but you can feel his eyes on you. Not in a creepy way in the slightest, but you can feel his gaze and the awkwardness is threatening to bubble back up your spine. 

Trying your best to suppress it, you take another few deep breaths and roll your head and your shoulders a few times to encourage your muscles to loosen up again. You really hate not knowing where you stand with him, but suddenly your mouth that likes to nervously chat away can’t even open. The last thing you want to do now is annoy him and for him to tell you to leave and it makes things messier than they are already bound to be with Katie and Jamie.

Oh lord, how the fuck am I meant to tell Katie? She’s going to disown me. Jamie will never be able to look at me again. I’ll never be Forrest’s favourite auntie again when I inevitably can’t see him anymore. I- No, stop over thinking. Stop. It.

Alex can practically see you cogs spinning in your head again so he gently encourages you to get out of your head and hopes you start chatting to him again. He’s never been in your presence and you’ve been so silent. The last thing he wants is for you to overthink something as simple as a shower.

“Are you still feeling okay?” The singer can’t help but ask as softly as he can so he doesn’t make you jump by interrupting your quiet moment. 

“I-” You clear your throat, “Yeah, I’m okay thank you.”

“Sure?” Alex questions, wanting to keep your brain as clear as possible,

You nod, smiling a little at the endearing way he double checked. Who is this man and what has he done with the Alex Turner you’ve been used to for the past decade?

“How are you feeling?” You ask, wanting to reciprocate the manners he’s showing you. 

“Good thanks,” He nods and smiles at you, “Little headache but we both drank a lot so it makes sense.” You try not to watch the way the water runs down his neck and his chest as he talks to you, “Was good in that club though. I enjoyed it.” 

“Yeah it was good.” You agree, trying to keep your eyes on his but failing every now and again, “No one bothered you either so I guess that was a little better for you too. Makes a night easier I suppose... Did you have a fun night with Jamie?” 

“I had more fun with you.” Alex smirks a little, not missing the way your eyes have begun to wonder slightly. He’s still sincere when he asks, “Did you have fun?” 

You know that he’s not talking about your night out anymore, he’s talking about your night with him and you’d be a liar if you didn’t answer, “Yeah.” You flush, asking him shyly, “Did you?” 

“Most definitely.” Alex hums. His focus is solely on you now. He takes a step closer to you, as even he can feel the tension from last night stir back up between you. He watches your reactions closely and when he sees his proximity doesn’t alarm you, he lowers his voice a little to ask one more question, his finger coming to trace your jaw as he does, “Do you regret it?”

You shake your head, keeping your eyes on his. You’re not letting your nerves get the better of you. “No.”

“Good.” Alex smiles and his hand moves from tracing your jaw to your neck where he cups it again. Before you can really comprehend it, his lips dip down and take yours in a kiss. 

It’s not a simple kiss. There’s heavy meaning behind it, spinning in the back of your dizzy head, seeping through your panting breaths, gripping his rough hand as it caresses your cheek, flexed and clenched like he’s holding back doing more.

It’s a losing battle. As soon as a moan spills from your hot mouth, Alex grips your waist and pulls you flush against him. Your chests rise and fall in sync, and there’s something even more meaningful knocking at the back of your head. It feels dangerous, like another border you’re crossing without even looking back. At least you know now it wasn’t just the amarettos on rocks making his kisses feel like your stomach might flip. 

You reach up, one hand finding his nape, the other digging into his wet hair. There’s a sense of you trapping him, wrapping him in a deadly trap he, thankfully Alex, doesn’t seem to want to even try escaping. Instead, he moves the both of you back under the stream of water so you don’t get cold, as though that was possible with your temperature rising with every artful swipe of his tongue. His hand practically burns at your waist, strong and present and callused, and soon you’ll need an ice bath just to recover from him. 

Alex steals every breath from your mouth and you give them to him without a second thought. It’s pathetically quickly that you can feel yourself getting wet, and not just from the stream of water pouring on you. It’s everything. His mouth, his tongue, his hands; from the way he’s touching you now to the way you can still remember him fucking you yesterday, like a permanent branding iron on your body that burns, burns, burns. Your heart races in your chest. You’ve never felt more alive.

Alex snakes a hand around your back, firmly holding you against him like you’re his prized possession, like he fears losing you down the showerdrain if he doesn’t trap you in his arms. He gets needy whimpers out of you, muffled by his eager tongue. You pull away when his hand falls to your arse and squeezes tightly, moaning into the hot, heavy air, into his open mouth that’s fucking smirking. 

Cocky, he runs his gentle hand down your cheek, butterfly kisses across your jaw, to settle on your neck. His dark eyes dig into yours as he squeezes, ready to catch every microreaction. You release a pretty soft sound for him, whining. His hand’s heavy and meaningful around your throat, hanging from it like he owns you. 

It only makes you more desperate for him. Needing to get your claws into something, you pull harshly on his wet hair. He groans, mouth hanging open in pleasure, and you use that to your full advantage to catch his mouth again.

Alex is hard against you; the knowledge that it’s you causing this reaction in him boosts your confidence tenfold. Enough to make you want to drop to your knees for him here and now. You’re pretty certain the singer wouldn’t mind.

The idea transforms into a need, soaking your thighs further. Eager, you let your hand run down his wet chest, sweet and worshipping, making him shiver against you. You drop it to his cock, just two light fingers touching his length, teasing him. He pulls away from your lips, moaning. His face looks down to the beginning show in wonder. You smirk. No, he wouldn’t mind at all. Slowly, you wrap around him. “Fuck,” he mutters. 

The noises you pull from him have you pressing your thighs together. Noises that you wish you could record and play on loop when he’s not there to help you; pretty, pornographic moans that vibrate against your cheek. You fall into his neck to kiss and nip and lick at, letting his sounds bloom into your ear. His hips jump into your fist, making you that more determined to continue stroking him, wanting and needing him to unravel, to be entirely at your mercy. 

But you know your mouth is ten times better than your hand, so you climb back up to his lips, leaving a quick, hot kiss, then biting his lower one. You tug and release, smirking at his hitched breath. There's a moment then where you both look at each other, lust the only thing in either of your eyes, and it’s as though the steaming water runs cold compared to the heat between your greedy bodies. 

There's a fraction of a second where everything changes. Time slows for it to happen. Still, your brain can’t keep up. Just as your eyes fall and you back away to allow your knees to sink and hit the tiles below, Alex grabs you by your hair with both hands, bringing you back up and pulling you into another kiss. 

It’s hard and hungry, and it takes you enough by surprise that you stumble back, unsteady on your feet. Alex follows, greedily allowing himself an extra second of the torrid kiss before he spins you around and pushes you up against the glass. The bitter coldness of the glass against your scorching skin makes you gasp, a rush of pleasure spreading down your spine. You can feel Alex’s smirk as he presses himself against your back. 

His arm snakes around your waist as his lips find home where your shoulder meets the base of your neck. Your thin necklace does nothing to stop his mouth attacking the skin there, biting, then soothing it away with his tongue. His fingers trail down between your thighs. With a moan, your head falls to the glass, cool against your skin. You throb for him.

His fingers brush your clit, making you gasp and whine for him before he dips his fingers down further to feel just how wet he’s made you. He can’t help but smirk against your ear, as if he’s not already almost completely hard against your arse. Gathering a pool of your arousal, he finds your bundle of nerves again, gently rubbing it. 

Slow teases on your clit make your head fall back on his shoulder and you can’t help but moan. You clutch his wrist with one hand in a silent beg not to stop. Sweet whines of pleasure escape your lips, filling the hot room with more than just the stream from the shower.

Without fully realising, Alex finds himself rocking his aching cock against you, causing your body to shift. Dragging your nipples across the cold glass heightens your senses more than ever. You’ve never dealt with such different intensities of temperature before, never known such staggering opposites could make your body melt and drip with euphoria. 

“This what you want, sweet?” You can feel Alex’s hot breath against your ear, “Want me to make you feel good again?”

Your moans are answer enough for him, but it delights him how he has you begging, “Please.” 

“Good girl.” He smirks, nipping the skin just behind your ear before he adds more pressure to your clit. 

Your hand blindly reaches to grasp something, but the cool glass beneath your palms doesn’t help at all. It slides off the glass, entirely unable to catch any resistance with the way the scolding water is still raining down on the both of you. 

Alex could get used to this. The way you’re filling up his bathroom with those pretty sounds that keep falling from your lips, making it very obvious that you’re enjoying everything he’s doing to you. He fucking loves how vocal you are, he loves the fact that you can’t keep those swollen lips of yours shut for him, and he revels in the fact he’s the one bringing you so much pleasure.

“Alex,” You whine out after a minute of him concentrating on your swollen clit, circling and circling until your legs shake under you.

He kisses his way up your neck as he huskily asks, “Yeah?” He focuses back on the makings of a bruise he left there in the early hours of the morning, proud and possessive at the sight of it.

“More.” You just about get out.  

You can’t really think of what else other than more. You need more. 

The way you can feel just how hard he is against your arse and how his hips keep grinding into your own is making you clench around nothing, begging and pleading to be filled. It feels criminal to be this empty at this point. You’re aching to be fucked by him again. 

“You’re greedy, sweet,” he tsks as he kisses his way down your neck. You push your hips against his, rolling them, hoping for something. He’s unflappable, pressing you back up against the glass as he asks, “Can’t be happy with what I'm giving you? You want more?” You nod furiously, mind too hazy to hear the danger in his tone. “Little pet thinks she knows better than me?” 

“Please,” You whine, high-pitched and breathy.  

It seems you’ve fallen right into his trap. Alex bites down on your shoulder, pain and pleasure blooming inside of you. The dominance, the power, the possessiveness has you clenching around nothing again. With the way your lower stomach knots and tightens and coils, you know your orgasm is building steadily. You just need more. 

You bite your lip raw trying to hold back cries, but he tuts in your ear, dragging it out of your teeth. “None of that, sweet. I want to hear you.” As though to give you motivation, he pinches your clit meanly. 

“Oh fuck, Alex!” You gasp. He smiles against your cheek, rewards you with tight circles on your bud again. He has you mindlessly begging now, “Please, please. Alex.”

“What is it you need, then?” Your mouth hangs open, incapable of forming thoughts and sentences when euphoria drowns you like this. Alex helpfully provides, “You need my fingers, is that it?” His hot breath sends goosebumps over your skin. He knows you like the way he teases you in these situations after last night's dalliance. He hums against your ear, “Whining and panting like a brat, I wonder if they’ll shut you up?”

Without another second of torment, the singer drops his hand until he can dip two fingers inside you. With how slick he’s made you, they slip in easily, stretching and filling you up. You cry out a, “Yes!” You’re shaking between his arms, so close and ready you might burst into tears if he doesn’t give you what you need. 

When they finally sink fully inside, you have to abandon your useless attempts to hold the glass in front of you. Instead, you reach back and root your fingers into Alex’s hair. 

You wish it was longer again so you had more to pull on, but your hold on him is enough to ground you to the moment, to him. Finally, he thrusts in and out of you, quick and deep like you need it. It’s shocking to feel how much he knows you, has memorised that dark night to the very last detail. And here you thought he wouldn’t even remember. 

He curls his fingers and electricity zaps through you. He easily finds the sweet spot inside you and hits it with every slide, sopping sounds filling the room as he stretches you open. You’re trembling, gripping his hair so tight you might unroot them. Your brain is too gone to worry about hurting him, drunk on the taste of him and pleasure.

“This what you wanted?” Alex asks, and all he’s met with is incoherent whines from you and a slack, furious nod. There’s an edge to his voice when he breathes,“Well, then. Aren’t you gonna say thank you?” 

“Thank you, Alex,” You immediately scream, too scared he’ll pull his fingers away, too addicted to bother arguing. “Thankyouthankyouthankyou.”

“What a good fucking girl, sweet.” You preen under his words. His hand caresses your hair, cooing, “So obedient, so fucking pretty.” He seems to itch to reward you for it when he asks, “Think you can take more?” Of course, you nod, wanting to be good for him and knowing you can handle whatever he has in mind for you. 

You don’t think you’ve ever released such a loud moan like the one that falls from your lips when he slips another finger. You’re stretched out, so full with three of his fingers inside of you. He’s fucking you open, determined and ruthless, pumping out all the sweet, fucked-out moans from you. Your cunt throbs around him, pleasure swooping low in your belly. God, you hope he never stops. This is everything you want and more. With every swipe of his digits, you feel yourself grow closer and closer 

“Taking it so well, sweet,” He breathes, choked from his own want. You grin at him, proud. “Doing so good for me, letting me fuck you like this. My favourite, little slut.” You clench around him at the name. He smirks, biting your cheek as he promises, “I got you.” 

You know he does, can feel it in the way he curls and fucks, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. Your lungs feel aflame, burning up in your chest. Your mind is languid from the ecstasy, melting and swirling in your skull. You can’t remember your own name, only his. 

“Are you close?” Alex teases, because he doesn’t need a response to know. “Christ, you’re practically squeezing my fingers to death.” You moan, your head falling on his shoulder, your hand holding him the tightest you ever have. 

Though he’s a little shit about it, Alex makes sure he does everything he can to give you your mindblowing orgasm. He cups your cunt, his palm hitting your clit. You have no shame, rutting against it, chasing that fatal end like it was your one true purpose.  

“Gonna cum for me like a good girl?” He breathes, looking down at the way your glistening body is reacting to him, chest rising and falling rapidly. He moves a hand to your tits, playing with the peaked nipples. Every sensation sends you a hit of true euphoria until you can’t tell where your body burns. 

He pinches your nipple and you whine pathetically. You’re so drunk on pleasure, you feel delirious, barely even able to get your words out. “Please, Al,” is all you seem to know.

“Yeah?” You can feel his smile against your neck. “Good. Cum on my fingers then, sweet. Show me what a whore you really are.” And when he bites your neck again, sheer desire just to make you feel him everywhere, you lose yourself. 

“Alex,” You cry out, and all of a sudden the pleasure is blinding, “Oh, fuck!” 

Your orgasm scorches your body in an overwhelming wave that buzzes to your bones. The singer works you through it, sickly sweet whispers of praise in your ear that intensify your pleasure tenfold. Alex has to practically stop himself from cumming as he feels you clenching around his fingers, along with the sharp tug on his hair as you clutch him tighter.

“That's it,” he whispers as you come back down from your staggering high. Before he slips his fingers out of you, he praises, “Good girl. Did so well for me, sweet. My best girl.”

Finally, he slides three soaked fingers out of you. The sudden feeling of emptiness has you feeling needy, and the haze of your orgasm lingering makes you dazed and unsteady on your feet. Thankfully, Alex has you tight in his grasp and he maintains that as you slowly turn towards him. 

You can’t even be angry at the shit eating grin on his face, you feel too cockdrunk to even care. He can let it feed his ego all he likes, in this moment you would do absolutely anything for him. 

So much so that you pull him in for a messy kiss, clashing teeth and swiping tongue. You’re still trembling slightly, from the orgasm and the intensity and the fact that it’s him. You press your body against his, feeling his hard cock against your belly. You moan. You need to rectify that right now. You pull away with the intent to drop to your knees again, but Alex’s hands holding your jaw clench, keeping you in place again, knowing exactly what you were planning.

Instead he shakes his head, “No.” 

You don’t understand why he won’t let you, especially when you want to make him feel good. So you demand the only other thing that you can think of. “Take me to bed.” 

But, again, Alex shakes his head. “We don't have to.”

He searches your eyes for some give, not wanting to make you do anything. He doesn’t care about his own release; he’s going to cum fast anyway with the show you just put on for him. He doesn’t need you to do anything for him, he just wanted to watch you unwind at his touch again.

“I don't believe I was asking,” You persist, looking at him sternly enough that you hope he doesn’t turn you down again. 

You want to make him feel good. You want him to cum as hard as you just have and you want to be the reason for it, the cause of his pleasure. You want it to be your doing. 

Thankfully whatever was stopping Alex from letting you sink to your knees for him, he seems to get over. “You want me buried deep inside you, sweet?” He coos, holding you impossibly close, looking at you like he can peer into your soul and pull out the most sinful parts of you, “Wanna cum again? Around my cock this time?”

It’s like there’s nothing else processing in your head other than the promise of him being inside you again. And, Christ, you do wanna cum around his cock, practically a need. Still, you whine, admitting, “Wanna make you feel good, too.”

Alex believes you. You’re holding him so tightly and looking at him with those big eyes that are practically begging to let you do something for him. He smiles, rubbing the stress behind your jaw. “Okay, sweet. Whatever you want.”

Alex turns the stream of water off and pulls you from the shower by grabbing your hand to keep you close. Before you leave the bathroom, he plucks you from the ground and into his arms. You squeak, but he mutes that with a kiss.

When he gets the both of you back into his bedroom, the cool air is a striking contrast to the heat that radiates from both of your bodies thanks to the steaming shower. Somehow, it adds to everything, heightens every sense and every touch Alex stimulates you with. 

Before you get used to Alex’s kisses or being in his arms, you’re thrown down on his bed, bouncing on the mattress. It should be embarrassing how much that turns you on, the sheer strength he threw you with, but you can’t bring yourself to care when you open your eyes to see him standing at the foot of the bed, looking at you like he wants to devour you. 

You lay across the bed for him, wet and pretty and ready, and his mouth waters. He knocks your knees apart to catch another glimpse of your glistening cunt. The cool air hitting you makes you gasp, but it’s music to Alex’s ears. All he wants is to lick and suck your swollen clit again, to dip his tongue back inside you, and have you mewling beneath him as he fucks you with it. 

But, of course, he likes to make a show of it. He can’t give you everything you desire at the drop of a hat. He likes to edge the both of you in that way. Instead, Alex takes his time to crawl up the bed between your thighs, getting acquainted and bruising the soft skin at the top of your legs. 

He can’t get enough of hearing you whining and moaning and the way you keep lifting your hips in search of relief faster. He just grasps them tightly and forces them back down on his mattress. Alex, not being strong enough to abstain from another taste of you, licks a bold stripe up from your entrance to your clit, eliciting a guttural moan from you as your hand flies to his wet hair. You tug on it, putty in his hands, as he starts devouring your already sensitive cunt. 

He’s licking and fucking into you, chin wet with your juices, you get a grip of his hair and tug him off you, desperately crying, “Too much.” You’re far too over sensitive after what happened in the shower. Another minute of him doing that and you would be cumming on his tongue again.

“Yeah?” He pouts at you, though you doubt there’s any real empathy in him. He’s far too pleased. “Can’t handle me eating you? Already too fucking fucked-out to survive it?” You nod, like you can’t hear the condescending tone in his voice. “What if I want a taste? You wouldn’t deny me that, would you?” 

Your lungs are burning. You might melt into his sheets if he doesn’t do something now. “Please, Alex.” 

“What is it, sweet? Use your words.” He pinches your thigh, making you look down at him. 

The visual of him between your thighs all wet from the shower and now with your slick on his lips and chin has you clenching around nothing. You beg him, “Need you.” and that makes the singer smirk as he starts crawling up your body, but not before leaving one last kiss on your clit. 

Those sinful lips of his trail kisses up your stomach and he makes sure to pay close attention to your breasts as he asks you, “Need me to fuck you dumb?” 

You swear you almost choke on your own tongue when he kisses up from your tits to your neck and you hear him say, “Have the only thing you can think about is how I fill you up? How good I fuck you? Make sure you can’t remember anything but my name?”

Murmurs of pleases come from you then, but for all you know you could be entirely incoherent as you just revel in the way Alex’s body presses against yours. Still, you must make somewhat sense, because he lines himself up and finally, finally, fills you with his cock again. 

“Fucking hell, sweet,” Alex can’t help but groan as he bottoms out, “Oh, shit.”

It takes everything in him not to cum there and then. But he won’t, he can’t, he has to make you cum first. With the way you look so cockdrunk beneath him, he doesn’t think that your release is too far away either.

Alex fucks you slow and hard first, making you feel every thrust of his cock as it buries inside of you over and over. Every drag of your nipples across his chest as he fucks into you. Every suck and nip and kiss on your neck, which he’s already abused more in the last 12 hours than your ex-husband ever did. Every single sensation is a perfect cocktail for a brain-wiping orgasm. You feel pleasure threatening the edges of you already.

He grunts each time he fucks into you, but it’s nothing compared to how loud you’re being for him. You’ve given up on holding back all the moans and screams, letting them fall down your chin and into his ears. He drinks them greedily, revelling in every way his name can come out of your mouth. 

His head flips to the other side, hand wrapping around your neck to tilt it and give him better access. While he kisses and licks at your collarbone, his fingers press into your throat. You gasp, a rush of pleasure striking through your body. Your body tingles, mouth hanging open. 

“You’re so fucking dirty for me,” he whipsers in your neck, then releases it. Oxygen rushes through you and adrenaline runs through your veins, doubling the ecstasy swimming through you. Your head feels hazy. 

Your skin is on fire. Both of your bodies are damp with a mix of the water from the shower and the new shine of sweat, but the contrast with the cool air and the way your chests are pressed together makes everything more intense. 

Your legs lock around his waist and your heels press into his lower back, needing him as close as possible. The feeling of him so deep inside you is everything you needed. You feel so full, so satisfied. You just need the split, the snap, the break.

“Alex!” He can’t help but fuck you faster, hitting your spot with every thrust. You can’t get used to the furious pace, digging your nails into his shoulders and scratching out your boiling pleasure. 

When you moan his name again, he can’t stop himself from teasing you, “So loud, sweet. Think I need to gag you, can’t stop that mouth of yours running.” You clench around him and he looks up at you gleefully. “Oh, you’d like that? Like being gagged and bound for me? Can’t move or talk as I get you off over, and over, and over, until you’re too dumb to even think?” Your cunt throbs and he laughs, so fucking pleased. “What a perfect, little slut.” 

With the way you scratch at his back, and pull his hair that your fingers are routed into, he assumes you enjoy his foul talking. “Just for me, right?” He fucks you harder and faster, punctuating his words and gripping your throat tighter as he grunts, “So loud, and All. For. Me.” 

Just like that, he has you cumming around him again. 

It's almost difficult for Alex to continue ploughing his hips into your own with how tight your cunt is gripping him, throbbing and clenching in waves that you don’t even notice because a white heat has taken over your body. 

You feel like you’re vibrating with the way the knot in your lower stomach snapped and you feel the wave of bliss tingle through your blood. It’s ecstasy at its finest, lighting you up and making you feel all gooey and dizzy and happy. 

Alex wishes he could continue fucking you, wanting desperately to fill you up with his cum, you haven’t discussed anything like that yet, and he didn’t put a condom on. It’s with massive reluctance that he pulls out of you and gets to his knees. He fucks his fist, arm flexed and strong, ready to cum on your stomach.

But again, you surprise the singer. Despite still being dazed, you push yourself up and before he can make himself finish, you stop him, grabbing his wrist to get his attention. When his eyes lock with yours, you tell him, teasing and filthy, “In my mouth.”

With a grunt, he scoops up to your chest, kneeling above you, hard cock over your head. You raise your head up to wrap your lips around him, smirking. Your mouth is warm and wet, enough to make him see stars. He knows there's no chance he will last. You suckle on his tip, before clutching the back of his thighs harder, pulling him closer and further into your mouth. 

You hollow your cheeks and make it messy for him, all spit and tongue and just focusing on him. But it lasts no more than twenty seconds because as soon as you take him down your throat maybe a grand total of five times, Alex shoots hot cum into your mouth and groans above you as he clenches a fistful of your hair. 

You swallow around him, making Alex choke out a gasp which has you smirking. Pulling off him, you make a show of it, head falling back into the sheets as you let him see what’s left of him in your mouth, before you swallow again. 

Alex's fingers are still rooted in your wet hair, and you look so pretty gazing up at him through your eyelashes, still all drunk on everything he’s given you. Christ, he would give you everything he has and more if he could have you like this all the time. 

“You’re filthy,” Alex grins down, entirely dazed and intoxicated with pleasure. “Where the fuck have you been, sweet?” 

~*~*~*~ One Day Later ~*~*~*~

“I’ll call you later today.” 

Famous last words. 

Because he has in fact not called you. 

Something which has made you question everything ever since he dropped you off about an hour after he came in your mouth on Sunday morning. The rest of Sunday was spent recovering, and today at work you’d been stressed, getting in your head about all the love bites that you had to hide, worrying over the fact you’ve yet to tell your best friend you’ve fucked one of her friends. 

Frankly, the consequences of your decision to go home with Alex were making you feel sick, worsened by the fact he has yet to call you. That’s why as soon as you finished work, you texted Katie asking if she was down for a wine night. Thankfully, she replied agreeing with a smiley face and wine emojis. 

That is how you’ve found yourself sitting in Katie’s lounge, chatting away to her, slowly putting off the inevitable.

You’ve already been here two hours. It’s 8pm and you’ve had more than enough wine to make your lips a little loose. You decide now is the time.

You take a deep breath before you commit to telling her. “Katie.” She hums in response as she takes a sip of her wine, focused on the label of the red bottle.

Here goes nothing.

“You’re going to hate me.” You let it sit in the air for a second. It falls heavily from your chest.

“I certainly doubt that.” She chuckles, but discards the bottle still, looking at you. She raises her eyebrows, prompting you to continue. “What’s up?”

Taking a deep breath, you ask, “You know the other night we went out?” 

“Yeah?” She nods, smiling at the memory of the fun night the both of you had. 

“I…” You elongate the word slightly before finally saying it out loud, “Had sex...” 

“Oh yeah?” Katie smirks, before leaning over to clink her glass of wine with yours, “So did I, check us out.” Clearly she remembers nothing about how you got home because she asks, “Who was your lucky fella?”

“Alex.” You drop the bomb before pressing your lips together.

“Stop.” Katie’s eyes go wide, letting her glass clink and swoosh on the table as she sits up. She leans closer to you and looks into your eyes, asking, “Are you fucking messing with me?”

Shaking your head, you moan, “I wish I was.” You feel your cheeks go hot when you pull down on your hoodie to reveal one of the huge bruises the singer left on you, “This cheap mark would not be here right now if I was messing about.” 

Katie’s jaw drops at the sight. The mark on your neck is so much darker than the rest of your skin tone, and if you didn’t have your hoodie on there was no way anyone would miss it. It’s fucking huge.

You think you’ve fucked your friendship as soon as the gasp leaves Katie’s mouth. When she starts laughing, you should be reassured that she’s okay with everything, but it unsettles you more, the sound entirely manic. A laugh that screams that she believes you’re playing the biggest practical joke on her of all time. 

In all honesty, it just shocked Katie to her soul. She can’t actually believe that you, the chatterbox that is her best friend, has shagged the grumpy rockstar singer that has never once uttered a word to her or Jamie about liking you in that way. She can see it though, she can imagine it was hot, but she is still so very shocked it’s difficult to stop the out of control laughter reaction. 

All you can do is rub your eyes for a second in an attempt to hide your face. After a few seconds, you rest your hands on your burning cheeks and gently drag them down as you ask in a pained voice, “Katie, have I made a huge mistake?”

“You’ve shagged Alex.” Your best friend's tone sounds entirely shocked with too much excitement still there to even answer your question. She has to say it out loud again, this time even louder, to even process it, “I can’t believe you shagged Alex!” But before you can even shush her, she turns and looks towards the stairs, yelling, “Jamie!”

“Katie! What the fuck, stop!” Your eyes go wide and you pray that Jamie’s selective hearing has come into play because you don’t want him here right now. You beg her, your hand even going out to hold her arm, “Please, I'm being serious. I'm freaking out.” 

“What are you freaking out about?” She still looks gagged, but now the excitement creeps in and she giggles, “This is brilliant.”

“How is this brilliant?” You ask, feeling your head whirring with every thought under the sun. You state the obvious, “It’s Alex.”

He’s one of her husband’s best friends. One of her close friends. You’re sure that this must cross some sort of unspoken friendship boundary. 

“Right?” She looks at you as if you’ve grown another head, clearly not understanding at all as to why you think this is an issue. “You’re surely not worried about me and Jamie having an issue with this, right?”

You think she’s losing it because of course that is a reason you’re freaking out. “Well, that is a part of my worry, yes.”

“Well, don't, because I'm buzzing for you.” Katie assures you, and she can practically see the way you let yourself take a breath. 

She wants to scorn you for being so worried about her reaction. It didn’t really matter if they were okay with it. As long as you and Alex were consenting adults and you were both happy with what was happening, then they wouldn’t stand in your way. But she can see your nervousness is deeper than just her blessing.

So your best friend asks, “What else are you worried about?”

“A lot of things.” You tell her as you press your lips against the rim of your wine glass. 

“Like what?” She asks, entirely calm again until her eyes go wide when she realises she needs to know more information, “Wait, how serious is this? Or is this a one time thing?”

If only you got a phone call, maybe you’d know. But alas.

So you just start from the beginning, “When he came to my house, he asked me if I was nervous around him because I wanted to fuck him. And when I stumbled on an answer he kept talking about it and we kissed. And t-” 

“Wait,” Katie’s jaw drops again and she almost shouts, “You kissed before we even got out?!” 

“Yeah,” You nod, trying not to think about the singer's lips on your own as you continue to ramble on, “And then I blurted out that I don’t do one night stands and he said he never said he wanted one. And then I said I’ve never done a friends with benefits thing. And then he kept flirting and teasing me all night and then the next thing I know, he’s going down on me on the stupid fucking orange settee in his lounge.”

Hearing that, your best friend desperately tries and ultimately fails to keep herself together. She wants to scream from the rooftops, but she can see your hand is over your mouth like you’re afraid to open it again. She's never seen you internally cringe so much since the first person you slept with after your divorce years ago. 

She’s trying to be the best friend she can to you, but ultimately she needs all the facts before she can give you her verdict, so she doesn’t really hesitate to ask, “How many times did he make you-”

“Five. I came five times.” You say through your fingers, as if you can’t believe it yourself. 

“Fuck off!” Katie gasps and slaps your arm. You’re in the middle of saying ‘ow’ as she shouts, “Five times! You’re joking?!”

“No.” You shake your head, rubbing the spot she hit. 

“Christ,” Your best friend looks at you a little jaw dropped again before she seems to regain some clarity when she tells you, “Hun, you are winning.”

“Yeah, well,” You mumble, shaking your head and taking a long sip of your wine, “That remains to be seen.”

“What do you mean?!” She hits you again then, and you frown at her as she groans, “I fucking wish-“

“Don’t,” you interrupt, holding your finger up, “You and Jamie have it very good! Don’t say-“

“Hun.” She deadpans, “We have a three year old child, do you think we have time for a session like that?”

“It wasn’t- He didn-“ You stumble on your words, feeling your cheeks get hot again and your heart start thudding embarrassingly fast as you explain in a whisper, “Some of it was the morning after.”

You can’t look at your best friend when you say that. Instead, you swirl your wine around your glass like it’s the most interesting thing in the world. It’s lucky you do though, because your best friend just about manages to pick up her jaw from the ground.

She starts grinning. “I can't wait to ask you every question under the sun about him now. I’ve not had the courage to fully ask the others. You’re my open book.” She chuckles, leaning forward to grab the bottle of wine from the coffee table before going to tip more into your glass, “Here, have some more wine.”

“Katie no, no.” You push the wine away from you, putting it down, your anxiety peeking at her finding this so funny when you’re about to have a meltdown. “This really isn't funny. Not today.” Only when you hide your face into your hands again does she realise you’re really on the verge of having a meltdown. You mumble, “I’m going to spiral and die.”

Katie decides to be serious for a second and comfort you. This has clearly been plaguing you and she can tell that you need her to forget that she knows him for a minute to help you work out what to do. 

“Okay, then tell me, what are you so scared of?” Your best friend asks, looking at you sincerely when she says, “This could be so good for you, Y/N/N.” 

It would be easier to ask what I’m not scared of, you think. 

But you tell her the thoughts running through your mind, “I’m scared I'll be wasting my time. I’m scared he’s going to get bored of me. And I'm scared that I've not felt that good or that comfortable with anyone that quickly in a long time… Christ, we had barely had a full conversation before the other day and now look at me.” You gesture to your neck as you carry on, “Massive fucking lovebite on my neck that I can’t cover up for shit and-”

“Breathe, oh my god, take a minute.” Katie stops you before you can continue any further. Christ, you’ve really wound yourself up this time, so she promises you, “You’re okay. It's okay.”

“Is it though?” You inquire, “Because he said he was going to call and he hasn’t and I’m not sure I want him to because I feel like, I dont know, what the fuck- “

“Hun, listen to me, calm down.” Your best friend stops you from falling down the rabbit hole by grabbing your hand and giving it a firm squeeze as she again promises you, “You’re fine, this is fine. You’ve just tried before you buyed and that can’t hurt. Like if he was shit you could bin him off, but now you know you’re at least going to have exciting sex.” 

“But is that enough?” You can’t help but wonder out loud, “I don’t even know if we’ve got anything in common, Kate.”

You’re not stupid. You know this thing doesn’t mean you’re in a relationship, but you can’t see yourself sleeping with someone for a long time if the only thing you have in common is liking to make each other climax. Christ, it’s too stressful, you’re really not cut out for this. 

“You have lots in common,” She assures you, and she smiles a little as she admits, “I’m surprised that this hasn’t happened sooner if I’m honest.” 

“What if it doesn’t work out?” You have to ask for your own peace of mind, “What if I make it awkward with Jamie and then you-”

“Y/N. Stop.” Your best friend interrupts, not letting you continue, “No spiralling allowed. Just let yourself enjoy it. God knows you deserve it.”

That, you can’t really disagree with. You’ve not been with anyone for a long while. You certainly deserve to have some fun, and considering she doesn’t seem to be fussed that the person you're having fun with is Alex, you guess that you’re willing to continue whatever this is if he wants to. 

“But he didn’t call,” you say, and your voice breaks at the end. 

Katie gives you a look. You don’t like that there’s a hint of pity in it. “I’m sure there’s a reason,” she assures you, then she thinks to ask the obvious question, “Did you give him your number?”

You blink at her. “Well, no,” You admit. You flush, looking away in embarrassment. “He said he’d call me like he already had my number. I just thought you or Jamie might have given it to him way before now. My number’s been the same for years.”

Katie can’t contain her small chuckle hearing that, “You’re stressed about this and you didn't even give him your number, Y/N.” 

You smile hearing how it sounds, but stress, “He said it like he had it already, Kate.”

“I just think that you’re best not to stress out until you know for a fact he has your number. I haven’t given it to him before, I don’t know if Jamie has.” Your best friend smiles at you before picking up your wine again to give it to you. “Can ask Jamie if he has though. Jamie!”

Your stomach drops again at the thought of Alex possibly already having told Jamie and still no phone call from you. It worsens when you hear Jamie start coming down the stairs and Katie turns to you quickly and asks, “Please can I tell him?”

You start to bargain, “You can see if he knows but don't just outrig-“

“Okay deal,” Katie interrupts excitedly before shouting, “Jamie, come here.”

You both see him walk leisurely down the stairs and when he makes it to the hall, Katie waves him over, “J.” When he turns around and walks in, you see he’s on the phone. 

“Yes if you still really want to. Kid is in bed so do not ring the doorbell. Right, bye.” The guitarist says before putting the phone down and back into his pocket as he gives Katie wide eyes and asks, “What darling, I’m trying to put your child to bed.”

Ignoring the ‘your’, Katie asks, “Jamie, did you know that Alex and Y/N shagged the other night?”

“Katie!” You shout, not believing she just told him like that.

“You’re joking!” Jamie’s eyes go wide in shock and he immediately looks from Katie to you asking, “Did you actually?!”

Katie teases and answers for you, “Yes, she did.” You want to curl up in a ball of embarrassment and die. 

“Stop,” You close your eyes for a second, so you can ignore the smug look both the Cooks are giving you. “I’m fucking mortified.”

Regaining his ability to function properly after a shock like that, Jamie shakes his head and thinks out loud, “That makes so much sense now.”

You’re thankful Katie asks, “What does?”

“He’s been asking after you all weekend.” Jamie grins looking at you. “I was wondering why he was asking for your number.”

“Did you give it him?” Your best friend asks expectantly, needing to know to answer your earlier question. 

And all is revealed when the guitarist admits, “Well, no.”

You breathe a little easier at the same time Katie scolds and slaps her husbands arm, yelling, “What the fuck Jamie, why?!”

“How was I meant to know they’d already fucked, Katie. Christ, that hurt.” He rubs his arm and backs away from the settee. “I didn’t think you’d want Alex trying to shag your best mate.”

The blonde shakes her head, “She’s been panicking all weekend because he’s not called her.”

“Wait, is this like a friends with b-” Jamie starts to question but his wife interrupts. 

Thankfully she answers for you, a lot harsher than you would have probably gone, but at least you don’t have to comment after she tells him, “She would know what they were if you gave him her phone number, you moron.” 

“I’m sorry Y/N, I didn’t know.” The guitarist apologises sincerely. 

You assure him, “It’s okay, J,” before finishing what's left in your wine glass.

It wasn’t like he was meant to know. And you’re very grateful that Alex hadn’t already told him. But your best friend isn’t so forgiving. 

“No it’s not.” Katie frowns at her husband, “You should have given it to him straight away. You know they’d be good together, we’ve talked about it before!”

“Three fucking years ago, Kate.” He reminds her, before once again apologising to you, “Sorry, Y/N.” 

But after hearing that, it’s your turn to be jaw dropped, “What?” 

Katie sighs, clearly hoping to never have to tell you this but she admits, “I was going to set you up with him before he got with Taylor, but then he went back to LA and next thing we knew he had a girlfriend.” 

The mention of Taylor and the memory of what happened there cracks open a whole other can of worries in your head, but thankfully you don’t have to deal with that today. You keep that buried as you hear the Cook’s front door open and a familiar voice rings out into their house, “Hello.”

Your eyes go wide as you ask, “Is that?”

“Alex, yes.” Your nightmare is confirmed by Jamie as tells you and his wife, “He’s calling round for his guitar that he left the other day.”

You try and hide yourself back into the settee, mumbling, “Fuck my life.”

“Sounds like he did.” Katie smirks, which makes Jamie laugh. You want to die. 

But unfortunately, you can’t call her out on it because Alex walks into the room. Of course, he looks fucking drool worthy and he’s not even trying, jeans, white top, and a mustard cardigan. His hair still at that awkward unruly length where he couldn’t yet style it so he just let it be and god you hate him for looking so good.

He’s smiling when he comes into the room clearly pleased to see his friends but when his eyes drop to you, there’s a certain look in his eye that has your skin erupting in goosebumps. A knowing look that for a brief moment, everything that happened over the weekend floods back to the forefront of both of your minds.

As you’re silently seething at him for looking like a wet dream come to life, your best friend gets up with a big grin on her face and she hugs the singer quickly. 

“Hey, youuu.” She draws out in a way that is so telling, you want the earth to swallow you whole. 

Never in your life did you think Katie Cook would be so fucking shit at being subtle. But apparently when it's best friends involved, subtlety doesn’t exist. 

“Katie.” Alex smiles at her, clearly realising why she was being so over the top. Regardless, he hugs her back before releasing her, and then his eyes land on you and he nods a silent hello and smiles, “Y/N.”

Your smile back at him, and it's clear for everyone to see that you’re a little embarrassed, but that's no surprise when gossip is in the air. If ever they thought you would be a little more reserved, it was certainly in a situation like this. 

“I’ll get you another glass of wine, Y/N.” Katie comes back towards you, which is a little ridiculous considering your glass is quite full from the hearty pour she gave you earlier. Still, she grabs it, then nods at Alex. “I’m assuming you’re driving, Al, so I’ll make you a brew.”

He nods and smiles, “Thanks love.” Katie grins back, before turning towards her husband.

“Jamie,” she demands, “Kitchen now.”

The guitarist isn’t one to go against his wife, so he stands up without a word and follows her into the kitchen. As soon as the door is closed, Alex looks down at you and states, “So… You told Katie then.”

Please God let the earth swallow me whole right this very second. Please… Please… Please… Fucking dick. 

“Couldn’t really keep it from her,” You shrug, defending yourself. After all, it’s entirely your decision who you tell or not. You can feel yourself get all hot and bothered at the subtle mention of it, “She’s my best friend and you work with her husband so I-”

“Don’t look so panicked,” Alex says as he takes the seat next to yours. He tells you, “It’s okay. It’s not a secret.”

As he passes by, you get hit with the now familiar scent of eucalyptus and it throws you right back to being in the shower, him pressing you up against the glass with his fingers inside of you. It hits you all at once making it difficult to think but ultimately you know you have to carry on and not give into what you can only describe as war flashbacks.

You’re about to carry on, “I-” But Alex cuts you off;

“I’m sorry I didn’t call you,” He tells you sincerely. He looks into your eyes as he softly admits, “I’ve been trying to get your number off Jamie for the last two days and he was being a stubborn piece of shit.”

“It’s okay…” You find yourself relaxing as you tell him, “I think he’s about to be ripped a new arsehole for that, so no need for you to go in on him.”

Alex snorts at that, expecting nothing less from Mrs Cook’s wrath. As his laughter subsides though, he takes his phone from his pocket and holds it out to you, “Can I get your number then, please?”

You’re almost shocked for a second, but instead of letting that show, you nod, “Yeah.” You take it from him. 

He lets you navigate your way around the phone until you’re typing the numbers into a new contact. It takes you less than 30 seconds to create your contact, save it and hand it back to him, but he surprises you when he then taps a button and puts the phone to his ear. 

Clearly, you know it’s your phone that’s about to ring, so you raise your eyebrows and ask, “Did you think I’d give you a fake one?” 

It’s no surprise at all that your phone starts buzzing away on the coffee table where you put it down earlier. You don’t even make an attempt to get it, you just watch as Alex smiles almost victoriously and tells you, “Just making sure.” 

Both of you share a smile then, but unfortunately, it only lasts a minute because the married couple comes back in with your drinks. Katie is still grinning like she's just won the lottery when she sees the two of you beside each other, “Took my seat, did you, Al?”

“Sorry,” He apologises and goes to stand up, “I can-”

“No, no,” Katie stops him, instead she heading to sit on the other side of the settee, “Stay sat next to your l-

“Do not finish that sentence,” you interrupt, but it’s too late.

She trails off singing, “Loverrr.”

Never before have you wished you could die but it looks like now's the time. Fucks sake. 

Alex presses his lips together, finding this a little too funny even though he shouldn’t. He doesn’t mind her taking the piss a little. It wasn’t like he ever told her he was interested in her best friend before, so he guesses this is to be expected. It’s something he needs to take on the chin. Your reaction however, he finds hilarious.

“I hate you,” You frown, rightfully demanding, “Give me my wine.” Your hand reaches out expectantly.

And thank Christ she’s poured you a large glass, because you definitely need it. As soon as it’s in your hand, you take a long sip of it, needing it as a coping mechanism at this point. 

You don’t care if they are all looking at you, you just need the wine. Who would have ever thought this would be a Monday night? You’re certainly going to regret this tomorrow, but you can’t bring yourself to care at this moment. 

“So…” Katie trails off, still grinning. She's now sitting beside Jamie on the other side of the corner settee, so you can’t even kick her.

Alex repeats, “So…”

But you're still looking at your best friend and you hate the way she’s smiling like the Cheshire Cat. You warn her,  “Stop grinning, you’re making me so uncomfortable.” 

“But there’s much to smile about.” She teases, looking at you and Alex and getting even more excited. 

“Stop it.” You tell her, reaching across and managing to slightly kick her shin. She fakes a gasp as the lads laugh. 

“Who knew you were so feisty.”

Jamie smirks, adding to the jokes because he can’t help himself, “Alex might have some insight on that now.” Alex takes a sip of his brew that his mate previously handed him so he doesn’t give away any reaction to that.

You don’t have quite the same reaction. Instead, you threaten him, “Imma ram your guitar up your arse if you don’t close your mouth.”

Katie sees her opportunity to joke and takes it without a second thought, “Ooo, kinky.”

It makes Jamie laugh and Alex can’t hold his chuckle. You just end up closing your eyes, wishing they would just give you a break. This time, you choose not to respond to it, instead taking another long sip of your wine. 

The next five minutes are filled with subtle hints that you don't rise to, and thankfully a normal conversation ends up seeping back in. You don’t nearly speak up as often as you usually would. Although that could be down to the wine, you know it’s because you’re biting your tongue so you don’t accidentally get more jokes thrown your way. 

You’re happy slowly drinking your wine and people watching how the three of them play into their dynamic. It's clear they have been friends for so long, and it’s really endearing to see how comfortable they are together. It makes you all the more glad to have Katie in your life, someone who makes you feel so at ease and gently pushes your boundaries from time to time, but it ultimately makes you closer.

You're so lost in your thoughts that you don’t really pay much attention to the conversation at all. In fact, you couldn’t tell any of them what it was about, but you didn’t exactly mind until Katie realises you’ve been mostly silent for a while now and she can’t help but tease you again. 

“Nothing to add, Y/N/N?” Your best friend asks you, and when you tune back in and realise you’ve got no clue what they are on about, you just press your lips together and gently shake your head. You would hope it’d get you off the hook for not listening, but you’re not so lucky. 

Instead it makes Katie’s smile grow, and she has the opportunity to lightheartedly tease again, “Cat got your tongue? Or is your throat sore?” 

It takes everything in you not to spontaneously combust, because you’re sure you could with how hot your cheeks immediately go. You make sure you avoid all eye contact with Alex so you can get your response out, “Ride on that, slut.” You accompany it with your middle finger.

“Come on, lighten up.” She laughs, “Jesus, who knew you could be this quiet with enough wine?” Your best friend jokes, and your lips tug up into a smile when she continues, “Is this a miracle?”

Jamie knows his wife is just trying to include you in the conversation again, so he chips in on the joke and adds, “Should I check if pigs are flying outside?”

“Nice to finally get a word in.” Alex chuckles in jest, looking from you with a smile and back to Katie and Jamie who are already giggling too. 

His comment feels like a bullet to the chest though and the smile instantly falls from your face. It makes you remember him telling you to be quiet in bed with him, and again now. It makes you want to curl up into a ball and disappear. It's not your fault you’re a chatty person or if you nervously ramble, it makes you feel so insecure and that’s not how you want to feel on top of everything tonight.

You release a short sigh and mumble under your breath, “Like you ever talked to me before you wanted to fuck me.” You take a sip of your wine and focus on the happy couple across from you. 

In your peripherals, you see the singer's head snap back to look at you, but you pay him no attention after that comment. You still just want to disappear into the settee though, especially after that comment. 

Thankfully the Cook’s have continued on with their little jokes and have paid you no attention. Jamie turns back from looking out of the window and tells you like it’s breaking news, “No flying pigs, must mean you’re okay?”

“Mmm,” You hum, taking another sip of your wine like you believe that’s the only reason you’re well. Playing up to it, you ask, “What was the topic of conversation?”

Now, when Katie sees an opportunity, she rarely doesn’t take it. So you’ve pretty much lined it up for her when she lies and says, “We were discussing if mirror sex, choking, or dirty talk is most advantageous to encourage a woman to climax? Care to share your view?”

And with that, you’re gone. 

“Right.” You down your wine then, feeling your cheeks go uncharted hot in embarrassment, and you stand up in protest, announcing, “I’m walking home.” 

Looking at the clock you see it’s almost 10 anyway and you have to be up early for work, so it’s best you head out of this mad house sooner rather than later. And it will give you a break from having fun poked at you.

Katie starts manically laughing at that, and Jamie chuckles. Alex does too, but he can’t help but offer, “I’ll drive you.”

“It’s fine,” you brush him off, not needing the extra awkwardness that a journey home with him would entail. That, and you don’t want to be a burden to him. “I can walk.”

“I literally drive past your house.” Alex turns to you. He insists, “I’ll drive you.”

“Okay,” you give in, knowing you’ll feel safer and it’s fucking freezing out. “Thank you.”

He smiles at you then and you just about smile back, before you turn and go to get your coat

“Ever the gentleman, Alexander.” Katie smiles and just as you're about to leave the room, she stops you and stands up, “Y/N, a word please.”

You suppress your sigh, abandoning your mission to get your coat and get out to head into the kitchen with your best friend. As soon as the door is closed, you wish you never bothered though. 

“What are you wearing under here?” Katie grins, spinning you around so she can get her hands on the bottom of your hoodie. She tries to lift it up as she asks, “Do you need to change into something sexy real quick?” 

“I’m not shagging him tonight, Katie.” You say seriously, but you can’t stop laughing as you pull your hoodie back down, “Stop.” 

“Come onnnnn.” She whines, but giggles again when she starts trying to get at you again. 

“Katie,” You warn her again, pushing her off you and you can’t help but laugh and yell, “Jamie! Get your wife off me!”

Thankfully, your hero Jamie Cook comes to your rescue and when he’s in the room she lets you go. As you make your way out, you briefly brush past Alex who’s heading into the kitchen with the empty mugs he and Jamie had. 

You look at the ground, not daring to look at him after the shite your best friend has just been spouting. You head towards the front door with Jamie in tow behind you. Once the mugs are in the sink, Alex is about to head back towards the lounge to grab his jacket, but Katie gets his attention instead.

“Al, despite what you’ve just seen me do, don’t tease her.” Katie tells him quietly, being serious for a second when she says, “She doesn’t like to be teased.”

He raises his eyebrows and tells your best friend, “I beg to differ.” You definitely like to be teased, both verbally and physically. 

Katie has to mute the laugh that she wants to let out, because she needs to be serious when she tells him, “In this setting, dipshit. Don’t tease her. Don’t make her overthink it.”

“She’s overthinking what?” He frowns a little, not understanding what you could be worried about when everything was out in the open and it wasn’t a secret. 

“Nothing yet.” Katie doesn’t spill all your secrets. She thinks it's best to let you settle for a while now after knowing it wasn’t on purpose that he didn’t call. But she needs Alex to know, “But if you tease her, she will. Be gentle.”

Alex has to press his lips together for a second to try not to smile, because he knows all too well you don’t like it gentle either. He tells your best friend, “You’re making it difficult not to make jokes.” 

“Just give her an easy time of it. I can get away with stuff, but she still doesn’t know you or your humour very well.” She raises her eyebrows when she says, “And you certainly don’t know hers.” 

Alex begs to differ though, “I think we’re quite similar, are we not?”

“That’s something you should be finding out for yourself.” She pats his cheek a few times, and she grins when she says, “You picked a gooden, darling, you just got to not fuck whatever it is up.” But all of that means nothing without the threat of, “Or you’ll have me to answer to.”

And Christ if that isn’t warning enough, Alex doesn’t know what is.

~*~*~*~

“You’re being weird.” Alex finally says. 

You’ve been alone in the car with him for two long awkwardly silent minutes. Looking out of the passenger window like the roads were the most interesting thing in the world in effort to not have to communicate with the singer. 

This time you’re singing a Sam Fender song in your head to bypass the time, trying and failing not to feel disgustingly awkward around him. But you can feel the tension in the air. You can feel the way his eyes keep lingering on you, the way he wants to initiate a conversation but is waiting for you to. Good luck to him. After that comment earlier, you certainly won’t be doing that. 

Clearly he feels the atmosphere between you as well. The ‘you’re being weird’ was entirely unprompted considering you’re just sitting in his car, rubbing your hands slightly in your lap because of the cold. 

“No, I’m not.” You glance at him a little shocked he even said anything. 

“You are,” Alex tells you, glancing at you and when his eyes find yours, you can see they are knowing ones. After you look away from him, he asks, “Do you regret it?”

“No, I-” You pause before deciding to be entirely honest, but it makes your cheeks hot when you admit, “I really don’t.”

It makes Alex very happy hearing that, but it doesn’t explain your behaviour, so he presses on, “Then why are you being quiet?” 

“Because I don’t want to annoy you.” You say quietly, still not really wanting to look at him again. 

“You don’t annoy me, Y/N.” Alex assures you as he looks over at you again before turning the corner at the junction. 

You frown at that, your head snapping back to look at him when you begin to argue, “But you said-”

“I was joking, sweet,” Alex interrupts, not wanting you to feel uncomfortable around him at all. He manages to look at you as he says with a cheeky smile, “It’s endearing when you run your mouth, even more so when you can't keep quiet in bed.”

The mention of it has your body flashing with heat. You have to stop yourself from shuddering at the thought. You warn him, looking away embarrassed, “Not helping.” 

Alex laughs a little at that, but he wants you to open up with him, so he asks again in a chirpy tone, “What’s up? Come on, tell me.” 

“I just- I’m in my head about it a bit.” Trying to explain as best you can, you continue, “Thought I’d really fucked things between me and Katie when you didn’t call… And I know it’s not your fault, I should have just given you my number, but the way you said it made it sound like you already had it. I was panicking thinking I can never be in same room as you and t-” You catch yourself, hearing how you must sound so you stop and sigh, “I'm rambling again.” 

“It’s cute.” Alex smiles almost wishing he wasn’t driving so he could study your reactions.

“It’s not cute,” You shake your head, smiling a little when you admit, “I was ready to bin your albums.” 

Alex’s jaw drops hearing that, and he sees you already looking at him when he asks, “You were going to bin my music?” 

You nod, confirming it’s the truth, “Puppets albums, too. Maybe even Miles’ from the association.” 

“Terrible.” He chuckles, unable to stop smiling as he turns the corner onto your road. 

Thankfully after that, the last 30 seconds of the journey to yours is a silent but comfortable one. You’re a little surprised he remembers your house number as he pulls up exactly outside it, but as you’re taking your seatbelt off and Alex pulls the handbrake up, there’s an expectant air between you where you both clearly want to say what’s whirring around your minds. 

You’re silently talking yourself up. Just do it, Y/N. Ask him. Ask what he wants. Ask if he wants you again. Tell him your conditions. Come on, do it. Don’t be a pussy and do it. 

Do. It.

Before you scare yourself out of saying it, you blurt out, “Do you want to fuck me again?” But at the same time Alex asks, “Can I take you out?”

Alex answers you before you can even really process what he asked, “Yes.”

“Well you’re not going to until you get to know me better.” You give your ultimatum, “I need to feel comfortable around you so if you want this,” You gesture between the two of you, “To continue for a while, we need to get to know each other.”

You don’t want it to seem like you’re asking for a relationship out of him, because you’re really not. All you want is to not act so awkwardly around him all the time. You don’t want to be the nervous rambling girl he fucked once upon a time, you want to be entirely yourself. You want him to know you properly. Experience you at your very best. 

“So I’ll ask again,” Alex smiles, not having an issue with your proposal at all, “Can I take you out?” 

You grin back, trying to ignore the way he’s looking at you makes you want to melt. You agree, “Yeah, when and where?” 

“Tomorrow night?” Alex suggests, “Could just come to mine and we can talk? Start off small and go from there?” 

“I think we’d both just fuck again if we did that.” You say honestly, “Need to go out somewhere to start with.” 

You just know you’d cave if he started teasing you again. You feel all gooey at the thought of it now, and it’s not like you don’t want him to touch you again, but you need to set that boundary for yourself. And you’re thankful Alex seems to be willing to work with you. But not without making your squirm somehow. 

“Is it the worst thing if we fucked again?” Alex grins, and it’s a cheeky one. A smile that makes your heart race.  

“No,” You admit, “But I’d like to feel comfortable enough around you to not be nervous all the time.” 

Alex nods understanding entirely. He didn’t really expect you to be okay with just fucking him and then leaving it until the next time. He knew some work would have to be done in between and getting to know you really isn’t a hardship for him. That would be trying to let himself open up to you. 

“Okay well, what about the cinema?” Alex thinks out loud. 

“I’m not one to not watch a film so if you’re suggesting that so we can just get off with each other in the back like teenagers in American films, that won’t work for you either.” You prewarn him.

“Believe it or not, Y/N,” the singer starts, incapable of not grinning. Of course you would think he’d try to start something in a cinema. He assures you, “I really like watching films, so I’d be sharing popcorn with you and that’s about it.” 

You smile, liking the sound of that, but curiosity gets the better of you, “Sweet or salted?”

“Salted.” Alex tells you.

And that makes you gasp. No one else you know likes salted popcorn. You’re always forced to eat sweet all the time when you’re out with your friends or family.  

“Thank god someone else likes salted popcorn!” You say rather excitedly, already practically tasting it on your tongue. It makes you all the more excited for tomorrow now. 

It makes Alex all the more enamoured by you. And he can’t help but think it's rather funny that you seem very excited by the thought of salted popcorn when he now associates you with sweet. 

“When do you want to go?” Alex inquires. 

You think about it for a second before you realise it doesn’t matter too much, “I finish work at half four, so anytime after five.”

Alex nods, knowing that works for him completely fine. It’s not that he has any work to do considering he’s not due back out on tour until way into the new year. He can work around you entirely, and he hopes that you can make the most of each other's company until then. 

But then he realises he doesn’t know maybe one of the most obvious things he should know about you. He asks curiously, “Where do you work?”

“At the high school that’s like ten minutes away.” You tell him and you can see the surprise fill his features.

“You’re a teacher?” Alex asks with clearly shocked eyes, and when you nod, he looks even more shocked, following up with, “What do you teach?”

You shake your head, finding this a little too funny. He knows how to make you cum but he doesn’t know what you teach. This is so backwards it’s difficult not to laugh, “This is why I need you to get to know me.” 

“You’re letting me take you out on a school night,” Alex realises, sarcastically adding, “Scandalous.”

“Shut up.” You playfully roll your eyes, before you tell him off in true teacher fashion, “And I’m not impressed with you anyway.”

The singer smiles, “Why, sweet?” 

Trying not to get all flushed at the nickname, you scorn him, “You gave me a massive fucking love bite on my neck, and now I’ve got to wear a fucking scarf whilst I’m teaching.” 

Alex chuckles, but he stops himself to say a quick, “Sorry.”

“No, you’re not.” You narrow your eyes.

“You’re right,” He lets his smile shine straight through now, admitting, “I’m not.”

You tut at that, still trying to be serious when you truthfully tell him, “I had to go out and buy turtlenecks earlier.” 

“It’s the weather for it at least.” Alex smiles, not finding a bone in his body that makes him regret ever leaving a mark on you. He would make them all again given the chance. “I’m sure no one would notice” 

“In what world.” You ask, moving the collar of your hoodie so he can see the mark he gave you. 

And Alex’s lips tingle and his dick twitches at the sight of it. It’s so prominent on your skin, easy for anyone to see that someone had claimed you as their own in the heat of the moment. He doesn’t blame you for covering it, but Christ he wants to make more of them. 

Despite him seeing how bad his mark is, he plays it off like you could have gotten away with it, “I’m sure the kids wouldn’t have noticed.” 

“I teach sixth formers.” You tell him, “They definitely would have and they’d have called me out on it, too.”

“Oh dear.” Alex chuckles, and he promises you with a playful smirk, “Scouts honour I’ll leave one you can hide next time.” 

“One track mind.” You chuckle and shake your head before opening the door and getting out of the car, “Good night, Alex.” 

“Wait a second.” Alex laughs, winding his window down so he can catch your attention again.

“What?” You ask as you step onto the pavement and lean down so you can continue to speak to him. 

“You never told me what you teach.” Alex says as you lower yourself to his height again.

You smile at the fact he even wanted to know. But you don’t hesitate to tell him, “I teach economics.”

“That’s interesting.” Alex hums, his gaze subtly falling to your lips with you being back in such close proximity to him. 

You hum in agreement, “It is.” knowing what he’s doing but choosing not to pursue that right now. 

When his brown eyes look back up and meet your pretty ones, Alex smiles when you say, “Thanks for the lift.”

“Anytime.” The singer grins, “Night, Y/N/N.” 

You smile and maybe it’s liquid courage that makes you lean in to kiss his cheek, but you don’t regret it for a second, “Night, tax evader. See you tomorrow.” 

~*~*~*~*~*~

Over the past fortnight, you and Alex saw each other a handful of times. Two of which you were out with your friends and three times it was just you and him. The first was the cinema like you agreed on which went very well. 

The two of you stopped at a nearby restaurant to get some food before the showing where you found out a fair amount about each other. Thankfully, nothing put you off him in the slightest and with the way you were both quietly giggling and chatting at the comedic moments the film had and still after it finished when he drove you home, you like to think that he had a good time with you as well. 

Nothing happened that night, nor did it on Friday night when he took you out again. This time it was a stand up open mic night he took you to and it was a lot of fun. Again, you felt a lot more comfortable with him, so many less awkward moments than there were when he first picked you up earlier in the week.

Alex couldn’t help but find your nervous rambling endearing though, but with them you always had something interesting to say which sparked up more conversation between you. The singer kept making mental notes of your likes and dislikes and you found that you got on incredibly well and you had a lot in common, just like he previously guessed you would. 

Saturday night followed and per tradition, you and Katie had your wine night at hers, this time joined by Kelly and Kirsten. Yes, you were teased quite a bit by them when they found out, but thankfully when the boys came back from their night at the pub slightly earlier than expected, you weren’t teased when they joined you. 

Instead, the alcohol had loosened your lips and you were very engaged in the conversations going on. There were brief moments when you lost yourself though and they were down to Alex. 

You would catch him looking at you, and the looks were nowhere near friendly like he would glance at the other girls. There was something behind them and he made that clear with the way his eyes would fall to your tits or to your lips. Subtle clearly wasn’t his forte when he was horny and tipsy. 

All of that just increased the sexual tension between you though, which you guess couldn’t hurt if you were to eventually use each other again. Something that as the days went on, you silently prayed for. 

Wednesday ended up being a random night out for you all. It was Kelly’s night with the kids and she invited the Cooks out to go bowling after school, something which you and Alex ended up being invited to so you could fill up the extra spots they were paying for. 

It turned out to be a good game, the kids enjoying themselves which was the most important thing, but it was also fun because you and Alex had a little competition going. When Alex guttered his second ball and he caught you snorting at his mistake, you ended up playing to try and beat no one else but him. 

It was fun, the way you could feel his eyes on you as you threw the ball. And when you’d turn back after each shot, whether it was a good one or not, he would always be looking at you with a smirk. You think he liked that you gave him pretty much all of your attention, but you didn’t even try to hide how happy it makes you in the moment. 

Unfortunately, you ended up losing your little rivalry by a measly 5 points. Alex acted like it’s a 50 points defeat, rubbing it in. You poked his side which made him jump to try and teach him a lesson, but it just made him chuckle. He threw his arm over your shoulder as all of you walked out of the bowling alley. 

Friday night rolled around again and the big group of you went out to a bar together. The way you and Alex were around each other that night made it difficult to keep to your ultimatum. 

Despite knowing him a lot better, you still hadn’t touched each other since your first night together. Yes there were lingering touches, the brush of his fingers on your skin that lit a fire inside you, but nothing more. That night, however, was more than just lust-filled longing glances at each other. 

As soon as there was a hint of alcohol in both of your systems, Alex barely left your side. You always had his hand either lingering around your back in an effort to keep you close or resting his palm over your jeans-covered thigh. Sometimes, he would squeeze you to keep you on your toes. He certainly had your heart racing.

It was difficult to keep your mind from wandering, but you’re only human. You allowed yourself to ever so slightly lean into his touch on occasion, let him press you against his body and subtly flirt back with him both physically and verbally. But even when you bid each other goodbye that night, you didn’t even get a kiss, which left you needy and wanting him after he’d been such a tease all evening. 

Wine night was again the following day, this time it was just you and Katie. You couldn’t get the feelings from the previous night out of your head still. He felt like an itch you couldn’t scratch as you weren’t really aware of the protocol between you, especially since Alex had been the one to arrange your previous encounters. 

Thankfully, tonight Alex had messaged you on the off chance you were free. Since you were doing nothing but spinning your LPs, you agreed to let him whisk you away to an impromptu dinner. It was nice, nothing out of the ordinary now, just the both of you sharing more stories about your lives over a few drinks before you suggested finishing the bottle of wine that you bought for the table back at your house. 

The energy between you tonight was nothing short of electric. Every longing glance between you felt like a bullet striking you. God, was he good at looking at you like he wanted to devour you. He was able to flick the switch between friendly to flirty in such a natural and smooth way that he always took you by surprise. Forever giving you goosebumps, making you press your thighs together, and heating your cheeks. 

You’d been back at yours for about half an hour when Alex got up to search for another record to put on. He settled for an old French album he hadn’t long since discovered which he was surprised to find stacked on your shelf. Again, he complimented your taste and collection. 

His praise still made you feel all gooey inside which mixed with the alcohol was stirring up more sinful desires in you. It only got worse when he spotted tarot cards on your shelf beside a few of your ornaments. It made Alex tease you a little more before he fully realised that you found that sort of stuff quite interesting.  

The singer came and sat beside you, even closer than before, as you explained it to him. And despite you knowing he wasn’t retaining any information, the smile he had on that pretty face of his kept you talking at him. He couldn’t help but grin a little more when you mentioned that you can read palms too. 

“You can read palms?” He asks, all wide-eyed and disbelieved.

“Yeah, it’s really easy.” You grab his hand that’s closest to you to show him what you mean. “See, you have five main lines on your palm: Life, Head, Heart, Fate, and Sun.” You trace each one as you go. 

“The life line, despite what you may already think, doesn't mean how long you’re gonna live. It can mean a bunch of different things like big changes in your life or good genes. People also think that if it’s a bit straighter on some people's hands it can mean you’re more cautious when it comes to relationships.” You say as you let your finger trail up the line that starts from the base of his palm up and around the ball of his thumb.

“The head line is about your knowledge and creativity, so if it's straighter on some people it means they tend to think more realistically. A curved line can mean you're more artsy and creative too.” You smile, seeing that his head line is a little curved, matching what he’s like in life. After that you move on to the line that runs just under the bottom of his fingers, “The heart line is to do with romance and emotional stability, so like yours is short and curved so that tends to mean someone is more private about relationships and stuff which makes sense considering you’re a private person.”

Alex can’t help but mostly watch you as he listens to you tell him about your little hobby. He finds it funny that you know all of this stuff, but he finds himself entranced as he can’t stop looking at your lips as you’re sitting so close to him. He wants them on his own again, the kisses on the cheek when you were saying goodbye to each other the last few times he’d seen you weren’t enough. He’s so enamoured he almost forgets to look at the lines you’re showing him.

“Fate line is how likely you are to follow certain paths in your life. And the sun line means different things for everyone, depending on how prominent it is.” You explain, glancing at him still smiling away as you continue, “Yours is deep and that means you’re successful and it's theorised that you can get famous from it which I guess is right in your case. Mine is quite clear and that means I have good taste in literature and art.”

Alex can’t help but quietly tease, “And you’ve only got good taste in that because it’s written on your palm then, not because you actually have a fully functioning brain and can appreciate masterpieces for what they are?”

“It’s all just a bit of fun, Al. It’s interesting!” You laugh but you have to defend yourself. 

“Very interesting how you know all about it.” Alex grins, loving the way he has all of your attention when he jokes, “Is there a delusional line that I should look out for?”

“Okay,” You fake a pout, but then you remember what you found in his car on the way home from the cinema, “I don’t tease you because you still have Match Attack cards from when you were a teenager.”

“Hey,” He gasps, ready to defend himself in an instant, “My Mum gave me them back, it's not something I still do.”

And you know this. When you saw the files of them on the backseat of his car, you questioned him on them and he told you his Mum found them and gave them back to him. But that’s currently your only leverage so you use it against him. 

“Regardless,” You raise your eyebrows, a smile playing on your lips, “Still just as nerdy.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay.” Alex rolls his eyes and holds his hand out to you, “Let me see your palm then. Let me try and read you.”

You try and fail not to let your smile show as big as you want as you hold your palm out to him. The singer shuffles even closer to you, so your thighs and shoulders are pressed together and you're cosy beside each other. 

He lets a finger trail down your palm as he asks, “Remind me where the delusional line is?” 

You scoff, pulling your hand from his and flipping two fingers up at him, “It's here.” 

The singer laughs loudly at that then before gently grabbing your hand and opening it back up to focus on your palm. He traces the lines there gently and it sets your skin ablaze, tingles running though your skin. 

He looks at your hand so intently for about 10 seconds before gently humming, “Hmmm, interesting.”

“Why?” You ask, a smile growing on your lips as you ask, “What are you thinking?”

He tells you, “I’m seeing quite a lot.”

“Oh, you’re seeing it?” You grin, playing along.  

“Of course,” The singer looks at you, his eyes full of playfulness, “I’m a professional.”

You nod, trying not to laugh, “Of course.”

Eyes back on your palm, you try not to think about the way his touch makes you almost shiver. But then you start focusing on his hands. 

Those hands that made you come undone so easily. Those fingers that had been inside you and made you feel things you hadn’t felt from anyone other than yourself for the longest time. The thought makes your breath shallow and your thighs press that little bit closer together. 

“Wow,” Alex continues, “I can see this really clear.”

You ask, your cheeks starting to hurt from grinning for so long, “Really?

“What?” Alex looks at you again, he makes you feel hot under his gaze when he asks, “You don't believe me?”

“No, I do,” You lie without hesitation, loving how playful this feels, “I’m just curious about your professional opinion.”

“Well,” Alex smirks and then glances at you out of the corner of his eye, “You're in luck because I can see it all right now.”

“Right.” You nod, a little giggle falling from your lips too. 

Alex loves hearing it and knowing he’s the cause of it. Even the way you bite your lip to stop yourself from laughing so you can carry on playing along, he finds it adorable. But he doesn’t stop; he carries on, loving the way you react to him. 

“Wow, oh wow.” Alex drops his jaw, pretending to be completely enthralled in reading your palm. Now he nods, “Yeah, that's really clear.”

You smile, full of curiosity, “What is?”

“I’m seeing,” Alex looks up from your palm with a smile playing on his lips, and tells you confidently, “That you’re going to fuck a rockstar.” 

It takes everything in you not to laugh. All you can do is tilt your head and ask him with your lips twitching up, “Is that so?” 

“Yeah…” Alex nods, intertwining your fingers with his now and he gives you a little tug to encourage you closer, “I’m happy to oblige, if you’d like that?”

You don’t hesitate to move where he wants you, even closer when you move so you’re straddling his lap and Alex’s free hand finds your hip and he pulls you that bit closer before letting his thumb run over your skin that's showing from the way your top has ridden up. 

You’re smirking at each other, knowing exactly where this is headed now. The tension of the night building has hit its peak and this is it.

“You seem very confident about this reading.” You grin.

Alex’s smirk only grows at that, but this time he leans in so he can whisper as his lips brush up your neck towards your ear, “It’s written on your palm, I’m just offering you my body here.”

You hum at that, letting your free hand move to the back of his neck and up so your fingers could root through his hair. What you don’t expect is that when you give it a small tug so you could see him as you spoke to him, it causes the man that's under you to grip your hip tighter and buck up into you. You gasp at the friction. 

Alex moves back from your neck after leaving a gentle kiss there, and he’s smirking when you say breathlessly, “I’m getting the sense that you only wanted me to read your palm so you could tell me that really shit pick up line.”

“Can’t be that shit if you’re in my lap, sweet.” Alex raises his eyebrows cockily at you, a devilish grin playing on his lips.

And God, you want to kiss it off. So much so that you narrow your eyes and say, “Oh, shut up,” before your lips hungrily find his.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

A/N: Really hope you enjoyed this one! I know I did!!! How do we fancy a lil jealousy from both of them thrown into the next one. Let me know what you want to see and I'll see if i can make it happen! Thanks so much for reading and again while you wait for me, please go and read my other Alex fic @nriacc or @alovesreadings fic Constant Repeat. Enjoyyyyy x

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[imaginesheaven]

Reader x TF 141 x Alex – Being Alex’s twin headcanons

Disclaimer: Doesn’t quite follow the story of the campaign missions of MW and MWII.

Warnings: Curse words? I have no idea *haha*

 Being twins with Alex is the best thing that ever happened to both of you. Since you can remember you always have each other’s back and that fact will never change. He is your best friend and you are his for the rest of your lives.

Alex being a smug and teasing you that you are actually five minutes younger than him. Referring to himself as your older brother. You roll your eyes at him grinning.

“You might be older, but I got the good looks and intelligence~”

Laswell would never admit it out loud, but is more than glad to have you both as a dream team on missions. If it gets complicated she can be sure that you two will sort it out discretely to her satisfaction.

Your reputation made round on the home base very quickly. Since you and Alex tend to work either alone or only the two of you together the other soldiers keep their respectfully distance. Mostly of them are just too scared to embarrass themselves in front of the two of you making small talk.  

“This is a dangerous mission. I will give you my two best soldiers. Of course, under the radar”, Laswell offers Price as she hands out mission files, “Get the twins!”

“No need to yell, Laswell. We can hear you very loud and clear”, you reply grinning as you make your way towards her and Price with Alex by your side. Both of you are already prepared with all you might need for the mission.

Captain Price heard a ton of good talk about the two of you. If he would want two soldiers by his side fighting it would be you and Alex. One day he will get you two on his team. “(Y/N), Alex. Nice to see you two still alive.”

Gaz can’t believe his eyes as you stand in front of him. Words spread like fire around the base so he knows a lot of stories about the Keller twins. He can feel the nervousness pooling in his body hoping he wouldn’t make a fool out of him.

“That’s Sergeant Kyle Garrick”, Price introduces you since the young soldier can’t a single word out. “Nice to meet you”, you reply grinning giving him a wink making his knees weak.

“Got your back, Kyle”, saving Gaz’s ass non-stop and making him blush every single time. Price enjoying what friendships grows between the two of you, but would never admit it. Just rolls his eyes, “Kids, stop playing.”

Being flirty with all the soldiers is a kind of hobby of yours. You just love how the toughest men and women get weak knees and stumble over their words in your presence.  

Your tactic for missions is mostly the same routine. Alex has your back from the distance with a good sniper rifle, while you stir up the hornets’ nest with your beloved shot gun.

During missions Alex and you love to roast each other with counting how many kills you get. “I just saved your sweet little ass out there”, you can almost hear the grin on Alex’ lips. “Easy to say, when you keep your shitty ass out of the fight. Come down into this chaos then we can talk”, you reply taking another enemy out.

“Hey, Alex. Got your eyes on me? Look at that”, giving him the stinky finger laughing. Alex shaking his head grinning looking at you through the scope, “Very mature.”

Sometimes the two of you argue which of you are actually the unplanned kid since your parents did definitely not sign up for double trouble twins like you are.

You would also tease him so hardcore because his crush on Farah. It doesn’t take your twin skills to sense that there is more going on between them than just friendship. You wouldn’t even need words just grinning at him wiggling your eyebrows seductively at the worst moments ever.

“So… You and Farah?” – “… Shut up, (Y/N).”

Being multitalented like you definitely have its perks since you love how everyone underestimates you at first.

“Shit, a bomb and only two minutes to disarm it”, Alex’ eyebrows furrow in light panic. Grinning you roll up your sleeves, “Fucking finally. Thought I could never use this skill.” Farah and Alex staring at you in disbelief as you defuse the bomb without even a single problem.

Since you and Alex don’t see each other sometimes for months you always have enough time to learn something new to bring him out of his coolness during moments like this one.

“You are such a show-off”, your brother rolls his eyes and lets out a big sigh. This earns you the full respect of Farah. She had no idea what an amazing soldier and fighter you are.

Captain Price keeps asking you every single time you have a mission together to join his new Task Force 141. You feel honored, but decline as always with, “I am not quite ready yet.”

Until the day Alex goes M.I.A.

“Either you tell (Y/N) what’s going on or I will”, the mention of your name peaks your interest as you follow the rather loud voices. “This is none of your business! The twins are under my commando and I will do what’s best for them”, Laswell has actually no idea what the best will be for you and Alex.

“What the hell is going on?”, since they are talking about you it is your right to bring yourself into this conversation. The well-known feeling of anxiety hangs onto your shoulders. Something feels very off.

“I’ll wait outside, kiddo”, Price’s heart breaks for you as he leaves you alone with Laswell. It is you right to know what happened to your twin brother, even if it might break your spirit.

“Alex is missing. We don’t even know if he’s still alive”, Laswell tells you with no ounce of sympathy. It’s like she wants to rip of the band-aid as fast as possible. You know if there would be a chance to search for him she would have send you out already. Sometimes you despise to work under the radar.

Without a word you end the conversation and leave the room behind. Price waits outside for you like promised, “Kiddo.” You really appreciate him being there for you, but right now you only want to be alone.

“I am here if you need something”, Price lets you know as you keep walking. “Never saw you in the father role but it suits you”, Laswell folds her arms in front of her chest. She never had the connection to her soldiers like Price does and Laswell knows exactly she just lost you and your skills to Price.

It takes weeks for you alone crying and trying to get back into being a soldier. You even took it onto yourself to tell your parents that Alex will probably be announced dead in a few months. It breaks your heart to see them devasted like you are, but it’s still better that they hear it from you instead from Laswell.

You hate yourself that it isn’t you who went missing. Alex was the better one of you in everything even if you always act confident. So, how should you go on with your life without him?

Fortunately, the Task Force 141 would never give you up. Since you work often together on missions they kind of turned into a second family next to your own family and Alex.

“What a nice surprise”, Price greets you smirking as you enter his office. “Captain, I’m ready to join the Task Force 141”, you can’t be on your own anymore. You need the team as your back-up to find peace once again.

“You are more than welcome, kiddo.”

Since you celebrated the holidays with your family and Alex when you weren’t on a mission, you couldn’t come back home alone. So, you just seduced the team to go with you. Let me tell you it’s chaos, but in the end good chaos.

Your parents are not happy about you bringing random soldiers home with you. They still mourn Alex like you do, but life goes on. The awkwardness shifts into pure bliss within a few days.

The whole team including you help out on the farm with your father. It’s what you and Alex did every time you get home. You all bring life back into their life.

Your mother loves to cook for all of you. The boys can’t help but enjoy to be cared for a few days.

And you can’t get over the fact that Gaz is actually scared of the goats. He wouldn’t even get near to feed them. “Have you an idea how brutal they can be?!”, Kyle tries to explain. The rest of the team just laughs about his behavior.

Soap knows how to drive a tractor, but dear lord! He is actually an awful driver and would destroy everything on his path. “Get off, Soap. This is madness!”

None of the men would admit but they are more than happy to get back home with you for the holidays again.

Of course, they can’t replace Alex, but they are also your family now.

[star-girl69]

Hi, I love your work! Your Jake x Reader x Neytiri is a master peace!! I was wondering if I could request a polly Jake x Reader x Neytiri where Neteyam is still a baby and reader is so scared to screw up because she’s not bio mom like Neytiri but is obviously very active in his life as a third parent and Jake and Neytiri reassure her that she’s doing a good job. If you don’t want to write it I totally understand I know it’s kinda of a weird request but if you do write it thank you so much!!! Again I love your writing have a good day/night. 💜

Nothing to Him

Jake Sully x Neytiri x Fem!Reader

a/n: sorry this took me forever to get out! this is kinda shit but i hope you all enjoy!!

warning: insecurity, mentions of pregnancy, crying, hurt/comfort, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

Neytiri knows what each of Neteyam’s cries mean.

She is the only one who can decipher them, like they’re some unknown puzzle, and only she has the pieces.

And here you are, perfectly capable- in theory- and yet you don’t know. They all sound the same to you. Sure, the volume changes, and sometimes he is simply screaming more than crying, but still- you don’t know what it means.

But Neytiri knows.

Neytiri carried him, Neytiri gave birth to him. He carrie’s Jake’s genes in him, and he carries nothing from you. You are simply there, not even in the body you were born in.

You feel like an imposter. Like you are simply there, simply a placeholder until something better comes along. You are nothing to Neteyam.

—-

“Come, Y/N,” Neytiri says, slinging a bag over her shoulder.

“Where?” you frown, looking up from the fruit you’re cutting.

She rolls her eyes. “The river? To give Neteyam a bath?” She smiles kindly at you, holds her hand out for you to take- but Jake is already at the threshold of your tent, cooing down at Neteyam in his arms.

“N-no,” you say suddenly. “You guys go- I’m kinda tired.”

“Oh. Okay,” you ignore Neytiri’s frown, her lingering. She wants you to change your mind, you realize, to come with them. But you won’t.

They are simply so happy together, so perfect, so meant for each other, you can’t ruin their perfect little bubble. It would be cruel of you, no?

Besides, you don’t know his cries, he prefers Neytiri and Jake over you. He would probably squirm so much in your grip you would drop him.

That is what being a good mother is, you rationalize. Doing what’s best for your child. And you are not best for Neteyam.

—-

“Why did she not come?”

Leaves crunch under their feet, like bones, like hearts. And that’s what Neytiri’s heart is doing- breaking.

Slowly, at least. Not in half, or anything. Just slowly chipping away, piece by piece, moment by moment.

“What do you mean?” Jake shoots her a look, fingers of Neteyam’s tummy, making him squirm. “She said she was tired?”

“Yes…”

He smiles, chuckles a little. “Then she’s tired, my love.”

“This is only the third bath we have given him,” Neytiri argues, the water now in sight. “This is special. She should be here.”

She has to look away when Jake places a hand on her shoulder, understanding in his eyes, softness in his touch.

“There will be more,” he whispers.

She nods, but she doesn’t believe him.

She knows the world turns fast, that there is an end to each day, an eclipse. She knows that time is never promised. And she knows that her Y/N wouldn’t miss this. They had talked so much when she was pregnant, everything they would do, how much Neteyam would be loved.

And then he comes, perfect and sweet, and she pulls away? Neytiri doesn’t believe that she is just tired. Neytiri knows her Y/N, Sees her, loves her. And she knows this isn’t her.

—-

Neytiri’s eyes flick from between the baby in her arms to the boiling pot over the fire.

She could ask Y/N to stir it, but she wants her to know that Neteyam is as much hers as he is Neytiri’s.

“Can you hold him?” she whispers, shifting the sweet boy in her arms, forcing Y/N to put down the beads in her hands.

“Oh-”

But Neytiri will not take no for an answer- Neytiri will see her family together, happy and loving.

“It’s alright,” she whispers, to the both of them maybe, but she sees the stiffness in Y/N, the unsureness. She still holds Neteyam perfectly, holds him like a mother should. And she is a mother, and she does.

But it simply seems like- like she does not want to hold him. Like she is scared of it.

“You saw that,” Neytiri hisses.

Jake meets her eyes, slowly flicking from her to Y/N.

“Yeah, but-”

“No. No, something is wrong.”

He sighs. “I… uh, yeah. Yeah, there is.”

—-

“Something is wrong.”

Their bed has felt like this for a few weeks, cold, like something is taking up the extra space and expanding, pushing them apart.

Your back is pressed against Jake’s side, limp and cold, even though he is so warm.

It is Neytiri who speaks, hand reaching over to your shoulder, while Jake’s arm curls above your head on the bed, preventing you from shifting, from trying to get away.

You paint on a smile, even though they can’t see it. It’s for you, you to force yourself to pretend it’s all fine.

You have this fantasy that maybe you can simply fade away, let them be the perfect family. You are the black sheep, the odd one out. You are nothing to Neteyam- even when you think he is so sweet, so perfect. And that is why you have to pull away- so he can stay sweet and perfect. You’ll only mess him up.

“What do you mean?”

“You.” Her hand squeezes. “You have been… off. What is wrong, my Y/N?”

Your heart squeezes, a million warning signs going off in your mind, alarms blaring. “Nothing,” you hum, pretending to yawn. “I’m tired-”

“Don’t lie,” she pleads, and you still love her, of course you do, so the emotion in her voice makes your heart squeeze again.

“I- I’m not.”

“My Y/N…” she sighs, fingers digging until she’s tugging you onto your other side.

“It’s nothing!” you say and shrug her off, perhaps a little too loud, because Neteyam stirs from his sleeping nest a few paces away. The three of you let out a breath when he stays asleep. “Sorry,” you mutter, feeling horrible and horrible and more like nothing to him.

“Come on, sweetheart,” Jake whispers, and his hand curls to brush the top of your head. “Tell us what’s wrong, babygirl,”

And you do love them, you love them so much, and hearing them call you theirs, hearing them call you such sweet names, their skin soft on yours. You fell for them and you fell hard, you fell that consuming and reckless way. Like you threw yourself off of something, with only the chance of water below.

But you had fallen and you had fallen good, into their arms, into their lives, and you thanked Eywa and whatever force was out there for it everyday.

But- they were so happy, so perfect together. Everything you had ever dreamed of, the three of them, happy and loving. It was right in front of you and it hurt not to be apart of it.

But you didn’t know what Neteyam’s cries mean. You didn’t carry him. He has nothing from you.

You are nothing to him.

But for this one moment, maybe they do still love you-

“I’m nothing to him,” you say, and you faintly realize you’re crying. “I’m nothing to him.”

“Oh, my Y/N,” Neytiri croons, helping you to rollover.

“Let it out, baby, let it out,” Jake whispers, letting you muffle your cries into his chest. “What’s wrong? What’s wrong?”

“I’m nothing to him,” you say again, louder this time, clearer, so they can hear you.

“To who?” Neytiri asks, hand in your hair.

“Neteyam,” you breathe, his name like a promise, like a prayer. A wisp of something you’ll never know. “I’m nothing to Neteyam,”

Neytiri’s hand stops, and Jake stiffens underneath you, and your mind races, and you pull yourself up.

Wiping the tears off your face roughly, “I’m sorry. Sorry, sorry. I’ll-”

“No.” Neytiri says, grabbing your hand, tugging it to her lips. “You’re his mother. Why-”

You scoff, disgust in your throat, something hard in your heart.

“No. I did nothing for him- I didn’t carry him, not like you, he carries nothing from me-”

“That shit doesn’t matter,” Jake says, grabbing you by your biceps, shaking you when you can’t look him in the eyes. “Look at me. That doesn’t matter- it doesn’t. You’re ours, our mate, and that is our son. All of us- that’s our son.”

“But-”

“Blood doesn’t matter,” Neytiri whispers. “He will grow up, and he will know you as a mother. That what he will carry with him- your love. And that is what matters, isn’t it?”

You shake your head, and Neytiri sighs, moving away from you while Jake tries to tilt your chin up, until Neytiri’s hand is at your shoulder again.

“Take him,” she whispers, shoving him into your arms while you cry and try to refuse- “It’s okay, it’s okay,”

And you have to screw your eyes shut, pretend it’s not happening, terrified he’ll squirm away or fall out of your arms. Just terrified you’re not good enough.

Suddenly, there’s silence, and Jake’s hands on your face, forcing your chin to your chest, to look down-

“Open your eyes, my Y/N” Neytiri whispers, hands over yours on Neteyam, warm and comforting, lips by your ear.

And you do, because you love them, and Neteyam looks up at you blankly, eyes open, hand reaching out to your face.

“Look,” Neytiri says, soft, so only the three of you can hear. “He’s reaching for you,”

“He’s reaching for you,” Jake agrees, and you nod.

“He’s reaching for me.”

—-

[in-need-of-gally-content]

|Chapter•Twenty•One|

•|Masterlist|•

Days in the Glade went by, and soon, two weeks had passed since Lucas' threat, and (M/n) no longer cared about that, mostly because he kind of forgot about the whole ordeal.

Lucas had completely stopped talking to him, he didn't flirt and not even a single Slopper bothered him anymore, which was suspicious a while back, but now? (M/n) was grateful for that.

His bruises were completely gone and he had been enjoying his time in the Glade like he never thought he would be able to. His book collection grew with a few more books, they got sent some more clothing and he spent his days with Gally.

(M/n) was sure he couldn't have a bigger crush on him than he already had, but every day he was proven wrong, he could love Gally more, and it was scary sometimes, although he couldn't say he disliked how he felt whenever he saw Gally from afar or nearby, maybe simply just talked to him or heard his voice. It felt nice, and (M/n) got used to living day by day with the giddy and nervous feeling in his chest and tummy every time anything Gally-related occurred within witnessing range.

Some time the past week, (M/n) had a little talk with Gally regarding the incident of him getting beaten up. Alby had been helping Gally find the culprits of his attack, when (M/n) told him to simply forget about it, which upset Gally deeply.

"What do you mean just forget about it? (M/n), you were attacked, thankfully they were just bruises, but what if it wasn't? What if it was something more serious?" (M/n) could understand where Gally was coming from, and sometimes he also had those kinds of fleeting thoughts, and he didn't like to think about how the situation could've turned out to be worst if Newt hadn't shown up, but it wasn't like that, and Gally had to understand his point as well.

"Just listen, okay? If they think they are safe from punishment, just because we actively stop looking for them, they will lower their guard and probably slip up again," Gally frowned and crossed his arms over his chest, he didn't like to admit it but (M/n) had a point. But it would be most likely at his expense that they would lower their guard.

The Sloppers were pretty damn good at protecting each other, they would fight with nails and teeth for anyone of them, they were like an iron wall. Unbreakable. Only for a short while though.

"We just have to be patient and wait, alright? Believe me, I wanna beat the shit out of them too, big guy," he patted Gally's shoulders and started walking out of the blond's room, "But now is not the time."

And that settled it.

Besides, they had other stuff to focus on. Like the new greenie coming up the next day.

//////

-Greenie Day-

With the new shank coming up later in the day, a fair amount of Gladers had come to realize how similar (M/n) had become to Gally in the past two months he'd been around.

He looked tough at first glance, having picked up on a few of Gally's habits, like frowning and crossing his arms whenever he was standing alone with nothing to do or waiting. It didn't help that (M/n) had grown a few inches and was taller than half the Glade now, but was still shorter than Gally.

However, all that tough demeanour would fade away whenever he was with his friends, making them feel glad and relieved that everything was just a mask to protect himself from anyone that might want to stir his waters and cause problems, and they watched how, at the end of every day, (M/n) went back to being the same idiot they knew and loved so, so much.

(M/n) sighed as he walked out of the Homestead, a cup of cold water in hand, and he watched around the Glade, making his way to the swing. Lunchtime had already passed and they were waiting for the Box to come up, in the meantime, they had to keep themselves busy.

"(M/n)," he turned around at the call of his name, seeing Billy walking his way, a slight yet obvious limp on his right leg. (M/n) frowned, feeling a little worried about him.

"Hey, you okay, man? What happened?" Billy looked down at his leg, trying to ignore the fluttering of his heart at the thought of (M/n) caring about his wellbeing.

"I had some trouble..." He hesitated, unsure whether he should tell the truth and look like an idiot, or act as if it was no big deal, "Well, it's nothing serious, but Clint told me I should rest, so I can't help with the Box today."

(M/n) nodded, trying to understand where Billy was going with this, "So, you want me to...?"

At that, Billy looked up at him again as he seemed to catch onto what (M/n) wanted to ask.

"Right! Could you... Take my spot unloading the Box? Just for today," he hurried to add, shifting in place and hissing at the pressure on his ankle.

"Yeah, sure, no problem," (M/n) answered as he stood up, walking toward Billy and getting closer to him, unknowingly making the Keeper nervous, "First, let me help you, or you won't be getting better any time soon, come on," he wrapped his arm around Billy's middle, having his arm over (M/n)'s shoulders, and he helped him sit down on the swing, "I can take you to your room later, if you want."

Billy was having a hard time finding his voice to speak, so he simply nodded in complete silence.

(M/n) sighed and pushed his hair back, "I should go tell Gally-"

"Oh, he already knows," he hurried to add before (M/n) could leave. He stared at Billy with a 'really?' expression on his face, "Yeah, he... He was the one who said you could take my spot."

A smile tried to find its way to (M/n)'s face, but he held it back as the sound of the Box coming up filled the Glade, "Well, gotta go!"

Billy watched as (M/n) ran toward the rest standing around the Box while they got ready for its arrival. It was pretty common for the whole Glade to gather around when it was greenie day so, slowly but surely, one by one began approaching.

(M/n) watched the mechanical door open, and he pulled open the metal gate that kept the Box closed along with Gally's help. The blond jumped in first on his own, used to having to calm down the greenies and show them that they shouldn't fight him.

"Alright, greenie, let's stay calm, okay? We're not gonna hurt you," Gally's voice was rough but somehow reassuring, it made it seem like he was lying but he just had to appear tough and strong to prevent them from freaking out, and hold them back if they began throwing punches.

A guy with very short and straight dirty blond hair stood there, he seemed to be kind of on the shorter side but he had some muscle, the tank top he wore hugged his torso rather tightly. A deep frown had settled on his brow, looking up at everyone and glaring at Gally with bright, almost yellowish eyes, a few freckles dusted his skin. He looked kind of scary.

"Where are we?" A voice behind the greenie could be heard, and the Glade observed how another boy walked up from behind him.

This guy had blond, almost white wavy hair, pushed back to reveal a thin, sad-looking face. His hazel eyes looked tired and about done with everything, with few freckles on his cheeks and nose, barely visible as they hid behind his tanned skin. He got close to Gally's height, but much more skinny, like an easily breakable stick. And the aura around him was a more kind and gentle one.

These two, were twins.

(M/n) was confused but when he looked around at the others, he saw that they were chill about the ordeal.

"You'll find that out soon enough, come on," Gally helped both of them get out the Box, Fry and Newt taking them away toward the Homestead, "(M/n)," he turned toward Gally, who was staring up at him from the Box, "We have work to do, come down."

And he just remembered what he was doing there.

(M/n) jumped down inside the Box, feeling odd at the realization that he had been in there only the day he came up to the Glade, and that was a weird thought.

"Ready?" He nodded and they began unloading the supplies.

Despite his mind telling him to ask Gally about the twin greenies, he stayed silent, only mumbling where the crates and bags he lifted belonged to when he handed them to the rest of the guys. And soon, they were done getting everything out, now they had to get each other out of the Box.

Mikah leaned down to hold (M/n)'s hands, pulling him up, "Thanks," he whispered as he regained his balance and turned around, reaching his hand toward Gally.

The blond looked up at him and saw that (M/n) was determined to help him out, causing a smile to pull the corner of his lips up and he shook his head, accepting the help. It wasn't news around the Glade that Gally only accepted (M/n)'s help without complaining, but it was still odd to see him take anyone's help, he was usually too prideful for that.

Quickly, they started picking up something each and began taking it where it needed to go, being done pretty quickly, seeing as the rest of the Gladers would grab the stuff and put it away, leaving the Builders and Baggers with nothing else to do.

(M/n) sighed and wiped the sweat off of his forehead, completely unaware of Billy's stare locked onto him, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt and sighing deeply every few seconds.

He turned to look at Gally who had just finished drinking water out of his bottle and absentmindedly passed it over to (M/n), who silently grabbed it and took a few sips.

"No one seemed surprised about the greenie...s," he added after a second of realization, and Gally nodded, sitting on the grass under the shade of a tree. They were relatively close to the Homestead.

"Yeah... It's not the first time we get twins sent up here, but it's... Been a while since it happened, almost two years I think," (M/n) sat down next to him and began playing with the grass.

"Who were they?" He whispered after quickly realizing that he hadn't seen twins around in the Glade, so he came to the easiest conclusion. They were scrapped off the wall.

Gally looked at him, something similar to nostalgia and anger swimming in his green eyes, "Nick and Chris, they were... The original Leaders of the Glade."

All (M/n) did was nod, he didn't know if the topic was sensitive to Gally so he decided to not push it unless the blond wanted to say anything. Which he didn't. He silently drank more water and sighed, looking far into the distance of the Glade.

However, the sight of a hurt and far-off Gally made his mind overthink, (M/n) wanted to be there with him- for him whenever he needed someone by his side, and... Maybe if he couldn't get the words out to put Gally's mind at rest, he could provide some reassurance.

Slowly, he reached his hand out toward Gally's, gently and carefully linking their pinkies together, and immediately looking away, wanting to ignore the warmth he felt crawling up his neck and face. Surprised at the sudden yet small action, Gally glanced down at (M/n)'s pinky holding onto his, and couldn't hold his smile back.

He looked away like (M/n) did, before moving his hand around to hold (M/n)'s hand, intertwining their fingers.

Their hearts fluttered and their bodies heated up, falling into a comfortable silence, enjoying the feeling of the gentle breeze against their sweaty skin.

//////

As the previous greenie, Lucas was assigned to show the new guys around, and Zachary was around to help -apparently, they've become besties by now-, and they were busy getting another hammock ready since they weren't expecting twins the day before.

And, as expected, they started asking stuff, which Lucas was glad to answer.

He explained to them where they were, and showed them around plenty for them to get used to the new environment they found themselves in. Said something brief about the dangerous Maze they were surrounded by, and who were the coolest Gladers to spend their time with.

"And... What about her?" Lucas and Zachary looked over their shoulder, staring at (M/n) as he talked with Gally, laughing and smiling widely. Lucas felt disgusted. And angry, deeply upset.

"Oh, you don't want to get involved with that, trust me," as if waiting for this moment to arrive, Stan approached them, Peter and Jason following behind him, "These two, great guys by the way, were trying to help her out when she fell on a bunch of crap, only to get attacked with the gardening tool on her hands, claiming that they were harassing her."

"She did get punished for that in the end, although no one believed our side of the story," Jason added, acting hurt at the lack of trust from those he considered "friends", and Peter nodded.

"She did this to me, and still, no one believed us," Peter made a dramatic show of showing the scar on his neck. It was true that he got wounded by (M/n), but not in the way they were narrating them.

"Then she picked a fight with Stan," Zachary decided to join in, sitting on the newly placed hammock, "She was so scared to lose in front of everyone that she sent her playtoys to beat him up."

Stan acted as if that had wounded him deeply, emotionally and physically, "I still won the fight, even if my body was covered in bruises and cuts."

"She's just full of herself," Lucas muttered, a venomous tone taking over his voice, "She has everyone fooled with her little act, always so high and mighty," the Sloppers exchanged looks between them before staring at the twins, who were frowning and looking toward (M/n). Seeing how he was laughing made it almost hard to believe, but they didn't know any better, "Always boasting about how she's better than everyone else, and how she has these so-called 'friends' of her... Eating out of the palm of her hand."

The look on the greenies was all they had to see to know they made it.

They had succeeded. They had planted the seed of hatred and disgust inside the twins.

It was only a matter of time before they would start treating (M/n) like he deserved to be treated.

Like a mere toy they could use and dispose of whenever they felt like it.

//////

The next few hours that passed, (M/n) couldn't shake the feeling of being watched, but he decided to completely ignore it, too used by now to the glares and comments thrown his way, simply choosing to stay focused on getting the bonfire ready.

Every now and then, a few of the guys would walk past and hype him up, asking if he was gonna fight Gally at all, to which he smirked and nodded.

"You know I will, and I'm planning to win," he would respond all cocky, but a with playful smile on his face, making eye contact with Gally, who stared at him with a 'you wish' expression on his face, "Well, winning is the plan."

His friends would laugh and cheer him up before leaving to help around whoever needed it, or simply sat around on the logs and chilled for a while.

And when the sun finally set, disappearing behind the Walls, the cheering began. (M/n) drank Gally's drink as he vibed to the music the guys were playing, enjoying his time with his friends.

"Alright, bean, it's time," Gally called out next to him, setting his drink down as he got up from the ground, extending his hand toward (M/n) to grab.

He smiled at the nickname he was given by Gally. While everyone referred to him by his name, and others -such as Fry- still called him 'greenbean', Gally decided to call him 'bean' instead of 'dummy', or well... Most of the time anyway. He was Dummy (M/n) only a few days of the week, which he didn't mind, as long as Gally was the one coming up with nicknames for him.

"Get ready to lose, Gally," he responded as he stood, loud cheering could be heard from everyone as they watched them approach the fight circle. Gally chuckled and fixed his wrist brace, like he always did before a fight.

"Let's get on with it then."

As always, their fight was pretty even, and everyone got to see how they would constantly try to one-up each other with a move, despite the whole thing being a nice fifty-fifty situation, all eyes around were hooked on them, too scared to even blink in case they would miss the crucial attack that could decide the winner.

Everything was fun and laughs around, and in the end, (M/n) ended up being the one pushed out of the circle, although barely... He had gotten distracted by Gally's smile and forgot what he was doing, but who could blame him anyway?

"Well, good luck next time, bean," as it had become a habit, Gally messed (M/n)'s hair, "You're getting there, I'm sure you'll beat me soon."

Gally turned around and encouraged the cheering.

And (M/n) took the loud volume of the Glade to his advantage, "Would've won if you weren't so pretty..." He mumbled while pushing his hair back.

They were planning on going back to eating or simply messing around, when Gally caught sight of the twins, watching them gossip with one another as they looked at (M/n), a look on their faces he did not like. Again? He thought, feeling extremely mad at how no one could let (M/n) live his life peacefully without the drama that seemed to constantly gather around him.

"Hey, twinnies!" His voice boomed over the sound of everyone's excitement, and the twins flinched at the sound of Gally's voice, "What do you say? Wanna fight us?" He walked to stand next to next to (M/n), who was just a little bit confused about the situation.

"Gally?" He didn't react, his green eyes stared at the greenies, mentally thanking everyone that began chanting 'twinnies' over and over again, getting louder and louder.

"You can pick who you wanna fight, if that would make it fairer for you," he added when the twins looked at each other, unsure of their decision, but with that, they agreed, "Alright, pick."

With his arms crossed, Gally watched how the buffest twin stood in front of (M/n), standing shorter than the (h/c) haired male by a couple of inches. And with that, Gally was left with the scrawny twin.

"Great, we're going first," (M/n) nodded and walked backwards to stand outside the circle, Mikah and Xan on either side of him, and they watched the fight as it started.

Far behind the sea of heads, (M/n) could see the Sloppers making their way over, intrigued by the fight going on at the moment, but he ignored them to stare at Gally, refusing to admit -even to himself- he was heavily staring at the way his muscles flexed with every move he did.

"You should take a picture..." Mikah leaned closer to whisper in his ear, making him flinch, "It'll last longer."

(M/n) rolled his eyes, pretending like his face wasn't getting hotter by the second, but he decided to be cheeky this time around, "I already have enough, Mikah, believe me."

The curly-haired blond was caught off-guard by (M/n)'s comment, and he looked at him, his blue eyes staring at him in disbelief.

"Bold..." (M/n) couldn't help but cackle at that, catching pretty much everyone's attention, including Gally and the scrawny twin.

Gally felt an involuntary grin grow on his face and how the greenie's hold became weaker and loose, so he took advantage of that, securing his grip and throwing him out of the circle.

He stood there, looming over everyone, "I win," he uttered, proceeding to make his way to (M/n), who was bouncing in place to get ready for his turn, "Beat his ass, bean," the ruffle to his (curly/wavy/straight) hair worked to encourage him, so he huffed and stepped inside, watching the buffer yet shorter twin find his spot in front of him.

"I don't like the idea of hurting a girl," his words caused others to 'ooh' out loud, making (M/n) nod with a look on his face that read 'yeah, sounds fair' as he approached the greenie.

He patted his shoulder a few times and leaned closer to him, "You won't," he responded before swiftly kicking the greenie's ankles, making him lose his balance and fall back to the sand. (M/n) paced around him, his groans of pain muffled by the yelling and hype of those surrounding them, "Come on, greenie, we're not done yet."

Gally watched with crossed arms and a proud smile on his face, how (M/n) dodged the greenie's attacks, sometimes even mockingly, smiling and chuckling to himself. He would act as if he had been successfully outsmarted and outmuscled, only to prove everyone wrong, that it was all pure tactics.

(M/n) had come a long way, and Gally was really proud of him, of course he would be.

By now, the greenie was getting mad along with embarrassed, knowing everyone was watching him fail miserably as he was beaten by a girl. He could've surrendered, but what was the point of that? It would only prove to the rest that he had no pride whatsoever. He couldn't give up.

He looked up and saw (M/n) smiling wide as he paced around the circle, waiting for him to stand up, which he did, shaking his body a little.

"About time, I was getting bored-"

With a deep breath, the greenie approached (M/n), quick on his feet as his hand closed tightly, drawing his arm back before rushing his fist forward. (M/n) couldn't react in time before he got punched in the face, but he managed to keep himself on his feet despite stumbling back a few steps.

An eerily silence followed, the screaming completely stopping as they processed what just happened.

(M/n) rubbed his jaw, feeling the sharp pain shoot through it, he would have a nasty bruise in the morning but he didn't care about that right now. He was mad. He tried to be playful and lighthearted about the whole fight, but now? He wasn't gonna let the greenie feel like he had won over him.

Never in a million years would he let that happen.

"That was a bad move, shank."

The greenie had a cocky look on his face, which was soon erased when he felt (M/n)'s kick on his gut, pushing him back against the wall of Gladers and causing him to kneel to the ground. He tried to hold back, but he ended up throwing up the dinner he had just eaten a little while ago.

He saw out of the corner of his eye, through tears, how (M/n) slowly approached him, and he instinctively backed away, "I give, I give," he mumbled, quite audible in the silence of the Glade.

(M/n) looked down at him, but backed away and nodded at his surrender, and soon after the ambience went back to hyped.

Gally grabbed (M/n)'s arm and dragged him away from the circle, where the rest of the guys decided to have their own fun in matches more even, feeling happy about being able to win for once instead of constantly losing against Gally. (M/n) looked at the blond with a confused frown, deciding to stay quiet as he was taken away to the Homestead.

Without saying a word, Gally entered the kitchen and opened the fridge, rummaging around for a while until he found a frozen food package, and silently pressed it against the purple bruise forming on (M/n)'s chin.

He flinched at the pain and cold feeling, realizing why he was taken there, and he playfully rolled his eyes with a chuckle, "Hey~, I'm fine, big guy, it's just a bruise."

Gally sighed and stared into (M/n)'s eyes, immediately noticing the soft look in them as he looked up at him, silently reassuring him that he was fine, nothing he couldn't handle.

"Even if you are, let me do this or it'll get worse," (M/n) nodded and hummed in response.

"Fair enough."

They stood in the kitchen for a few minutes, staying in a comfortable silence as they basked in the sounds of the Glade. They were standing pretty close together since Gally refused to let (M/n) hold the ice to his face, even if Gally's hand was going numb at the cold feeling.

"I'm hungry," (M/n) suddenly broke the silence with a whisper, followed by the sound of his stomach growling, making them laugh at how angry it sounded.

"Yeah, I'm too," Gally pulled the package away and inspected the bruise for a couple of seconds, "Looks better for now, let's go."

[themurderofcrowscollective]

The Witch in The Woods

(Call of Duty modern magic au thing) - - - In today's age, overtaken by the grasp of social media and modernity, one would hear the word 'magic' and think it be only a fantasy. Little do they know there has been a new beginning to a new era, beginning at a slow and steady pace. You are already aware of this, as you are one of the few witches who live in secrecy, hidden in the dark forest which bends to your will through your connection to nature. You rarely walk out of your home, a nice homely cottage in the denser and thicker deep parts of the forest. You're what the children call 'The Witch in The Woods', believed to be evil and your intentions to be of the malicious type. Most believe you're a myth, but no one can penetrate the barrier of large trees keeping your home hidden and tucked away from all of society. No one bothers you, you do summon portals to travel to the nearest town for ingredients or groceries but you only use your disguises to not garner any attention to your messy and curly white hair, your strange clothing and your peculiar purple eyes. No one knows you either, as each day you change up your disguises to keep people off your trail and to stop them from trying to befriend you or talk to you. You enjoy your solitude despite living with crows and owls, who you call your children. Today starts off like every other day, with you waking up by hearing the cawing of one of your crows. You softly pat his head to stop the repetitive cawing before sitting up with a yawn, keeping your blanket clinging to your shoulders when you get up and shuffle your way out of your room and into your kitchen. Despite the dark shade your hidden home is in, you still get enough sunlight to shine through your windows. In your kitchen, a few baby owlets chirp happily to you as a large snowy owl stands next to the stovetop with a spatula in claw. There's already eggs and bacon being fried, as well as potatoes, which you're grateful for. You grab your favorite coffee cup and pour yourself some coffee already brewed, snapping your fingers to summon forth the sugar from the counter and the milk from the fridge. A different crow with a blue ribbon on it's left leg flies in from the window, holding a single envelope in it's beak. " Ah, good morning Sylvia. " Sylvia caws a bit happily when you take the envelope and give her some scratches underneath her beak. Sitting down with a spoon magically stirring your coffee, you open up the envelope and take out a letter, folding it open. " That widowed bride from two years ago wrote back, huh. 'Dear friend, thank you very much for the love potion! I know it's been a while since we've last spoken but all is well here, I've gotten a new lover (well, lovers) and we've all moved in together! Much love, your friend Doreen.' " You smile warmly as you set the letter down, letting a baby crow take it and flap away to your study. Taking a sip and snapping your fingers, you summon a plate to float towards the eggs, potatoes and bacon after the white owl hoots at you. It serves the food onto the plate, the drawer magically opening and a fork floating up. " Thank you Finn, could you check in with the ravens outside? In case we have another visitor? " Finn the white owl salutes with one wing, taking off through the open window. " Thank you! " You proceed to eat with your phone floating above your food, videos playing. Once you're finished and you put your plate in the sink, Finn flies back in quickly and communicates through a series of hooting. You stop moving when he does, looking at him while you listen. " Oh shit. "

[nhstadler]

A/N: I hope you’re up for some moody James S. P.. I actually wrote this bit before I wrote the scene in James’s bedroom on New Year’s Eve. I needed to figure out his motivation and thoughts and I can only do that by writing stuff down.

I did make some adjustments because there were some things in there that would have been spoilers for the main story. It’s a bit messy but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. (This takes place at the end of chapter 26)

W H I T E S   A N D   G R E Y S   A N D   P A L E   B L U E S

The glass is cold against my skin. It’s not exactly pleasant, but there is some comfort in it; in the blur of whites and greys and pale blues that passes by the window, like one of those depressing oil paintings Aunt Hermione spends hours in front at the British Museum. I watch the colours bleed into each other as the train picks up speed, taking us through mountains and valleys and forests - through the middle of nowhere. 

I’m not used to this; to having no control over myself - over whatever it is that she’s doing to me - and it’s absolutely terrifying. I fell off my broom once when I was thirteen, practising the surf-jump in our backyard, and I remember that, even as I knew I was going to hit the ground and that it was going to hurt, I wasn’t afraid. 

I broke four bones and Lilly was crying and Mum was shouting and Dad was freaking out and I still wasn’t afraid. But Seth Woodley scares the shit out of me.

Maybe it’s a good thing that she hates me now.

“Yo, James!” 

A paper ball hits my chest and I turn my head away from the window, letting it fall against the upholstered backrest. We’re only one hour into the journey and our compartment is already a mess; bits of crisps and wrapping papers coat the floor and a random snitch is hovering above our heads, thunking stupidly against the glass in regular intervals like it might yet escape. It’s annoying and I wonder how Augustus can sleep like this. He has rolled up into a tight ball in the corner as soon as we were out of London, only stirring occasionally to pull up his coat which he has draped over himself like a make-shift blanket.

“So?” Benji asks like I’m supposed to know what he’s talking about, and I frown at him as I try to pretend that I haven’t just been staring out the window like a brooding teenage vampire.

“What?”

“That Ravenclaw sixth year.” He’s slouched down in his seat, sorting out his static hair and barely registering that Freddie almost chokes on his mouthful of cola. "Are you a thing?”

It’s an innocent enough question - casual, really - but it feels like my heart spasms for a moment when I think about the crumpled red dress on the floor; about Seth in my bed. “No.”

Freddie makes a throaty sort of noise next to me but I fully ignore him. He doesn’t push it, though, because he knows. Because I can’t do this. Because she didn’t mean it. Not really. 

I thought she might. For a delusional moment I let myself believe that she might actually want me. But she was drunk and upset and her family just told her that they’d found her a husband. I’m a fucking plot device, nothing more. 

“Why?”

Benji shrugs, then yawns and sinks still deeper into his seat before pulling a chocolate frog box out of his pocket. “Just curious. She’s fit, though.” 

I watch him idly unwrap the sweet that wriggles ferociously in his grasp and then pop it into his mouth before studying the card that fell out of the packaging.

“I’ve got your Dad. Again,” he says, flipping the card around in his hand so that I can see the image. The slightly younger version of Dad frowns at me, arms crossed in front of his chest and wand in hand. I can vaguely remember how they had him dress up for this in fancy robes and how proud I was that my dad was going to be on the chocolate frog cards.

“Oh, give me that.” Freddie leans across the compartment, snatching the card from Benji’s hand, and I frown at him. It’s not like Dad isn’t in every second of these.

“What for?”

“I’ve been collecting them.” He shrugs, the usual mischievous grin in place. “I’m making a collage for Uncle Harry’s birthday… to hang up in his office.”

He’s not even joking and I snort and shake my head as he carefully slides the card between the pages of his Divination book. “Oh, he’ll love that.”

The train rattles and the snitch bumps against the roof of the compartment like a disoriented bird. There’s fog outside now, clinging to the soft curves of the hilly landscape, and I let my head drop back against the window again, trying to focus on the view. I don’t want to think about her anymore; about the phone box, and her freckles, and what it did to me when she called me James. 

This just won’t end well. For neither of us.

Freddie’s shoulder bumps softly against mine and I turn my head to look at him. Across from us, Benji has fallen asleep as well with his arms crossed in front of him and the empty chocolate frog wrapper on his stomach.

“Do you know what I think?” Freddie whispers and I roll my eyes at him because, of course, I know. He’s been relentless ever since I told him about almost kissing Seth at Slughorn’s Christmas party.

“I do. And you’re wrong.”

“I rarely am,” he says, shrugging, and I snort and shake my head. 

“Bullshit.” My voice comes out a little too loud and Augustus stirs in his foetal position, almost falling off the seat.

“Then say it.” 

“What?” I try to laugh but it sounds fake, even to my own ears, and Freddie sighs.

“Mate, look me in the eye and tell me that you’re not in love with Seth Woodley.”

I’m shaking my head again, but I can’t look at Freddie. Instead, I look up at the snitch which has resumed its futile fight against the window, tapping the glass in a steady rhythm now. It’s pathetic, really. And a little sad. 

“This is ridiculous.”

“Is it?” Freddie arches an eyebrow at me but I ignore him. Because this is complete nonsense. Because he doesn’t understand. Because I’m not in love with Woodley.

I’m not. 

I can’t be.

“Fuck this,” I growl and push myself up, catching the dumb snitch in mid-air before it can throw itself against the glass again. It’s still flapping in my palm - frantically - its silver wings scratching my skin like a feral cat, and I press my fingers against it a little harder until it finally gives up. Until it goes completely still.

[mountswhore]

Could you write this “I’m not leaving. Ever.” With mason ( I have no idea for this sorry )

𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 — mason mount

summary: after receiving your first nasty dm, mason comforts you.

notes: requests are CLOSED + this is short.

And I am surprised he is still with you, to be honest.

You had read the dm for the millionth time that day, whilst stirring a pot of sauce for dinner. You'd received this long, hateful message two days ago, and have managed to keep it from Mason for this long. He could tell you were pretty downcast, and you had shrugged it off as your period, but he could tell something was happening. Although, he was never one to push you for anything.

This message was a person. A person who had seen enough of you to decide they didn't like you, especially not with Mason, and wanted to tear you down. You thought you could handle it, you had told Mason you would be fine after going public. And he believed you. But you weren't as strong as you thought, as you had read this message for so long that you could recite it without your phone.

"Smells good," Mason crept up behind you, kissing your jaw and squeezing your sides. You had locked your phone quick enough for him to not see anything, and you continued to stir the sauce. Mason hadn't been at work for the last few days, as he was enjoying his time off with you. But he'd be back to work tomorrow.

"Hey, how was your game?" You asked, shifting the conversation into something you know you can talk about. It was your favourite pastime, along with Mason.

"It was good, at first. Then I started getting maps like Superstore, and Shipment, and it went to shit," Mason spoke, "it's like in Tank Factory when everyone camps the same hallway, I'm so fucking glad I didn't get that map." You laughed at him, squeezing the hand that held yours.

"Just admit you can't play in a fast-paced environment like Shipment," you joked back, and he had given you a false hurt expression.

"That's not fair, it's like every time I spawn, I die."

You felt you were getting good at hiding your feelings, pretending you didn't just receive the worst message of your life just two days prior.

Mason had gone back to his games room after spending some time with you, and he knew something was up. He knew you were off, avoiding his gaze and hiding your phone. Of course, people who cheat hide their phone, but he knew you'd never cheat. He has never had a doubt in his mind about that. You were all for him, and he was all for you. But you were hiding your phone for a reason, and he couldn't figure it out yet.

You both spent time away from each other until dinner was made, and you were both sat at the island to eat. Mason had your leg between his, in a leglock, and you would occasionally smile at him. He complimented your dinner, as always, and spoke to you about upcoming matches. Until, he didn't. Until you fell into an awkward silence. Where you were in hiding, and Mason knew you were in hiding.

"What's going on?"

"Hm?"

This was it, it was over now. Mason knew you were off.

"What's going on?" He repeated.

Your breathing had quickened, your heart was beating faster than it ever had, you thought you were going into cardiac arrest. Mason noticed your widened eyes and nervous lip quiver. He'd finally be able to get it out of you.

But instead of talking, you started crying. Mason was quick to ditch his dinner and join you at your side. He was smoothing your hair from your face, trying to pry your hands away from it too. But you were shaking and sobbing, not wanting to talk about it at all.

"Come on, baby. Tell me."

"I don't want you to leave me." You cried, finally pulling your hands from your face and Mason stared at you in confusion. He still held you tight, still smoothing your hair away, but looked both confused and disturbed.

"What makes you think I'm going to leave you?" He asked, and he watched you pull your phone out and click on a few things. Here it was, the reason you were hiding your phone from him. The reason you'd been so off.

He read through the message, his stomach twisting and he felt the need to throw up. He wanted to cry for you. He could not believe someone felt this way about you, the love of his life. He wasn't putting it together, how would this make him want to leave you?

"I don't want you to leave me because I can't handle hate, I'm sorry." You answered, as if you'd read his mind.

"I'm not leaving. Ever." He admitted, kissing your tears away. "Nothing will take me from you, not a shitty message, not the distance I travel for work, nothing. No place, person, or thing will take me away from you." Mason spoke, holding you against him and for a moment, the crushing feeling on your heart had seized.

[queen-haq]

Fic: A Woman Scorned - Part 16

Fic: A Woman Scorned - Part 16

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

Rating: R for language and smut.

Words: ~3100 words.

Summary: You’ve been sleeping with Billy Russo for a few months now. Knowing his aversion to emotional commitments, you’re satisfied with your clandestine arrangement until you catch him having dinner with Dinah Madani one night. Then it finally dawns on you. It’s not that he doesn’t want to commit, he just doesn’t want to commit to *you*.

Billy may think he knows you, but he has no idea what he’s just lost…

Part 1   Part 2   Part 3   Part 4   Part 5   Part 6   Part 7   Part 8   Part 9   Part 10   Part 11   Part 12   Part 13   Part 14  Part 15

gif credit: @benbarnxs

Part 16

You were straddling Billy, riding him, your hips undulating atop his body. His fingers tightly gripped your waist, getting ready to take charge so you were underneath him, but you refused to submit. Instead you grabbed his hands and pinned it above his head. As you hovered above him, he arched up to kiss you but you shifted back, instead staring down at him intently. He growled at you before he rolled over unexpectedly, taking you along with him.

As he thrust into you, harder and rougher each time, you began to slide off the bed. In your new position, you caught sight of Adam on the floor. His corpse was wrapped up in a rug, only his head sticking out-

“Hey.” Billy pulled you up so you were now sitting across his lap, facing him. “Look at me. Only me.”

Only a few seconds ago he was biting you as you clawed at him, both of you desperate to possess each other. Your movements had been savage, animalistic even, but now Billy was kissing you languidly, his hand brushing the back of your hair while the other settled on the small of your back. You were directing the rhythm of the thrusts now, setting a slower pace so you could fully enjoy the feel of his cock stretching your insides oh-so-tantalizingly. Your forehead braced against his, you closed your eyes and lost yourself to the flood of emotions that overcame you.

***

It was after midnight. Billy had come home with you and both of you were in bed, you nestled against him while he spooned you from behind. Even though you were tired, you couldn’t sleep. Your brain was working overtime processing everything that happened in the last few hours. He stirred next to you, dropping a tender kiss on your bare shoulder.

“What’s wrong?” he murmured. You may have been fully alert but he sounded absolutely exhausted.

“Are you sure they’ll be thorough with the cleaning?”

“Yeah.” Throwing his arm over you, he covered your hand with his. “These guys are not amateurs. They know what they’re doing. There won’t be any traces of us left in that room.”

“And Adam’s body-”

“Will be disposed of.”

“But how do you know you can trust these guys? What’s stopping them from blackmailing-”

“’cause money talks, babe. That crew is very well paid.” He squeezed your palm. “I’ve used them in the past. No trouble yet.”

With his military career you were already aware of his violent past, but you also sensed he had a long hit list aside from that. When he’d realized your plans for Adam, he hadn’t been remotely shocked at the idea of you killing another person. In fact, as you stabbed Adam repeatedly, Billy had looked at you with such pride and reverence that it had left you breathless.

“What we did tonight, you know what that means, don’t you?”

His voice brought you out of your reverie. You exhaled a deep breath, drawing circles on his palm. “That we’re bad people.”

“No, we’re survivors. We take down anyone who gets in our way.”

“He didn’t come after you,” you reminded him. “You didn’t have to get involved.”

He turned you around to face him. “Nobody threatens you and gets to live after that.”

Your heart pounded in your chest. When he looked at you with such intensity, you were almost ready to believe anything.

He cradled your face, his thumb caressing your bottom lip. “We’re connected now. Forever. Because of tonight.”

You didn’t understand how his words could evoke such conflicting emotions within you. On one hand your stomach fluttered with excitement, he was saying things you’d wanted to hear for a long time, but then there was the fear. Doubt. Uncertainty. You forced a smile, hoping some levity would lighten the situation. “You make it sound like we’re married or something.”

Disgust flooded over his face. “Fuck, no. Marriages end. One day you’re bragging about being in love, next it’s all over. It’s not based on anything real. But we are.” He reached for your hand, which was resting on the pillow between you and him, and intertwined his fingers through yours. “I saw you tonight, the real you. And you saw me. No pretenses, no boundaries. And you didn’t run. You didn’t even flinch.”

“Neither did you.” You lifted your eyebrow. “You were rock hard.”

“I always am around you.”

His words made the heat rise in your cheeks, which he noticed right away. Giving you a teasing smile, he leaned in closer to give you a peck on the cheek. “Are you blushing?”

“Shut up.”

Billy’s eyes remained locked on you, simply staring at you with sleepy eyes. “I don’t like who I was when I thought I lost you. I couldn’t eat, couldn’t work. Every time I closed my eyes I imagined you fucking this other guy, kissing him. Even the thought of you talking to him made me want to burn it all down.”

Your heart ached at how tired he looked. Scooting closer, you started massaging his forehead. When he closed his eyes, you dropped a gentle kiss on each of his eyelids, the beauty mark just below his right eye, before snuggling him tightly in your arms. “Sleep, Billy.”

“You’ll be here when I wake up?” he murmured drowsily.

You smiled. “It is my apartment.”

He didn’t respond, already fast asleep. You tried to do the same but couldn’t; there were too many thoughts running around in your brain. You had assumed you’d feel guilty about taking a life; you didn’t. You remembered the vicious, contemptuous anger in Adam’s eyes when he’d held you at gunpoint, and how he’d threatened to kill others in your team, and all you felt was relief. Relief that he was dead and no longer a danger to you.

Billy stirred next to you, drawing your attention. You reached out to hold him, your touch feather-light so as not to wake him up. He looked calm and peaceful, unlike the haunted and distraught way he appeared earlier in the hotel room. It was still hard to digest that he’d been so unhinged at the thought of losing you. But the thing that resonated with you the most was that he hadn’t been able to hurt you despite all of the anger he’d felt. Growing up the way you had, you were always on alert for things to turn violent at any moment. One wrong comment or an innocent gesture - hell even a lone pair of sock on the floor - had the potential to trigger your father’s temper and turn things violent. During those moments his rage was uncontrollable, and as a result you always worried about how people reacted when they were furious. The fact that Billy hadn’t hit you even though he’d been completely enraged made you realize you were physically safe with him.

Maybe emotionally as well. For so long you’d had difficulty believing he could reciprocate your feelings yet you couldn’t ignore how devastated he’d been. Nor could you rationalize away his emotions. It still felt surreal but he did truly care about you, and the thought filled you with warmth and made your heart soar with happiness.

You brushed your lips against his, hoping Billy’s comforting presence next to you would help you relax. However, fifteen minutes later sleep still alluded you. Eventually you decided to do something useful and work instead. Carefully sliding out of bed so you didn’t disturb him, you tip-toed out of the bedroom. Immediately you felt the soreness in your body, an after effect of the rough sex you had with Billy in the hotel room earlier. Grabbing a nearby throw, you were soon nestled in your favourite spot on the chaise lounge, working away on your laptop.

An hour later you heard footsteps behind you and you turned around to find Billy yawning, clad in boxers, his hair all ruffled.

“Why aren’t you in bed?” he grumbled.

You scooted over to give him space to sit on the chaise but he seemed to have other ideas in mind as he took a seat behind you. You found yourself settled between his legs, your back nestled against his chest, as he caressed down the length of your arms.

“I couldn’t sleep. Figured I might as well do something useful.”

“What corporate shit are you working on?” he teased, playfully grabbing your laptop to look at your screen. You smacked his arm right away, shutting the screen and pushing the laptop away.

Billy purposely rubbed his face against the base of your neck and you started giggling at the sensation of his prickly beard on your bare skin. “Stop,” you whined. “It tickles.” you squealed loudly, trying to jump out of his arms but he held you in a tight grip.

Finally he stopped, and as you struggled to catch your breath, you slapped his arm playfully. “You’re such a jerk.”

He chuckled, hugging you tightly from behind. “That’s for ignoring all my calls since Tuesday.”

“I’m still not unblocking your number,” you retorted. His beard scraped along your shoulder, making you squeal again. “Okay, fine. Sorry!”

“Swear that you’re not gonna block me again.”

You turned around in his arms, resting on your knees as your arms looped around his neck. Smiling down at him, you nuzzled your nose with his. “Swear that you won’t act like an asshole again.”

“Can’t really do that.”

“Exactly.” He tucked your hair behind your ear. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach at the tender affection on his face, the warmth of his gaze spreading slow, languid heat throughout your body. “You should go back to bed. You still look tired.”

“I’ve had a rough week.”

You pouted your lips. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“Want to make it up to me?” he asked, cocking his eyebrow at you.

”How? By sucking you off?” you teased, running your fingers through his hair.

“Move in with me.”

Your hands stilled on him, finding it hard to breathe all of a sudden. At first you thought he was joking but the solemn expression on his face made you realize otherwise. You moved away, putting much needed distance between the two of you.

“That’s not funny, Billy.”

Maintaining a rigid posture on the chaise lounge, he shrugged his shoulders. “Not meant to be. I’m dead serious.”

“You know that’s ridiculous, right?”

“Why? ‘cause I wanna keep you safe?”

“The threat is gone. I took care of it.”

“We took care of it,” he said pointedly. “A threat which you didn’t even tell me about.”

“I explained that to you already.” Feeling defensive, you started pacing the floor. “You promised you’d have your guy stop tailing me.”

“Sure. As soon as I know you’re not gonna keep things from me again. You moving in will help with that.”

“So if I don’t move in, you’ll have me followed 24/7?” Anger surged through you, you were so furious you wanted to scream. “That’s fucking blackmail.”

“Relax. No need to be so dramatic about it.”

You grabbed the closest cushion you had and flung it at him, enraged by his patronising tone. “We barely know each other-”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he interjected, finally moving to stand up. His eyes were pitch black, his jaw clenched. “You and I killed someone tonight! You took my hand, my knife, and we stabbed the bastard in the heart with it, together. We fucked while he drew his last breath and now you’re feeding me this bullshit?” He stormed towards you. “No! I’ve seen your darkness and you’ve seen mine. There’s no one else in this world that knows us better than we know each other.”

You shook your head, flabbergasted by his reaction. “This is insane. I can’t move in with you. We haven’t even gone out on a real date because you said I was boring!”

“If you believe that then you really are a fucking idiot!”

You stiffened, his words ringing in your ear. Fucking idiot. Something your father used to call you repeatedly, his tone full of hate and vitriol when he lashed out at you. It started with a fucking idiot then spiralled into bitch and whore and everything else hurtful under the sun. You swore to yourself you’d never accept being spoken to like that by another person yet here you were, being insulted again by someone who was supposed to care about you.

You retreated back from Billy, careful to keep your distance from him, and leveled him with a cold glance. “Don’t you ever talk to me like that again.” 

Your voice may have been deceptively calm but there was a storm brewing inside you. You desperately needed some space. As you moved away from Billy and headed to the kitchen, he tried to block your path but you immediately pushed him away. “Don’t touch me!”

You quickly sidestepped past him and entered the kitchen, heading for the cabinet where you kept your bottle of whiskey. Pouring yourself a glass, you slowly sipped the liquid to soothe your frayed nerves and forget the memories Billy had just unleashed in you.

***

Even as the words left his mouth, Billy knew he’d made a mistake. He regretted what he said instantly, even more so when he realized how much the words had stung you. The last thing he wanted was to cause you pain but he couldn’t seem to help himself. The more he tried to hold on to you the more you slipped through his fingers.

After giving you a few minutes to calm down, he entered the kitchen behind you. You were standing in the opposite corner, drinking the hard stuff, which further signalled how shaken you were. Billy knew Scotch wasn’t something you enjoyed, you only drank it when you were messed up.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I shouldn’t have said that. It won’t happen again. I swear.”

You didn’t acknowledge him, and it hurt like hell.

“When I think about you pulling away from me, it makes me lose my mind.” He swallowed audibly, desperately trying to get through to you. “I’m all in when it comes to us but it feels like you always have one foot out the door.” He took hesitant steps towards you while your eyes still remained on the countertop, refusing to meet his gaze. “I keep fucking up but I’ve never felt this way before. I don’t know what I’m doing. I just can’t lose you, Y/N.”

“I’m not built like you, Billy,” you finally spoke, turning to look at him. “I have doubts. I’m constantly dealing with insecurities. It takes me time to trust people, and I just can’t rush into things head-on.”

“And I’m someone who hustles. I go after everything I want with guns blazing. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have Anvil.”

“But I’m not a thing, Billy. I’m a person, and you can’t push me into doing stuff I’m not ready for.”

He exhaled a resigned sigh. “I know. It’s ‘cause I get paranoid when it comes to you. You’re a closed book and you never tell me anything.” His eyes scanned yours, his stomach clenched with anxiety. “I don’t even know how you feel about me.” It was the first time he’d voiced that thought, something he didn’t even realize he felt until this very moment. You wanted him, that he knew, and you’d even confessed you loved him once but he didn’t really believe in that bullshit. What mattered to him was if you needed him as much as he did you. The idea of not having you in his life drove him insane, but did you feel the same way? He didn’t think so and it bothered the fuck out of him.

You set your glass down on the counter before reaching out to cradle his face, your soulful eyes meeting his emotional gaze. “I want to be with you, Billy. I like you so much that it scares me.”

Your words brought with them a tidal wave of relief that swept over him like a calm breeze. It was like he could breathe again. He pulled you close, his forehead against yours as he simply held you. “Don’t be scared, babe. I don’t bite.”

“That is a complete fucking lie,” you retorted. “I still have the marks from earlier to prove it.” Your smile faded again as you held his stare. “But I need you to be patient with me. You can’t bully me or get mad if I don’t want to rush into things.”

He nodded his head. “I won’t.”

“I’ve only ever had myself to rely on. And the thought of trusting you? Relying on you? It scares the hell out of me. Because there’s always a voice in my head that’s reminding me I need to go back to being alone when we end things.”

“I need to kill that voice.”

You chuckled, reaching out to loop your arms behind his back. “It shuts up eventually. It did in the hotel room when I saw how fucked up you were without me. That’s when it sunk in you actually do like me.”

“It took you that long to believe it?”

You gave him a sad smile. “Yeah. You did tell me I was boring.”

He groaned right away, regret washing over him. He should never have said those fucking words to you. “You’re not boring. You’re smart. And hot.” He kissed your left cheek. “And sweet. And funny. And mine.” Then the right cheek. “And when you lecture me about cybersecurity, I get so hard.”

“Whatever. You’re the one who wanted to know more about the topic,” you grumbled.

He grinned, giving you a tender peck on the lips. “I can listen to you talk for hours and hours-“

“Shut up.” You pressed your palm over his mouth.

Wrapping his arms around you, he lifted you off the ground and started carrying you back to the bedroom. “Forever actually, if you’re naked.”

“Not once have I lectured you naked.”

He dropped you on the bed. “Yeah, exactly. Time you start.” He jumped into bed, rubbing his beard on your face again as you started squealing.

A few minutes later you were both panting for air, staring up at the ceiling. “Just to make it clear, I’m not moving in,” you huffed through laboured breaths.

He turned to look at you, smirking. “Fine, but I’m taking you out tonight. Proper date and all.”

The most beautiful smile graced your face. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You were a ray of sunshine beaming up at him and Billy’s heart felt so full he worried it would explode. If he could, he’d freeze this moment forever.

Part 17

A/N - As always, your wonderful feedback is what keeps me inspired to write and post consistently. I was initially nervous about this chapter because the characters experience a gamut of emotions but it was necessary. I hope you like and enjoy this chapter. Feedback, as always, is very much appreciated and feeds my soul :)

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[beels-burger-babe]

A Little Voice Told Me - Pt.2

Poly! MC Summary: Words hurt and leave their scars. MC learns this the hard way after hearing some not-so-nice whispers about them while on a date with Beel. How are they supposed to be the partner of the seven lords of the Devildom when they just don't measure up? Part 1: HERE, Part 3: HERE ***Good Golly!! Y'all really like the angst, huh? Here you guys go. Cry your hearts out and enjoy! - B*** Beelzebub woke up the rest of his brothers early the next morning. While most of them attempted to flip him off or threaten him at the initial disturbance, all it took was him saying that they needed to talk about you for them to shoot out of bed. In a matter of minutes, all of them, except Levi, were seated around the breakfast table. "If we're talking about MC, why aren't they here?" Satan asked while poking at a piece of fruit. "I don't know about you, but I personally don't feel right talking about them behind their back." Belphie scoffed and laid his head in his arms. "It's not like we're gossiping about them or anything. They were acting off last night, and Beel thought we should discuss what we're gonna do about it." Beel nodded, "They pulled into themself halfway through the night, and was upset but kept brushing me off whenever I tried to talk to them about it." Mammon huffed and crossed his arms. "Maybe they just didn't feel like they could talk to ya about it," he rose to his feet and began to walk towards the door. "I'm the first! I'm sure I can get it out of them, easy peasy! I'll just head in there and-" "Mammon, sit down!" Lucifer hissed. Mammon grumbled under his breath but did as told. Lucifer sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "We've talked about this. Stop bringing up the whole 'first man' thing. MC is in a relationship with all of us. Not just you." The second-born pouted and stabbed an egg with his fork.

Lucifer rolled his eyes at his brother's antics and looked back at Beel. "Something clearly happened during the date. Do you have any ideas at all at what it could've been?" Asmodeus stirred a swirly straw around in his drink. "I mean, I would be pretty upset if I spent three hours of my evening at a barbaric sporting event too," Asmo chuckled and smirked. "The only good thing about sports is that you get to see all those rippling muscles of the athletes in action." Beel scowled at his brother took a bite out of the omelet that was on his plate. "It wasn't because of the game. MC loves coming to my Fangol games and was having a blast with me until halftime. Something had to have happened while I was gone." Asmodeus opened his mouth to counter the statement when Leviathan came rushing into the room carrying his laptop. Lucifer raised an eyebrow at the sight, "What have I told you about devices at the table?" Leviathan shot him an annoyed look as he plopped down in one of the chairs. "This isn't about table etiquette. This is about MC," he looked over at Beel and Belphie. "I think I have an idea on what may have caused them to start distancing themselves." Everyone perked up in interest at the news; each one of them eager to know what was distressing their loved one so much that they felt like they couldn't talk to them. "Well are you going to tell us, or are you just going to sit there?" Satan quipped, his anger beginning to get the better of him as he sat on the edge of his seat. Levi gave him a flat look before he typed a few things on his keyboard. "I was doing a raid last night trying to keep my mind off of what might've happened with MC and decided to ask my party members about it," Leviathan's expression darkened as he began to explain. It was clear to everyone that whatever was said, wasn't taken lightly by the otaku. Rather than reading the conversation out loud, he turned his laptop screen for all his brothers to see. Leviachan: Gaaah! I just can't focus on the game tonight. My partner came back from a date tonight and has been acting kind of sus. There's definitely something bothering them, but they refuse to tell anyone. Ruri-Chans-Husbando: Dude, you're talking about that stupid human right? Why are you even with them? You shouldn't give a Normie like them the time of day. Waifu-Addict: Exactly! Listen, we've all been talking and you need to drop that whore. They're totally just using you and your brothers for your titles and power. The demons read in horror and rage as the chat room filled with messages from the members of Leviathan's party all saying similar garbage about you and degrading you in every way they could think of. Satan stood up and began to pace near the table as he used every inch of his self-control to keep himself from lashing out. "I want names, Levi. Who are they and why do they seem to think it's okay to talk about MC like- like that?!" Satan snarled as he curled his hands into fists. Levi tsked and crossed his arms, as Lucifer took the laptop to look more closely at the messages. "You say that as if I haven't already used my 'title and power' as Grand Admiral to have my men collect and imprison them. They're at the navy base waiting for us to get our hands on them as soon as we sort this whole mess out." Belphie growled, now sitting up and wide awake. "Get our hands on them is right. No one gets away with this shit," Asmodeus glared at the computer as though it had just dyed all of his clothing brown. "Rotten brats. They're all just jealous of stunning MC. Ugh, Diavolo, haters are the worst." Beel pushed his plate away from himself as he frowned deeply. "As disgusting and horrible as this is, what does it have to do with MC getting all quiet during our date?" A low rumble came from Lucifer as he handed the laptop back to Levi. A fiery hatred was burning brightly in his eyes as he gritted his teeth. "If a bunch of anti-social shut-ins are going around talking about our dearest MC like this, I believe Leviathan's point is that others probably are."

"Ouch. I wasn't going to say it l-like that, but yes," Levi winced and continued, "MC probably overheard people saying something about them. I mean, if people said that crap about me I'd probably hide in my room and not come out for months!" Mammon, who had been surprisingly quiet during all of this, had a very serious expression on his face. "Right, and we don't want MC to go through that. For Diavolo's sake, they've left alone to overthink this enough," Mammon stood up and headed towards the door again, Satan hot on his trail. "I'm going up to there to talk with them. Ya'll are welcome to come with, but you ain't stoppin' me." "Actually, Mammon, you're not. We should wait until MC comes to us," Lucifer interrupted. An animalistic snarl tore its way from Satan's throat as what little self-control he had snapped. Wrath incarnate lunged himself at Lucifer, grabbing his older brother by the collar of his cloak. "Are you serious, Lucifer?! You're seriously putting your stupid pride first, now?!? MC needs us!" Lucifer growled and pushed Satan off of him as he stood to size him up. "No. What they need is to not feel pressured to open up when they aren't ready! We can't make them feel like they can't come to us!" Mammon scoffed from where he stood in the back. "Oh, cause that's perfect logic! News flash, oh wise one, They ain't gonna come to us if they're thinkin' they're a burden! But you wouldn't know anything about that would you?!" Lucifer's eyes widen and he took a step back in shock at the statement. "What is that supposed to mean?" Mammon and Satan both opened their mouths to put Lucifer in his place when Beel all of sudden cleared his throat loudly. All three of the angry demons turned to snap at him but froze as they saw you standing in the room behind them. They instantly straightened themselves up gave you their full attention. The air seemed to lay still between you as everyone waited for the other to make the first move. As with almost every situation, it was Mammon who broke the silence. He took a step towards you. "MC, I was just coming to get you actually. There's somethin' we all wanna talk to you about." They could hear your breath catch in your throat as you took a step back. Panic filled your eyes the moment the words left his mouth. "O-Oh. I, um, I was actually just going to grab an apple and then head off to RAD for class. M-Maybe we can talk afterwards?" Satan frowned as you walked past him towards the fruit bowl. "MC, it's the weekend." You stopped mid-step. An uncomfortable tension filled the room as the obvious excuse was exposed. The brothers waited for you to move, to speak, to do something to give them any sort of sign for what you wanted them to do, but you just stood there, still like a statue except for the tremors in your hand. "Come on, Darling," Asmodeus spoke softly. His face clearly showed the hurt and concern that was coursing through him. "Everything's alright, I promise. We just need to talk about a few things." The brothers had thought of a number of ways you could've reacted to them confronting you. Lucifer thought that perhaps you would snap at them and distance yourself further. Mammon, Levi, and Asmo expected a few small tears followed by a cuddle session. Satan imagined a slightly more dramatic telling, like something from one of his novels, that ended him being your hero and massacring all those who dared speak ill about you. Beel thought perhaps you could talk over a bunch of comfort foods that allowed you to remain calm and feel safe. Belphie had hoped that perhaps you hadn't believed what you overheard, and the two of you could laugh at how idiotic even the idea of them not loving you was. But you, breaking down into tears, sobbing the words "I'm sorry" over and over again? None of them had expected, nor were prepared, for that. ***Apparently this is now going to be a three-part series. This part was interesting to write. I fully believe that if the brothers were in a poly relationship with the MC they would definitely bicker and argue about

who knows MC best and who had the better date whenever MC isn't around. Honestly, they probably have a score chart 😅 I hope you guys liked part 2! Keep an eye out for part 3, where MC finally opens up to the boys and we have some hurt/comfort times \uwu/ ***

[idy-ll-ique]

Breaking The Rules.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader (sort of Winter Soldier x F!Reader too)

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Warnings: like,,, lots of murder

Requested: nope

Summary: The Winter Soldier attacks the building where Y/N works and comes face-to-face with her. Surprising her and himself, he lets her go, breaking the rules, not following his orders. Y/N is so thankful about his mercy that she is now the world's biggest Bucky Barnes stan. What happens when their paths cross again 7 years later?

Author's Note: Hiya peeps! Okay so I don't really know if I've done a good job writing this but I tried my best so,,, enjoy!

---

The Asset is not thinking.

The Asset is not made to think.

Casually stroking his gun as he walked into the plain building, he watched the people inside the room pause for a minute. Then the screaming began. He simply stood there, the scene unfolding in front of him as people ran; inside rooms, out the building as they jumped out of windows to avoid him. He let them.

Finally having had enough because HYDRA demands some kills, Soldat, he cocked his gun and started out by fighting the security guards that had an ounce of bravery in them as they approached him with their own guns. He killed them easily. Then he moved further into the building, ending the lives of anyone who tried to get in his way.

What was his purpose of doing this? There was none. He was programmed to kill, and the program had no specific targets. No targets, only kill. He walked up the stairs of the building as more people, who had not been dead, escaped. Then he ended up on the floor where she was.

Y/N was going through a stack of papers, wearing headphones, when she heard a scream. It had been so sudden and loud that she startled badly, the papers flying from her hands as she turned around, ready to give the person a piece of her mind only to be met with the prettiest blue eyes she had ever seen in her life. The breath left her lungs and fear overtook her.

The person in front of her; she had heard of him. They called him The Winter Soldier. He was covered in black leather, his silver arm shining in the sunlight that entered through the window on her right. She quickly glanced at it; she was 10 stories above ground. He had a black mask on (more like a muzzle, she thought) and a peculiar look on his face.

She looked around the room, her eyes filling with tears when she saw the bodies of her coworkers, the friends she had made at the workplace, littered on the floor. Damn you, stupid headphones. She discarded them. He had killed them all. The Winter Soldier didn't really have a say in what he did, she told herself, he had been programmed to act like that.

Nothing but a murder toy for HYDRA.

And she hated them for that.

"Don't cry." She looked back at the Soldat, her eyes wide in confusion. Huh? Why would he say that? She blinked away the tears and started raising a hand to wipe them off when he suddenly raised his gun. Her hand paused mid-air and she held her breath, waiting for him to finally put her out of her misery as her eyes unconsciously watered once more.

When he saw her hand, though, her palm was facing him. Ready to rub off the tears, he noticed, and he lowered the gun. "Don't cry," he repeated and Y/N, as absurd as she found the situation to be, did as he ordered. She wiped the tears off and rubbed her hands on the jeans she was wearing, staring at the man. He stared back at her.

When he first entered the floor, he had done what he had been told, until there was no one alive in the room. Or so he thought, until his eyes landed on Y/N. She was wearing some sort of a device over her head, completely oblivious to what was going on. Was she deaf? Did she not hear the gunshots?

As he approached her cautiously, someone screamed behind him. And he saw how the papers flew out of her hand she whirled around, her big, doe eyes blinking at him until recognition sparked in them. Then she cowered. For some reason, as he looked at her, he couldn't bring himself to harm her. She looked… adorable, almost. So he did what he did best.

Stared.

Her eyes were darting around the place, and they watered when they landed on the bodies on the floor. He gulped quietly under his mask, something inside him stirring uncomfortably as he watched her cry. And suddenly, he couldn't help himself. "Don't cry," he blurted out and she looked back at him. He stared. She blinked rapidly and started raising her hand.

Thinking she would raise a hand on him, he immediately held up his gun as a warning but realized that she was simply drying her tears, new ones in her eyes as she looked at the gun. And he suddenly felt very apologetic. "Don't cry," he repeated and allowed her to wipe her tears. But he was surprised to hear her speak.

"Please don't hurt me."

She was shaking, arms going around herself, but she wasn't crying. At least she was not crying. He didn't reply, only stared as a foreign, almost forgotten word came to mind. Pretty. She was pretty. Soldat or not, how could he bring himself to harm a pretty thing like her? He raised his gun again when he remembered his orders; kill, do not show mercy.

The pretty woman started crying again, this time her tears were much more prominent. "Please, please don't do it, please… I have done nothing to you, don't do it…" she pleaded, fingers intertwined as if in prayer. Kill her. But he ignored the order and lowered his gun again.

"Pretty," he stated and her brows furrowed. Y/N blinked at him, pretty? Did she hear that right? He called her pretty, right? "Pardon?" she blurted out and his head tilted to the side. "Go." His voice sounded strained and for a moment, Y/N wanted to embrace him, to comfort him but hurriedly dismissing the thoughts, she turned on her heels and ran out the building.

The Asset stared at her as she ran.

He had not been programmed to think.

Then why had he?

---

"Guys, I'm telling you, it was so surreal—"

"Oh my God, Y/N, will you stop—"

Steve, Sam and Bucky glanced at the group of ladies that ended up at the bar next to them. A few years had passed since the incident between Bucky and Y/N took place and he was back to normal. No longer the Winter Soldier; he was an ally of the Avengers now. Steve glanced at his friends, lips curling into an amused smile.

"What do you think they're talking about?" he whispered and Sam snickered quietly. "Why don't we listen?" Bucky simply shook his head, but was also kind of intrigued at this surreal experience that Y/N talked about. Y/N… that name sounded kind of familiar to him, but maybe it was a common one, what did he know?

"He called me pretty!"

"We know he's hot, Y/N, but seriously, the Winter Soldier did not call you pretty."

The three men froze and their eyes darted amongst each other. "He did," Y/N whined, "I'm telling you!" Bucky almost dropped his glass but managed to hold on, his jaw dropped. Thankfully the ladies were not aware of the men shamelessly eavesdropping on their conversation. "Wait wait wait, what is this about you and the Winter Soldier? I've not heard that story."

"Ugh, Sam, you've done it now!"

Steve and Bucky glanced at Sam with smirks and he rolled his eyes. "Samantha," he snarked but the super soldiers only shrugged in reply. "Okay okay, this was like… 7 years ago. I was in my office, working, when our building was attacked. By him." And Bucky, try as he might, couldn't remember shit.

"Dude, I was wearing headphones so damn strong that I didn't hear literal gunshots echoing around the room, like what?"

"Seriously, Y/N? You know we won't say anything if you tell us you're lying."

"But I'm not lying," Y/N insisted, "I heard a scream and finally took off the headphones. When I turned to see who had screamed, he was literally standing in front of me." Hazy memories slowly flashed in his mind; a plain building, those red-black headphones and the fluttering of papers. He gulped his drink down.

"And didn't kill you like he had been trained to? I still think you're lying. Or maybe you just have severe trauma and you made up a story of the handsome Bucky Barnes calling you pretty." Bucky nearly laughed when Y/N's face turned red but then guilt started weighing heavy in his stomach. He had put her in danger…

"I don't have trauma, don't joke about stuff like that! Anyway, I was like, scared shitless. I thought I was gonna die, I started crying but he told me, don't cry. Like huh?" Bucky didn't remember that part. Steve and Sam were now definitely drawn to the story, their eyes set on their glasses as they listened.

"I didn't want to anger him so I wiped my tears but he raised that goddamn gun again and I started crying again. He repeated his words and I started pleading, as we've all seen in action movies." Snorts drifted between them. "Please don't hurt me, let me go…" Y/N mimicked but Bucky's heart rate suddenly spiked. The same voice, the same tone…

He had had a nightmare the previous night.

She was the one he heard.

"Okay, so after I'm done begging, you know what he fucking says? Out of all things, he literally called me pretty. Like just— just that one word came out of his mouth. I'm literally still so confused," she spoke animatedly and the friend who had not heard the story before gasped. "Seriously? No way," she scoffed.

"Yes way!" Y/N got impatient. Why did no one ever believe her? She got that it was an outlandish story, but it was real! Y/N wished the Soldat was here; not to kill, of course, merely to confirm the fact that he had, indeed, called her pretty. But that man was long gone, replaced by someone who was stable-but-not-so-stable, undoubtedly handsome and with a new metal arm. This Bucky was much better than the dangerous Soldat.

"Then he told me to go. He sounded so fucking soft, you know? I have so much respect for Bucky Barnes, I mean, look at him. He went through so much he didn't deserve, and sometimes I just wanna—" She made a choking gesture, "—everyone who hurt him." Her friends chuckled but he could tell she wasn't lying. She really did care for him.

After all he put her through…

"I'm serious! Look at him! He looks like a lost puppy. How can you not care about him?" Y/N whined and her friends shook their heads. "You just have a big crush on the man, accept it." Bucky rolled his eyes as Steve and Sam smirked at him. He nudged them both, keeping silent. "You know what? I wish he was here right now. He probably doesn't even remember but if he did—"

"I remember it, doll, only vaguely…"

Y/N's group froze as their gazes followed the voice, landing on the three Avengers beside them. Her friends were mortified, Y/N even more so. Did he hear the story? "D-Did you… hear…" she stammered and Bucky pursed his lips. "I'm sorry." The apology fell out before he could stop himself and Y/N, ever the Bucky-apologist, instantly shook her head.

"It was not your fault. HYDRA did that to you. You didn't deserve any of it, mark my words." She sounded like Steve, he noticed and smiled gently. After all he put her through… she still stood by his side. "Thank you, doll, that really means a lot," he said sincerely and Y/N grinned at him. "You're welcome!" And before she could turn to her friends, he spoke up again.

"I meant what I said."

"Hm?" She looked at him, head tilted in confusion. "When I called you pretty, I meant it. You are pretty, very much so." She went red under his intense gaze and shied away, forcing Steve, Sam and her friends to burst into boisterous laughter. "Th-Thanks," she mumbled and Bucky craved her more.

"Join me for a drink?" he questioned and her eyes widened. He mistook it for fear and immediately lowered his head. "Sorry, I overstepped—" He froze when she took his metal hand, holding it gently, looking at him with the same eyes he had thought to be adorable 7 years ago. "Of course I'll join you." A genuine smile bloomed on his face and without a care in the world, he led her away from her friends.

She was going to be his.

Forever and always.

The only woman caring and wonderful enough to accept him, broken and everything.

---

A/N: Leave a like if you enjoyed, thanks for reading! Love you all 🖤

[fangirl-creates]

The Most Unlikely Thing

A Stolitz Wedding One-Shot

Inspired by this lovely art by @sator-the-wanderer on Instagram (Link at the end)

(Note: This is my first time writing with Helluva Boss Characters—I was worried they wouldn’t be in character, but I hope you enjoy!!)

Most would say a night like this would never happen. That it was one of the many outlandish and downright ridiculous thoughts that appeared within the mind of anyone who knew them. If you said it outloud, you’d get a quick laugh out of the person you told, then the subject would be changed in an instant-as if it was never said at all.

Moxxie had that thought once. Right around 2AM he woke up from an uneventful dreamscape, and processed the thought with every ounce of his intellect. Even after that, it still made no sense. He turned to Millie’s side, taking a deep breath before he spoke.

“Millie? Are you awake?”

His wife stirred for a moment, a small yawn before she responded. “Yeah, Moxx?” She mumbled.

“I...had a weird thought..” He sat up, running his hand through his snow-white hair, soon scratching the top of his head.

“What was it?” She sat up a little, both curious and worried about what he might be thinking.

“Well-” He paused for a moment, giving the room a good look around before he continued. If a certain someone was here, listening, he wouldn’t hear the end of it. “It’s about Blitz and uh...Prince Stolas.”

Millie’s golden eyes widened as her tail started swishing like a curious cat. Any worry she had was gone, now she wanted to know all the details surrounding this. “Well?? Don’t keep me in suspense!” She smiled eagerly, shaking him by the arm a little.

“So like...and this is just a hypothetical..” He chuckled, smiling nervously for a quick second. “I just wondered for a second...well..” At this moment their eyes were locked, Moxxie’s face now torn between smiling or frowning. He had no idea what to feel. “Do you think they could ever...end up like us?”

Millie tilted her head, raising a brow. “Ya mean like...married ‘n stuff?”

Moxxie nodded a few times. “Yeah, Yeah! Do you...do you think-?”

She put a hand on her chin. “Well...I don’t think it isn’t possible. I mean...I’m pretty sure...excluding their little agreement...maybe they do like each other..”

“Do they though?” He started to lay down again, now staring at the ceiling. “I mean clearly Stolas likes him to the point where he won’t stop gushing over him. But...Blitz?”

“Who knows, hon. Blitz hardly talks about how he really feels. Maybe he does. And maybe one day they will…” The last thing didn’t sound so sure.

Moxxie turned his head. “But?”

“All relationships are complex, Moxx. And those two? Hell, it could take them years before they even think about something like that. But then again…”

“What?”

“Sometimes the thing you least expect might happen sooner than you think.”

Moxxie blinked a couple times, squinting a bit. “Sooo...you do or you don’t think they could-” He was interrupted by Millie giving him a kiss on the lips. She turned the light off next, shifting back into her sleeping position.

“Goodnight, Moxxie.”

Moxxie sighed, slowly closing his eyes as sleep began to cloud his mind again.

He still couldn’t believe he actually thought that. Although it wasn’t the worst thing in the world, it still surprised him no less. But despite how much he just wanted to forget it, it made him think about what Millie said.

It was true Blitz was starting to show a small glimmer of affection towards the Goetian Prince, especially since the rescue from a few nights ago. The concern and sudden display of power through a demonic transformation was enough to make Blitz gawk at the sight of it. And the way Stolas gently cupped his face asking if he was alright afterwards made everyone else in the room stare, Blitz feeling slightly embarrassed by the whole situation.

Yet it still made him think that maybe...just maybe something like that could happen. But that wasn’t up to him. Whatever they decided would leave this idea, this thought, completely within the hands of faith itself.

And with that, Moxxie fell asleep.

———————

Three years ago, it was never spoken of outside of that one night. And neither of the two had ever acted upon such a decision until much much time had passed. But now the stars were in their favor.

The sky was a dark, beautiful crimson that had mixed with a captivating wine purple. The stars were scattered, dusting the sky and turning it into a dazzling display of twilight.

They had kept it small, the only ones being present were close friends and family—which was basically four people. But it didn’t matter how many people were there, or where they did it. All that mattered was that it happened—which had ended up on the roof of I.M.P’s office building.

The vows had been short, with a few important bits here and there; Moxxie having to be both the one to wed them and the best man to the boss himself. He wasn’t sure he had the exact authority to do so, but both explained it was better than having someone else they didn’t know. Because once this got out, they’d have a whole other thing to deal with. But that was a future problem they would solve when it became relevant to them.

Blitz was given a stepstool so he could reach Stolas without having to stand on the tips of his toes. He didn’t want the stepstool, saying that he’d look like a complete joke. But if Stolas had to lift him up for this part, he would be unable to think clearly from the embarrassment.

Stolas didn’t seem to care how many people were present, or where they decided to host the reception. There was only one thing that mattered in this moment, and the smile of genuine compassion refused to leave his face the entire night. Blitz looking up with him while trying to contain himself only seemed to make him smile more. He was adorable.

Both eagerly waited for Moxxie to finish up, Blitz trying to keep himself from falling off the stool by how much he was moving. Of course he stood perfectly still once he heard the last few words out of Moxxie’s mouth.

“You may now kiss—”

Blitz practically jumped into Stolas’ embrace, quickly locking lips with him as the two slowly started to get lost in intimacy.

The four clapped while giving the newly weds smiles of congratulations. But those quickly faded away when they noticed the two weren’t paying attention anymore. The passionate kissing lasted for almost two minutes before Loona had to break them away from each other.

“Hey, lovebirds. Maybe wait till none of us can see you.” She rolled her eyes, putting Blitz down after basically pulling him off of Stolas.

Blitz put a hand on his head, taking a look around. “Oh shit, I forgot we were doing this.”

Stolas bent over with a light chuckle, booping Blitz’s nose. “-and aren’t you so glad we did, Blitzy~?”

The Imp pushed his face away as he blushed a bit more. “Yeah yeah just…don’t make it a bigger deal than it already is..”

“Looks like someone’s trying to pretend he can’t be romantic for once.” Moxxie smirked, making Blitz turn around in retaliation. His face was now a different form of red.

“Well you know what, Moxxie?! You—!” Then he stopped, biting his lip as he put his accusing finger away. “You…did..a good job…tonight..” He mumbled under his breath.

Moxxie kept smirking, raising a hand to where his ear would be. “Oh, what was that? Could you repeat what you said a little louder?”

Blitz shifted uncomfortably, hoping this was the last time. None of this was like him. And in front of his entire friend circle too!

“You…didagoodjobtonight..” He said it louder as per Moxxie’s request, just a bit faster than normal. Now everyone heard him…however-

“Maybe a little louder…and slower?” He leaned in closer.

“Goddammit, Moxxie! I already held back insulting you just let me have this!” He snapped a little, making everyone else just laugh in response. Moxxie put a hand on his shoulder, his smile genuine.

“Thanks, Blitz.”

———————

The rest of the wedding had lasted a couple hours. Since the group was so small, dancing and talking underneath Hell’s strangely unnatural starlight felt more meaningful.

Eventually, M&M had to leave. But they wished the two best of luck, the wedding present they got the only thing left of them from tonight. Octavia and Loona decided to head inside the office to give their dads space. Now that they were legally sisters, hanging out would feel more genuine. Like you had someone else there looking out for you. Loona now was able to shout anything about being her big sister to anyone who tried to mess with them.

Up on the roof, Blitz and Stolas were laying down on what used to be the tablecloth to the buffet, staring at the stars. Blitz had taken advantage of using Stolas’ chest as a fluffy pillow. It was so comforting, like he could just lay there forever and never get up. But then…something did make him get up. He sat and hugged his knees close, his expression somewhat distraught. His eyes turned briefly to the owl demon, feeling strange.

“Stolas?” He finally broke the silence.

Stolas had already taken note of Blitz sitting up. But he quickly sat up when next he saw his partner’s face.

“What’s the matter, Blitzy? Are you feeling alright?” His questions were genuine, making Blitz feel worse.

“Is this…is this what you want? Do you really want…me?” Something in his voice cracked and that made Stolas’ heart feel a strike of pain.

“Of course I do! Tell me, what brought this on?” He held Blitz’s chin in his hand gently so their eyes met once more.

“It’s…It’s just how we started out. And everything after that…I don’t know why it took me so fucking long to actually admit that I…” He paused. “…felt this way.”

“And?”

“And…I didn’t think that you would actually..! You…You said yes.” His eyes started to water. “Why the hell did you say yes?!”

Stolas pulled him in close, caressing his back. “Because I love you, Blitzy…And you being there all those times, even when I didn’t truly feel this way—it still meant something to me. And I know it meant something to you.”

Blitz let out a crying sound, something he would never do. At least, not in public. He didn’t know what was wrong with him, but he just felt so vulnerable now…and he hated it. Stolas quickly responded to this by cupping his face and lifting it up so they were at eye level again.

The Imp’s lip was quivering and his eyes were bloodshot enough to almost blend in with his eye color. The tears were staining his cheeks, big droopy ones making him look like an absolute wreck. He looked even more embarrassed now than he did before.

Stolas wiped some of the tears away with one of his hands, a comforting smile. “Oh, Blitzy…do you think we’d really be here if I didn’t feel this way?”

He sniffed, trying to contain himself before he responded. “No..None of this would be…” He took a deep breath. “I guess I’m so used to pushing people away I never thought you’d actually stick around.”

Stolas gave him another kiss, shorter than before, but something about this one felt even more emotional than the last. Something about this one made Blitz want nothing more than to be with him. No matter what his fears were telling him.

“I love you, Blitzy…” It was the third or fourth time he had said it tonight, but this time it felt deeper.

“I love you too, Stolas…” He returned the kiss, both landing back down on the floor.

It was at that moment they refused to let this feeling leave them. For even though the memory of this magical night would fly by, they would never ever forget it.

End.

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[miiracleangel]

midnight moments

with the hot middle blocker squad

Suna, Tsukishima, Mattsun, Kuroo and Tendo

how i feel some midnight talks with some of our favorite middle blocker boys would go.

⚠︎︎ light nsfw and mentions of nsfw but it’s mainly fluff and chaos with tendo

❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎

Suna

Your lift your head up from your boyfriends chest to look at the time.

2:34am

“Fuck me” you whisper to yourself annoyed

“How can you think about fucking at a time like this” your boyfriend sleepily asks startling you. Moving his body from under you and flipping you both over with his body hovering over yours.

“ You scared me, i didn’t know you were up” you said while looking wide eyed at the ceiling while your boyfriend starts kissing at your neck and trailing down your chest before coming to a halt.

“Wait so you didn’t say that to me?”

“No Rin I was mostly talking to myself but please continue” you say quietly and amussed.

“Fuckkk thattt i’m going back to sleep” he says as a pout forms on your face watching him lay his head on your chest.

“Talk to me Rin”

“about?”

“anything”

“Alright well today Osamu “accidentally” rolled the ball cart into Astumu today and instead of apologizing Osamu punched Atsumu in the face”

“Wh-“

“Apparently Atsumu ate Osamus breakfast instead of making his own and that was his revenge”

“which one is Atsumu and which one is Osamu again”

“I don’t know”

“Rin what” he lets out a breathy laughs at your response. “Osamu has the grey hair, Atsumu has the yellow hair” he answers

“When did you finally realize you can tell them both appear?”

“two days ago”

“oh my god Rin”

“I’m playing it’s been awhile, it’s not exactly hard to tell them apart.” he mumbles. His fatigue soon taking over.

“I keep mixing up their names” you tell your boyfriend as he reaches for his phone and starts scrolling through it and brings it to your face.

“You took a video instead of stopping them?”

“yes”

“why”

“That requires me to actually do something about the situation instead of enjoy it”

“Alright Rin” you laugh as he lifts his body up to lay back next to you, laying on his stomach with a arm laid lazily across your chest. Soon sleep starts to creep upon you as well.

“Rin?”

“Sleep hoe damn”

“You’re next to be punched” he laughs at your quick remark and scoots closer to you so now you’re face to face and he plants a kiss on your lips.

“sleep” *kiss* “sleep” *kiss* “sleep-“

“I love you” you interrupt as you turn on your side to face him. Eyes closed, sleep finally taking over.

Your boyfriend smiles at your sleeping form and kisses your lips

“I love you too”

Tsukishima

“Oh my god go to sleep it’s 3am”

“cuddle me”

“why”

“Because i can’t sleep and i’m asking nicely”

Your boyfriend huffs and turns around in your bed to face you and pulls you to his chest.

“Thank you” you mumble snuggling closer to him.

“I’m gonna move”

“Don’t you dare Kei”

“Too late i’m moving” he says as he moves to lay on his back. “Now i can’t fall back asleep” he huffs.

“Wanna talk about something?” you ask moving your head to his chest as he put a hand on your back.

“Sure how about we talk about the fact my needy baby woke me up for absolutely no reason”

“ I’m gonna pretend you weren’t trying to make me sound annoying because you called me baby” you remark at him.

“You’re a pain” he remarks back

“And yet here you are next to me” you spit back.

He always loved these kinds of talks with you just back and forth with each other always wanting the last word.

He won’t admit it though you’ll use that shit against him.

“I’m here because you wanted to date me” he continues.

“You asked me out”

“You said yes”

“I should’ve said no”

“You really should’ve” he says making you both laugh at your antics.

“Believe it or not i actually like you and enjoy your presence” you say lifting your head up from his chest and resting your chin on him instead. Seeing him smile to himself while looking up at the ceiling.

“Believe it or not” he says looking down at your face, rubbing the back of his hand on your cheek.

“I’m actually in love with you”

“That’s gross Kei” you say laughing as you scoot up to lay your head in the crook of his neck and start drifting to sleep. “I’m pretty sure i’m more in love with you though”

“That’s embarrassing” he adds

“I know” were your last mumbled words before you fell asleep leaving your boyfriend to cuddle with your sleeping form. Sleep creeping upon him as well.

“I definitely love you more” he whispers into your forehead before planting a kiss on it.

Mattsun

“Issei...Issei” you repeat your boyfriends name while poking at his nose.

“Two more minutes mom” he says with a smile on his face, opening one eye to see your pouty face.

“Awww does my widdle babie have twouble sweeping” he jokingly says with a baby voice earning a eyeroll and a smile from you. He turns over so you both are facing each other.

“Did i wake you up”

“Yeah but i woke up to your dumb face so it’s okay”

“I hate you” he laughs at your reaction and starts kissing your nose between his words.

“i’m kidding i love your face” he says smiling at the end. “You wanna talk about something”

“Like what babe” you say, your big eyes staring at him through the dark room.

“let’s play 20 questions”

“Goodnight Issei”

“I’ll start, what’s your favorite color?”

You look at your boyfriend with dead eyes.

“Y/f/c, but you knew that right”

“of course i did baby” he says with a light giggle. “okay youre turn”

“What’s your favorite food”

“ those cheese filled burger steak things, but you knew that right?” he says making fun of your last remark.

you giggle “of course i did baby”

“Okay Issei next questi-“

“Are you a virgi-“

“you know the answer to that already Issei”

“shit you right” he laughs out at he goes to hover above you and starts kissing your lips.

he flips you both over so your straddling his hips, his hands roam over your ass. Fingers tracing along the hem of your underwear as you rub your clothed slit against his growing bulge

You break the kiss and sit up, stopping your movements

Mattsun let’s out a light groan “no baby keep goin-“

“My turn, if Makki was a girl would you fuck him?”

he looks at you surprised.

“depends”

“ON WHAT”

“If he has a fat ass then maybe but if he’s as flat as he is right now then no”

you look at your boyfriend dumbfounded

“unless i’m with you then obviously not unless...”

“unless what babe?” you ask moving your body to lay next to him with your head on his chest.

“threesom-“

“good night Issei” you move to your side of the bed and face away from him as he has a laughing fit.

“no baby come back next question”

you huff “Last question” you say as he sees sleep is starting to take over your mind.

He smiles at your sleepy face “How much do you love me” he asks tracing your facial features with his fingers.

“Like THIS much” you say extending your arms as far as they go.

“Well i love you THISSS much” he says extending his longer arms the same way you did then he pulls you to lay on his chest as you soon drift to sleep.

“i love you” you mumble

“cap”

“issei”

“i love you too baby”

Kuroo

You huff as you leave your room to go get a drink in the kitchen only to be met with the time on the stove

2:38am

after your drink you slowly make your way back to your room to be met with your shirtless boyfriend sitting up on your bed.

“can’t sleep” he asks as he pulls you to lay your head on his lap as you shake your head at his question. “Talk to me”

“That’s what i’m doing right now”

“well keep talking”

he rubs his hand through his hair “What do you want to talk about?”

“I don’t know Tetsu tell me a joke” you say sarcasticlly just to get your boyfriend to say anythjng.

“I’d tell you a chemistry joke”

“Tetsuro”

“But i know i wouldn’t get a reaction” he says belting out his cackling laugh as you turn your head to look at him.

“nerd” you said to yourself loud enough for him to hear.

“You tell me a joke then”

“What do you do to your chemistry nerd boyfriend who keeps saying bad chemistry jokes?”

“i don’t know y/n”

“you BARIUM alive”

Kuroo laughs even louder at your joke causing you to sit up and smile at his face.

“That was good babe” he says wiping tears from his eyes.

“ I learned from the best” you say planting a kiss on his cheek.

Kuroo lays back down opening his arms to invite you to lay on his shirtless chest. You’re slowly being lulled to sleep by his heartbeat and slow breathing.

“How often do you make chemistry jokes anyway?” you ask him wondering if he annoys his teammates with the same jokes until you were pushed out your thoughts by your boyfriends giggle.

“periodically” he lets out another laugh as you roll your eyes.

“not funny didnt laugh”

“you kids don’t understand good humor”

“Kuroo you’re a month older than me” you say as he gives you another laugh

“babe”

“Tetsu”

“ You make me hotter then sulfur hydroxide mixed with ethyl acetate”

“you make me vomit” he laughs at your remark before kissing the top of your head.

You lift your head up to face him and he stares at you with an adoring face rubbing his thumb across your cheek. “don’t vomit on me” he says breaking your concentration, you roll your eyes and sit up on your elbows.

“Forget hydrogen, you’re my number one element” you say to your boyfriend before you kiss his lips to fall back asleep.

He just stares at you dumbfounded and a blushed mess.

“y/n”

“yes”

“I love you”

“I love you too nerd”

Tendo

my widdle chaotic babie

You wake up to a soft sucking feeling on your nipple and stir away to look down and see what you HOPE was your boyfriend stuffed in your shirt

“Satori?”

“mhm” he hums before releasing your nipple with a pop and wiggling his way through the top of your shirt.

“babe you’re going to stretch the shirt neckline stop” you mumble sleepiness still in your voice.

“I can’t sleep and this is my shirt anyways” he says now fully emerged so both your head and squished against each other.

you let out a breathy giggle as he kisses your cheeks “talk to me i’m boredddd” he whines.

“I can tell you a story” you said removing your arms from your shirt to hug your boyfriend who refuses to leave the comfort of inside your shared shirt.

“Make it good or i’ll bite your nipple” he threatnes scooting back down, emerging back into the shirt slowly.

“bite me nipp-AH”

he continues the light sucking on your nipples and waits for your story

“Okay fucker so Once upon a time” you started. “There was a little gremlin who woke up his master from their slumber when he SHOULD be fast asleep in his quarters.”

Tendo removes himself from under your shirt “This story sucks and it feels like an attack on my life”

He gets up and starts jumping on the bed.

“ARE U SERIOUS TORI?!”

“I. NEED. TO. SLEEP” he says between jumps.

“This isn’t the way Gizmo” you say laughing as he jumps down on his butt and laughs at the nickname.

“Gizmo wasn’t that cute when he was all angry and stuff” he pouts and you’re quick to comfort him.

“He was cute before all that and he is cute still now” you say not referring to the fictional movie character and Tendo smiles and plants a kiss on your lips.

“Come here my cute little gremlin” you continue and he takes his place cuddled next to you and gets attacked by your kisses.

“Emphasis on the cute right”he says letting you grab his face and plant kisses all around his cheeks and nose.

“of course” you say in between kisses.

He lets you continue the attack of kisses. Loving the attention from you.

“Do you love me?” he interrupts

“Of course Satori” he hums at your response and hugs you into his chest.

“Okay so that means you will stay with me forever?” he whispers back making it sound more like a demand than a question cuddling closer to you to fell back asleep.

“That was a little random but sure”

“Just cuddle me bitch”

“I am you cunt”

[acourtofsnakes]

A Helping Hand - Bucky Barnes x Reader (f)

(Gif: @sebastianruinedme​ )

Summary: After a stressful week, you try to wind down with some personal time but nothing quite hits that spot. And a certain Super Soldier may just be more than willing to help you. 

Warnings: 18+ Smut - Masturbation/toys, Oral (f receiving), fingering, neck play, arm/hand kink, dirty talk, a faint Dom theme if you squint, swearing – honestly, Bucky should just be a kink in himself.

Word count: 5k+ words full of hot playtime. 

A/N: This is just filth, to be honest. I was feeling a certain way after watching episode 3 of TFATWS and seeing that scene with Bucky cleaning his hand and… ideas happened, and this was born. There’s not really a plot… simply enjoy. 

Smut under the cut!!

Permanent Taglist: @greeneyedblondie44 @mamacitapascal​

Part 2

There was something to be said about the advancement of toys in recent years. 

There were hundreds of them. All different types. For all different things. 

Rabbits, waterproof vibrators, pulsating and pounding ones, ones that felt like oral, handsfree vibrators, remote control vibrators – the list went on. 

You had a lot. Tucked in a drawer of your dresser in a pretty box that just made you go all tingly in the knees every time you saw it. 

You were proud of your collection. 

And boy, did you love them. 

They never let you down, ever. 

But unfortunately, tonight was just not one of those nights. 

It has been a tough week. 

Not only had you taken a beating in training yesterday, but you were also late for an appointment across the city, which resulted in being yelled at by Fury. 

You really regretted decided to help him when he needed it. 

There wasn’t a lot going on lately, so you offered to help Fury when he needed it. 

Usually, you were on his food side. 

Yesterday, not so much. 

Everything seemed out to get you, and after the shit show of the week, you just wanted to treat yourself. So, you’d holed yourself up in your room on your floor of the compound, had a long, luxurious soak in the bath, and then decided to work out your anxiety and tension with one of your many, many friends. 

And for the first time in a while, they just weren’t hitting that spot. 

Literally. 

You groaned, throwing the third toy - this one a rabbit that was one of your most trusty companions - on the side of your bed. 

For the last forty minutes, you’d been dancing between three different toys and your fingers. 

You’d tried being on your belly, your side, and your back. You’d even tried a pillow. 

But nothing was the right pressure on your clit, no toy or finger felt deep enough inside, and you couldn’t hit that spot inside without getting a wicked cramp in your wrist that forced you to stop. 

You sat up, every nerve in your body wound to a knife edge, leaving you frustrated and tempted to throttle someone. 

Or get someone to throttle you. 

Preferably whilst pinning you to a wall... or a desk. 

Or anywhere really. 

You just needed something, anything to get out this frustration and give you the release you’d been desperately chasing all night. 

It wasn’t even a case of hovering on the edge - you couldn’t even get there. The fire and heat just stayed a kindling ember in your belly, and never reaching that explosive fire. 

After getting up and downing a measure of whiskey whilst watching the rain, you decided to try a last-ditch attempt with a different toy. 

This one was a curved vibrator, with a thicker rounder head for supposedly perfect pressure on your g-spot. 

Simple, straight forward. 

Surely, if none of the others had done it, this one finally would. 

After settling back on your bed, you took a little more care this time, even going as far to light a few candles to add an ambiance to the room rather than have it pitch black with the sounds of the rain. 

You worked yourself up this time, building it slowly, teasing yourself with brushes of your fingertips over your throat and breasts, setting your skin ablaze. 

You pushed yourself to the edge a little, and then worked over with your vibrator. 

Until ten minutes later, when you literally launched the vibrator across the room and it hit the wall with a resounding thud, that echoed your hiss of frustration.  “Fucking hell.”  

A shit week, a shit day, and you couldn’t even fuck yourself well enough to be able to wind down and get some sleep. 

There was a sudden knock and then Bucky’s voice echoed through your bedroom door. “Darlin’?” There was a slight hint of his Brooklyn accent peeping through at the end, stirring something within you. 

You startled, sitting bolt upright and your head snapped to the door, “Bucky?” You had the good sense to lock the door, but still. He was right there. 

His shadow moved beneath the door, and you realised he was leaning against it, “Is everything alright? I heard banging.” 

Well, no not really. I’ve been trying to get myself off for the last hour and nothing appears to be working and I’m sitting here naked whilst you’re the other side of my door calling me Darling in that ridiculously hot accent that shouldn’t even be that hot. But hey, apart from that, everything’s great. 

You slid off the bed, padding across the room after dropping your toys back in their drawer, glaring at it as you passed. You slipped a robe on before making your way across the fluffy rug to the door, “Yeah, I’m okay...” You unlocked the door, tugging it open. 

Bucky was leaning against the doorframe, all broad shoulders, long lines and soft smile. 

His searing blue eyes were instantly locked onto you, a smirk playing on those gorgeous lips.

He cocked his head, standing there with his arms crossed, and you noticed that for once, he wasn’t wearing any gloves. Just a simple long-sleeved T-shirt, jeans that hung sinfully close to his hips and... no boots. Just socks. 

Like he’d taken his shoes off before waking into your apartment. 

Ever the gentleman. 

His arm was bare, the soft light of the hall bouncing off of the black vibranium and sparking the gold. You’d always loved his arm. The sheer power of it, the way you’d seen it shatter a man’s ribs instantly and tear through a brick wall like it was made of glass. The same hand that tickled behind the ears of a stray kitten in Prospect Park and test the ripeness of plums at the market. 

You wanted that hand around your throat. 

Eyes the colour of the Arctic sea roamed over your body, from your slightly mussed up hair to the flush along your neck that disappeared in the dip of your dressing gown. “Mm... are you sure about that?” He tilted his coyly, a smirk playing on his lips and you had a feeling this expression had been one of the trademarks since the 40’s. 

You narrowed your eyes at him, more than aware that he was seeing far more than you wanted him to, “I’m fine.” You turned from the door, leaving it open for him to come in, “How comes you’re up on my floor, anyway?” You peered over your shoulder at him as you padded across the room to the drinks cart. 

Yes, there was a bar on your floor, but why couldn’t you have a cart in your room? Tony hadn’t even needed to ask when designing it. 

Bucky walked in, his footfalls silent like a cat, that training never quite leaving him, “I couldn’t sleep. No nightmares, just restless.” He added the last part quickly, in response to the concern that tightened your expression. 

It was nothing unusual, Bucky coming up here to your room.  

You often found each other after nightmares or rough days, seeking comfort and distraction from the darkness that lingered. 

Some days and nights, you went out, needing an outside diversion from the thoughts. 

Other times, you stayed in, watching films, talking, training or just... sitting quietly, knowing that the other persons presence was enough protection and reassurance. Words weren’t needed… just company.  

You handed him a drink, plopping down on the end of your bed and you watched him sink into the couch opposite, “Anything you wanna talk about?” 

Since everything with the War, Bucky was working on fitting back into a routine, into ‘normal’ life - or what could be considered normal for people like yourselves. 

He was undergoing his mandatory therapy sessions, and they seemed to be helping him. 

He was back in contact with Sam, and the pair even worked a few jobs together now and then, even if they did bicker like an old married couple - it provided great entertainment when you tagged along. 

He leant back on the couch, settling his left arm across the back. He always looked at home on your floor, relaxed, like his mind could shut off a little. “Nah, I’m okay... Thank you though.” He shot you an easy smile again, one that he probably hadn’t used in.... decades. “What about you? Why are you up so late?”

Mimicking his shrug, you kept your expression neutral, making sure your eyes didn’t drift to that certain drawer, “Rough week. I was reading to try and drift off.” 

“Mmmhm...” Bucky’s hummed response told you instantly that he did not believe you one bit. “What were you reading? Cosmopolitan’s best guide to toys?” That shit eating grin graced his face and he motioned gracefully with his left hand... to the corner of the room. 

The vibrator you’d launched was sitting on the floor, nestled in the rug, the soft mint green silicone practically a beacon. 

Okay. 

Okay…. So. There were two ways you could respond to this. 

Either play it off, deny it and change the subject. 

Or…

Turning back to him, you shrugged again, “Oh, I’ve read that back to front. And made a few additions myself.” You cocked your head, a faint flutter in your belly as you awaited his response. 

The barest flicker of surprise danced across his beautiful, rugged features before dissolving into something confident and smouldering. “Well, it looks to me like their guide isn’t true to review tonight. Something tells me you’re having a little bit of trouble.” His voice had begun to lower into a deeper, the natural roughness of his voice coming out. 

It stoked that fire within you, warming your blood and curling low in your belly. 

“And if I was? What would you suggest to help?” It was almost impossible to remain sitting still as the atmosphere folded and changed. There was one obvious route to your back and forth… and you wanted it. 

Wanted… him.

And if you were honest, you had for a long time now. There was just something about him that you’d always been drawn to, a simmering tension that settled whenever you were together. 

Bucky rose from the sofa in a fluid movement, walking toward you slowly, casually, but with the grace and prowl of a wolf eyeing up its next meal – you. 

And fuck, you wanted him to devour you. 

He slid his hands into his pockets, feet silent on your wooden floor, “Well… I would say that as wonderful as your toys may be… they’re just that. Toys. They can’t… feel what you like.” His eyes burned through you with each of his steps. “They don’t hear the noises you make when they hit the right spot. They don’t get to see the way your body reacts, the way your teeth sink into your bottom lip because it feels overwhelmingly good.” 

He was close enough for you to smell his cologne, and that only added to the growing wetness between your thighs as his filthy, beautiful words. 

Bucky stopped in front of you, removing his left hand and touching his fingers to your chin to tilt it up to face him, “They can’t know the little things… the deeper angle, that extra finger or sweep of the tongue… they can’t make you so wet that it runs down your thighs and they can’t make you arch off the bed as you shatter into starlight…” He sighed softly, shaking his head in mock disappointment, “I’m afraid they just… can’t make you come the way a real person could.” He applied a little pressure to the underside of your chin, and you rose to your – unsteady -  feet instantly, putty in his hands.  

Holy fuck, Bucky Barnes had a mouth on him. 

Your teeth had indeed sunk into your lower lip, and your breathing had grown shallow. It was an effort to keep your thighs firmly locked together… Because you were just as wet as he had said. 

The dark flame in his eyes told you that he knew the reaction you were having to him. He brushed a cool thumb over your lip, then tugged it gently to free it from your teeth and at the same time, he leant his head down to your level, “They can’t make you come like I can, darlin’.” This close, his warm lips brushed the shell of your ear, his voice reduced to a husky rasp that only further drew out that Brooklyn accent. 

The soft moan that left your lips was almost pitiful, but you didn’t care, “Shit.” 

You breathed the word, earning a deep chuckle in your ear before Bucky pulled back, only enough to see your face, “You want me to help you? Give you a helping hand?” His words were low and seductive, but he was looking between your eyes, making no more moves until he knew you wanted this. 

If you changed your mind, he would leave right now, and say no more about it. 

That very thought pained you. 

Something had always hovered between you both… and maybe now was the time to let it out. You shared a few kisses on nights out and he had featured heavily in your fantasies night after night, wishing your fingers were his, the toys were him….

You met his eyes, your own clear and sure and you kept that gaze as you parted your lips. Then swept your tongue along his thumb and tilted your head down just enough to take it between your lips. The vibranium was smooth, cold and it felt oddly delightful on your tongue. “Make me come, Bucky. Prove to me you’re better than the toys.” Your voice was low with need, a soft pleading note for him there as you gazed up through your eyelashes. 

The Arctic blue of his eyes deepened to near midnight, his pupils blowing out as he watched you talk around his thumb, your tongue sweeping over the metal and he almost purred, “Oh, baby, you won’t need toys when I’m done.” And then he was on you. 

He gently pulled his hand from your face, instead placing it lightly around your neck, the heavy metal settling on your collarbones and that alone drenched you. 

He looked between your eyes, checking one final time and then his mouth was lowering onto yours, his lips warm, plush and ever so inviting. Instantly, he licked a teasing line along your lips, which you would have parted for him without the request. 

Bucky’s tongue slipped past your lips, sweeping against yours in hot strokes as he explored every corner of your mouth. 

He tasted divine, and even more so when his thumb lightly tipped your chin back and he traced the tip of his tongue along the roof of your mouth, licking over the ridges and showing you exactly what that tongue could do. 

A groan left your lips, and you slid your hands up his arms to those shoulders, those gorgeous broad shoulders that all you wanted to do was dig your nails into them and use for support as you rode him. 

A deep curl of delight and joy was unfurling within the heat in your belly, because you needed this, needed more of him and his hands and his tongue and his words… and you were finally getting it

Hell, he had only just started kissing you and you already could have fallen apart just from that. 

“Why have we not been doing this all the time?” Was the only thought that your already fuzzy mind could come up with as he pulled away slowly from your lips, only to begin pressing hot, open kisses against your jaw that were all teeth and tongue. He seared a path to your neck, kissing all over until he found that particular spot that made you whimper and arch into his body. 

Bucky laughed low against your neck, the sound vibrating, “Oh, baby, you were struggling, weren’t you? I’ve barely even touched you and you’re already a mess…” He used his hand on your throat to tilt your head to the side, before biting at your skin, sweeping his tongue over the hot and sucking a deep mark there. 

A slight whine rippled in your throat, fingers pulling as his shirt and your chest pushed against his, the firm heat of him making your nipples tighten, especially when he pushed into you. 

Bucky slipped a hand between your bodies, tugging at the cord of your dressing gown and it slipped from your shoulders, leaving you bare and open to him. 

He licked down your neck, his tongue smoothing over the shape of your collarbones and then down your sternum to your breasts. He butterfly kissed the soft flesh, then almost delicately sucked at your rleft nipple, lifting his vibranium hand to squeeze the other, “So beautiful…” He mumbled it half to himself, his dark mussed up curls soft against your skin. 

One of your hands trailed up the back of his neck, slightly tangling in the hair at the base of his head and you pushed your chest further into his mouth, “Tease.” The word was a soft gasp, your eyes closing in pleasure and your lips parting. 

He chuckled, pulling back to blow a cool breath on the wet skin, watching your nipple harden and then he moved to give the other the same treatment, “Oh, I’m a tease, am I? I can stop if you like.” He grinned around the delicate skin, just slightly grazing his teeth as he tugged your nipple and then he continued his trail of kisses down your body, slowly sinking to his knees. “I don’t think you’ll ask me to stop though, darlin’.” His right hand grasped your ankle, and then he ghosted warm fingertips up your leg, past your knee and then pausing at your inner thigh, at what he felt there, “No. No I don’t think you’ll ask me to stop at all.” 

The cocky bastard grinned once more against your stomach, before dipping his tongue inside your belly button.

“Bucky…” You couldn’t hide the whimper in your voice, nor the way your hips rocked forward in a plea. It was almost painful how much you needed him to touch you, needed to feel his lips and his tongue. 

“Shhh, baby, I know.” His hands slipped up your waist, as soothing as his gentle coo against your belly button and then he brushed his lips lower and lower… and then finally, he pressed a soft butterfly kiss to your pubic bone. 

A low groan tore from his throat, his hands digging into the soft flesh of your hips as he saw you, swollen and positively dripping for him, “Oh, darlin’, look at you…” 

The sheer desire and awe in his low voice caused heat to flush along your cheekbones. You weren’t shy by any means, but the almost primal admiration in his voice was something you’d never heard before, the pure want and desire to make you feel good and worship you. 

Bucky admired the sight before him for a single moment, before lifting his eyes to yours and then he dove in, immediately devouring you like he was starving. His deft tongue slipped through your slick folds with ease, and he moaned again at your taste, at your smell, everything. 

He pressed his tongue flat against you before sucking at your clit, with such an intensity that you almost choked. It was a simple movement, but it shot electricity through your body and made every single nerve stand on end. 

He let that coil of energy begin to build, and then he licked back down, his hands sliding down to palm at your ass cheeks before digging his fingers into your skin, pulling you in further so he could bury his nose against your clit and his tongue – fuck, his tongue pushed inside of you, hot and heavy. It just felt so, so good, his nose putting pressure on your bundle of nerves, his tongue pumping inside you. 

Your hands flew down to his hair, winding through it to keep him there, keep him doing that, to keep him fucking you with his tongue, “Buck-”. You weren’t sure what you were begging him for, only that you just needed to say his name, needed to do something. 

Your hips began to rock in time with his thrusts, and you became aware of it only when Bucky’s muffled moan reverberating through you. 

He liked it, no... he loved this, that you were grinding against his face as his tongue worked inside you, tasting parts of you no one else had ever gotten right before. 

“Fuck, Bucky, keep doing that – I’m-” You cut off with a high moan, your head tilting back as you rocked into him faster, chasing down that high that was so tantalisingly close. It hadn’t taken long, you were so worked up from your failed attempts that you were already there. 

Bucky’s began to lick and suck you with new fervour, his head moving in time with the jerks of his hips, feeling the way your walls were tightening around his tongue. His fingers dug harder into your ass, and you felt the silent command almost, Come. 

And you did. 

You cried his name out to the sky, every nerve in your body winding to near painful tautness before you shattered on his face, your first orgasm ripping through you. 

Bucky didn’t stop, working you through it and drawing it out further and further as he lapped up every single drop you gave him, moaning himself like it was the most tantalising thing he had ever tasted. 

He stopped only when your grip released on his hair, the sensitivity of your nerves almost painful, your legs shaking like crazy and he lifted his hand from between your thighs, his lips and chin glistening. He rose from his knees, nudging you back onto the bed and instantly crawling up your body, “You have no idea how good you taste.” 

You whimpered slightly, catching your breath as you watched him crawl up you, eyes burning like sapphire fire, his tongue licking slowly over his lips as he savoured you. Words were beyond you, desire still coursing through your veins and you were a little in awe at how quickly – and hard – he had brought you to your first orgasm. 

Bucky grinned devilishly, “That won’t be your last.” He lowered his mouth back to yours and as you tasted yourself on him, you grew instantly wet for him again. 

His body brushed into yours and you felt how painfully hard he was through his jeans, the sounds and taste of you getting to him of course. 

Your fingers had barely brushed against his restrained length when he shook his head, nipping at your lower lip, “Oh no, baby, this is all about you.” 

You ignored him, palming him through his jeans and he moaned lowly before his eyes flashed, his hand suddenly back on your throat and he moved his hips away so you couldn’t get to him. “I said no.” It was almost a snarl, “This is about you. Not me.” His hand tightened just slightly around your throat, making it that little bit harder to breathe and your eyes rolled back at how delicious it felt. 

It was a huge kink for you, the idea of someone – of Bucky - taking control, being in control of your body even it was just for a little while. You didn’t need to think or do anything. Only feel and be at the mercy of his touch. 

You relented, legs falling open for him and you tilted your head back, searching for his lips. 

Bucky granted you the kiss, a slow, languid kiss at first that was all simmering passion and tangling tongues, the taste on you still lingering on his lips. 

He palmed your breast again, tugging and squeezing the flesh until he scratched his nails lightly down your ribcage and belly. 

Yes, yes-

He wasted no time, no more playing and his fingers slipped lower, circling over your clit with a delicious pressure that had you instantly moaning into his mouth.

He toyed with your clit a little more, before gathering your wetness and then sinking two fingers inside you, pushing all the way into his knuckles, then drawing back out slowly. 

As he withdrew, you moaned long and slow into his mouth and he began a steady rhythm. Pushing and curling his fingers inside you a few steps, then circling and pulling at your clit, ever so subtly switching it up with each pass so you couldn’t predict what he would do.  

It felt amazing, but… there was something still missing. It still wasn’t quite enough to send you over that final edge… it wasn’t what you’d been fantasising about. 

No, it was his left hand. That dark, golden vibranium hand that was currently seated around your throat. 

The knowledge of what it could do, the sheer power in it that could easily crush your windpipe or shatter your jaw with a single flick of his wrist. 

That is what you needed. 

Those cool, powerful fingers inside you, working you over – that was the best toy. 

It was like he could read your mind somehow, or the way your body sung to his tune. He lifted his head, looking down at you with those searing blues and he cocked his head, a slow grin lighting his gorgeous face, “Oh… This-” he scissored his fingers inside you, stretching your walls and ever so slightly brushing up against that spot, “isn’t quite what you want, is it, darlin’?” 

Holy Christ, he was going to destroy you before you even got what you wanted.

You looked up at him, panting, hips rocking to the slower thrust of his fingers and you shook your head.

Bucky swore softly, panting himself and he squeezed your throat once before lifting his fingers, “You want these, don’t you?”

Instead of answering him, you ducked your head, taking his three fingers into your mouth and immediately gliding your tongue around them, up and down in slow, dirty strokes. 

The effect was instantaneous. Bucky’s hips jerked slightly against yours, his mouth parting as he watched you suck his vibranium fingers, hollowing your cheeks, eyes rolling back in your head like… like it was something else entirely. 

He groaned, swore again and then almost ripped his fingers from your mouth and from between your legs at the same time. 

Your entire body mourned the loss, feeling empty, clenching around nothing but mere seconds later, he plunged those three vibranium fingers inside of you, slick with your saliva and how unbelievably wet you were. 

It stung a little, but only added to the feeling as your hips rose off the bed, “Shit, shit-”

They felt… like the best toy you could ever imagine. Smooth, cold, and hard enough that you could feel every faint ridge of the joints as he slid them in and out. You reached out, grabbing his arm with one hand and the bed with the other, needing something to hold onto as instinct took over. Your hips rode upwards, back arching as you rocked his fingers in deeper, feeling them in your spine almost. It was better than you could have imagined. 

Bucky dropped his head to your chest, spreading his mouth over your breast and his other arm slid over your hips, pinning them to the bed so you were forced to take it. “You wanted this, baby… You take it.” He bit down on the soft flesh of your breast before smoothing his tongue over it again, working an alternative rhythm to his fingers and thumb again, so that your brain couldn’t keep up with which one to follow. It knew only the waves of fire singing through your veins.  

Time may have very well dissolved, because you could only feel pleasure, tinged almost with pain. 

The thick, hard stroking of fingers as they stretched and wrecked you. 

The circling, hard-soft-hard pressure of his thumb on your clit. 

The bite of his teeth on your breasts, neck and chest, followed by the wet press of his tongue. 

The way he couldn’t help his hips slightly rocking against your leg. 

This was almost like a fever dream, expect your brain couldn’t have come up with something this mind melting. Not even if you were really, really worked up. 

The noises in the room were absolutely sinful. The unrestrained cries and moans from your lips, Bucky’s groans and his filthy words, the wet pump of his fingers inside you – it was obscene, filthy and completely, painfully mind-blowing. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Bucky, please-” You had no idea what you were begging for, but every single nerve and muscle in your body was coiling tighter and tighter, your hips jerking against his arm as he pinned you down, forcing you to take this, to feel everything he was doing with no relenting. Tears were beginning to blur your eyes and the pleasure he unleashed upon you was almost painful. 

Bucky somehow moved his fingers harder, deeper, the ability of the tech in his arm allowing him to do so, “Let go, baby, come on, let it go for me..” He dropped his head, biting down on your neck and he pressed his fingers against that spot inside you, flicking your clit with his thumb and then it all just snapped. 

Waves and waves of hot fire flooded your body, dragging you up to the stars, further. It ripped the air from your lungs, made you half scream his name in a never-ending prayer. 

It just didn’t stop. 

Bucky kept moving inside you, drawing out every single second of your mind-shattering orgasm, letting go of your hips so you could grind them into his hand. “That’s it, baby… Look at you, so beautiful like that…” His praise spurred you on, making you feel almost like a goddess as you flooded his hand. 

He stopped only when you slumped back onto the bed, sucking in deep breaths as you tried to piece yourself back together. 

Better than toys indeed. 

~~

A little while later, you stirred from a light dose to see Bucky lounging on your couch again, cleaning the grooves and metal of his fingers with a soft cloth. 

The sight of him concentrating, taking such care and detail with the clean-up, the cleanup from the mess you had made, had you instantly wet again. “Bucky.” 

He looked up, hearing the low thrum to your voice and a smirk crossed his lips. 

You had a favour to repay for his helping hand, after all. 

[bump1nthen1ght]

I’m Still Hurting (F!Reader/M!Orc)

Pairings: Fem!Reader/Male!Orc

Genre: Urban Fantasy, Angst

Warnings: (Almost) Infidelity

Word Count: 3376 words

Summary: Your boyfriend does something he’d never thought he’d do, and you’re left to try and pick up the pieces.

Request: can I make a request? About an angst story between an m!orc and f!human. I like the idea of like maybe the orc sorta misses being with other orc women or like she can't fulfill his needs and she hears this. I like the idea of almost infidelity

A/N: Surprise bitches! I’m alive! And back with some delicious angst for y’all!! I really loved doing this request, as I don’t often write full on angst. I am also working on a fluffy request  at the moment, if some of you would like some nice comfort after this haha. Hope y’all enjoy!

Honey ❤️: Babe

Honey ❤️: Babe please answer the phone I need to talk to you

Honey ❤️: I know you’re angry, you should be angry, but please talk to me

Honey ❤️: Baby please

“____? Is that my phone?” Brynn yells from the kitchen, already mixing another cocktail for you to down. Her bright red horns peek over the living room divider, bouncing back as she grabs the alcohol from the fridge. Still looking at your bright screen, you don’t even have the energy to respond.

“____?” You throw your phone away as she peaks her head over, giving her a shameful look. Brynn furrows her brow, pulling away from the kitchen island and putting one hand on her hip. “Was that him?” With your eyes darting back and forth from the pillow you shoved your phone under and Brynn’s face, you nod.

“Y-yeah, it was him.”

Brynn sighs, fiddling with her hands.

“Listen, I don’t want to tell you what to do, especially not tonight, but I just think-”

“No, no, it’s alright. You’re right, you’re right.” A jolt hits you as your phone vibrates, the vibrations rumbling through the fabric and stabbing right into your stomach. You force yourself to look away, fiddling with your fingers. Brynn shoots you a pitiful look, you’re sure of it, even as your efuse to meet her gaze. “I shouldn’t talk to him tonight. Not right now, not when I’m like….this.” A slow, tired breath escapes you. “I’ll make him wait, just like he did.”

The coach cushion bends as Brynn sits next to you, rubbing your shoulder as she leans in for a side each. You accept it, your body like a deadweight as you let yourself go slack in her arms.

“Do you want anything? Chocolate, maybe a movie? I’ve got some leftover cheesecake?”

“A movie sounds nice.” You murmur, nodding against her chest. Brynn hums, her tail coming up and massaging your lower back as she kisses you on the forward.

“Of course, your choice. Do you want me to get your drink?”

You nod once more, letting Brynn untangle herself from the hug and laying back on the couch, grabbing the comfiest blanket and the remote. You quickly flick through you and Brynn’s ‘most watched’ section on Netflix. You need something new tonight, something to get your mind off.

All your regular comfort movies are romances, after all.

By the time Brynn comes back, a rum and coke and a carton of ice cream in hand, you’re already snuggled into a blanket burrito. She hands you a spoon and the glass, which you wordlessly accept. She sits down and throws a hand over your shoulder, trying her best to massage the left over tension in your neck. You sink into the feeling, pressing on your movie of choice.

“Mad Max: Fury Road, huh? I’ve heard this movie’s great.”

“Yeah,” you whisper, “It is.”

And chocked full of shitty men getting what they deserve.

As the opening title plays, the deep voice of Tom Hardy kicking the movie off, you snuggle into Brynn’s side. Your phone buzzes again, but it’s drowned out by screaming men and loud engines. Just how you like it.

Honey ❤️: Could you call me in the morning?

Honey ❤️: I’ll leave you alone for the night, I’m sorry

Honey ❤️: I love you

--------

Waruck sighs, his fingers shaking as another small ‘message delivered’ shows up on his screen. No response, just like the last 15 texts. He finds himself typing out another anyway.

I love you so fucking much

It reads, but is quickly deleted. Waruck clicks off his phone, but it stays in his hand, taunting him. The black mirror shows a sad, pathetic boyfriend, getting the silent treatment.

He falls back onto his bed, exhausted from a day of doing nothing. Nothing but worrying and feeling guilty, with the occasional flicking through TV channels and texting his girlfriend.

It’s getting late, his bedside clock cutting through the dark of his room to remind him he’s been up for almost 16 hours now. Waruck slides a hand through his hair and gets up. He’s going to have to camp out in front of the TV, because he knows he won’t be able to sleep tonight.

Not after what he did.

--------

He had gone out with friends. Friends from highschool who he still occasionally chatted with, friends he didn’t even really like anymore. But the past two weeks had him feeling oddly...nostalgic, like something was out of place. So when his buddy Simon had invited him to the bar, he had eagerly accepted.

He remembers grabbing his coat, you sending him a text to have fun, and him not replying. He didn’t know why he didn’t respond, he still doesn’t. The two of you had been going strong for almost 8 months now, with only the occasional hiccup that most couples have. So why didn’t he respond? What made him casually throw your sweet remark to the side like that?

Waruck shakes his head, trying to focus on the movie in front of him. Now isn’t the time to get existential over tiny shit like that, not with how the rest of the night went.

When he met up with the group, Waruck immediately knew that tonight was going to be different. His current group of friends are quite different, less rowdy, than his old posse. At only 10 PM, three of the guys we’re already halfway drunk, saving a spot in line from him outside the noisy bar. The electronic music that thrummed through the concrete and out onto the street reminded him of how much time has passed, how different his usual party-scene is now, and he revels in that feeling of former good-times.

Simon greets him with a hug, the guys shouting his name as he joins them. From the corner of his eye, he sees a gaggle of girls giggling.

And that's where it started.

An orc woman, dressed in a beautiful black dress, winks as she passes him at the bar. Simon nudges his side as Waruck takes a drink.

“Dude, that chick is totally sending you the look”

Waruck furrows his brow, stirring his drink.

“What’s ‘the look’?” He says, taking another sip of his scotch.

Simon rolls his eyes. “The ‘come hit on me’ look dude! That’s the sign you need to go for it!”

“I have a girlfriend, Simon.”

Simon scoffs, throwing his hand out dramatically. “What, that human chick?”

Waruck has half of mind to set down his drink and ask Simon what he means with that sarcastic tone of voice. It pisses him off, but he says nothing, just rolls his eyes.

“No offense, bro, she looks cute and all. But is she really worth missing out on some great ass?”

Waruck grimaces and shoots Simon a dirty look. “Jesus, Simon, are you serious?”

“I’m serious! When was the last time you had fun, y’know? Everyone knows an orc chick can throw down, wild-style.” Simon nudges him in his side, playfully, but it only serves to make Waruck more annoyed. “C’mon, you seriously don’t miss it?”

Waruck should tell him a firm ‘No’, finish his drink, and leave. He should call a cab and go home, call you and rant about his gross misogynistic friend from high school.

But he doesn’t.

The part of him, the part of him that feels slightly off, wonders if this is it. It had been a long time since he had been with another orc. You were a great girlfriend, but so different from in so many ways. Is that it?

Maybe relieving the old days will satisfy whatever longing he has, and then it will leave forever. Would that be so bad, to let loose for one night?

Waruck feels a tap on his shoulder, and turns to see the orc girl from earlier; The one who sent him ‘the look’.

“Hey handsome, can I buy you a drink?”

Between the boosted bass of the music and the orc woman pressing up against him, Waruck doesn’t notice Simon slip away, giving him a pat on the back.

Leave, say no, tell her she’s got the wrong guy, you fucking idiot. His consciousness yells.

“U-uh, sure.” He stutters.

She introduces herself as Naz and says she noticed him the minute he walked in.

“Hard not to notice the best-dressed guy in the room.” She flirts, pressing herself closer and up against him.

He has a thousand little moments like that, to say something; To pull back and apologize, but he doesn’t.

Instead, he slips into a corner booth with her, purposely ignoring the texts you send to check up on him. You had remembered that he wasn’t sure how much fun this night would be, and routinely checked in if he needed a convenient excuse to leave early. You’re sweet like that.

Naz is sweet too. She's a great conversationalist, with a good head on her shoulders and an interesting career in zoology. Waruck could see the two of you being good friends.

Is that why she seems so alluring? Because she’s so similar to you? Waruck’s mind does mental gymnastics to try and justify his hesitance, his compliance in believing that maybe she has something different after all, even though he knows that isn’t true.

The two of them talk for a solid hour and a half, Naz slowly inching herself closer and putting a hand on his knee. His body screams in resistance, his stomach tying up into knots, but he doesn’t push her away.

“So, I’ve got a room not too far from here. What do you say we go make ourselves a bit more comfortable?”

This is his final chance to find an excuse and say goodnight. To run back home and forget this ever happened. But the words are caught in his throat and he’s further silenced by the nearby whooping of his asshole friends.

“Yeah, Waruck! Get some!”

Naz chuckles and mistakenly reads his seething anger at himself with embarrassment for his friends. She leans in, grabbing his jaw, and whispers.

“Let's give them a show, huh?” Then, she kisses him.

The noises of the bar, his friends, and Naz all drown away as her lips mold into his. Waruck’s body goes rigid, terrified as time seems to freeze as he kisses someone who is not his girlfriend.

But all of that stops when your ringtone begins to blast in his pocket. It should be near silent when compared to the pounding bar music, but that familiar jingle seems to cut deep into his skin and skewer his heart. Waruck pulls away with a quick jerk, Naz almost falling over as he pushes himself into his seat and away from her body-heat. Every nerve is a light with tension as he quickly pulls out his phone.

There on the screen is a picture of you, your contact name, “Sweetie❤️”, shining through the dimmed light of that bar. Waruck breathes heavily, feeling like he’s just run an emotional marathon, stuck in his own head until Naz slides away from him.

“Wait, hold on, do you have a girlfriend?”

Waruck looks at her, then looks at his still-ringing phone, then back to Naz. He nods.

Naz's face curls up into obvious disgust, quickly directing her body to be as far away from him as possible. “Fucking hell, dude. What the fuck?” She grabs her handbag and stomps out of the booth, not before throwing her drink in his face and telling him to go to hell.

He almost watches her move across the bar, most likely to go complain to her friends about the asshole she just wasted the last 2 hours chatting up, but all he can focus on is your picture on his phone.

--------

Waruck practically runs out of the bar, his whole body covered in sweat and his mind racing a mile a minute.

What the hell was wrong with him?

He felt like a 15 year old, goaded into another shitty prank just because he wanted to look cool in front of his friends, buying into their weird bullshit about humans. Was he seriously going to throw away your wonderful relationship over one night, over one urge?

Naz had been strikingly beautiful, in all the ways he was taught an orc like himself should look for. She could probably get any guy in that club tonight, but she wasn’t you. You’re different, but in so many cool, inconsequential, uniquely-you ways.

Waruck doesn’t know how long he walks before he sits down outside a cafe, trying to collect his racing emotions. He feels gross, sticky with the kind of sweat you only get after too much alcohol and too many people. The screen of his phone seems to reflect every smudge and finger-print as he swipes it to unlock it, finally getting the courage to read your text messages.

They start off normal, spread out over several hours. The occasional “How are the guys?” and “Hope you are having fun! Just let me know when you get home safe.” before dropping off into nothing. Right up until 20 minutes ago, where you send a short and curt text that has his heart dropping to his stomach.

Sweetie❤️: Can you call me right now?

Sweetie❤️: Waruck, I need to talk to you

Sweetie❤️: Are you still at the bar?

After that is a notification of your missed call from earlier and Waruck can’t help but feel  guilt stir in his gut.

It could be nothing, something unrelated to what he almost did tonight. But the notification he gets from his Instagram says otherwise. It says a mutual of his tagged him in a photo 30 minutes ago.

Waruck feels like vomiting when he opens up Simon’s story and sees a shaky picture of Naz, draped over him in the corner booth, with him looking all too happy to have her there. The caption reads

“At least someone’s getting lucky tonight 🤣🤣 #BoysNight20XX”

But what comes next is even worse; An even blurrier photo of Naz kissing him, both of their eyes closed as she almost sits in his lap.

Waruck can’t even look at the caption, quickly exiting out of the app and calling you.

He needs to explain himself.

But what will he say?

The phone rings, rings, rings….

Waruck waits with bated breath, thinking you’re going to let it go to voicemail, but you answer. There is no cheerful “Hi Babe” or even a tired and drawn-out “Hey.” Instead all Waruck hears is a shaky sigh, waiting for an explanation.

The words stay caught in Warucks throat, trying to find a way to maneuver and swing around to a solid excuse, a lie he hopes you won’t catch.

But he can’t, he can’t. Not to you.

So you make it easy for him, like you always do, and start the conversation off instead.

“Were you flirting with that girl?”

Waruck’s mind doesn’t give him a choice, the truth already spilling out like a tidal wave.

“Yes.”

Waruck hears you suck in a breath, before you shakily ask once more,

“Did you kiss her? Did you kiss her back?”

“Yes.”

There's 15 seconds of brutal silence as Waruck sits with his confession. In the moment, Waruck feels like he can hear your pounding heartbeat through the receiver.

You hang up.

---------

You hate the weather outside for two reasons.

One: You had far too much rum last night to enjoy any amount of sunlight. And,

Two: On a terrible morning like this one, it feels unfair that there aren't any dramatic thunder storms.

The bell rings on the cafe door as you walk in, causing you to wince as you pull down your sunglasses.

Thank god for the low lighting of these cafes.

You rub your brow, eyes scanning the menu above the bar. Some caffeine should do you good, at least with your headache.

But when you spot him, tucked away at a table, tapping his foot, all that aching pain seems to fall to your subconscious. Before you can meet eyes, you look away, forcing yourself to re-read the menu and blink away your tears.

You face the inevitable when you put in your order, turning to walk towards Waruck. He’s locked his gaze into the wood grain of the table, his large body hunched up and small, like he wants to sink into the shadows. He looks like shit, with large bags under his eyes and a nervous tension in his face.

He startles when you pull out a chair, sitting down across from him, but quickly curls back into his ball of shame. He looks so guilty, a small part of you wants to comfort him and tell him it’ll be alright.

You punch away that part of you with a baseball bat.

“Why did you flirt with her?”

Waruck says nothing. He looks at you with his tired eyes, big and racked with guilt.

I don’t know. They whisper.

Your fingers dig into your jeans, anger boiling up and through your nerves.

That’s not a good enough answer.

“Were you,” You suck in a breath, trying to control your volume, “Were you going to sleep with her? If I hadn’t called you, would you have-”

“No!” Waruck nearly shouts, shaking the table as his knees bang against the bottom, but he recoils once he sees the way you flinch. “No, I wasn’t going to.”

Those pesky tears press against your eyelids once more. You can feel your nails digging indents into your thighs.

“I don’t know if  I can believe that.” You whisper, failing to catch the crack in your voice.

Waruck’s brow furrows as he nervously chews his bottom lip. He tries to meet your gaze, but you seem to look right through him.

“I know.” Waruck sighs, bringing his hand up to rub the back of his neck.

There's a tenuous silence; Waruck tries to find the words to fix things  while you focus on the details of the cafe walls, examining every nook and cranny as you try not to sob.

“I-I understand if you don’t trust me. I understand if you hate me, or you want to break up. But please, please know that I love you, and that I’m sorry. I never wanted to hurt you. I’ve been kicking myself over flirting with that girl because I love you so fucking much. I-”

You hold up your hand, stopping Waruck in his tracks. He realizes how loud he’s been talking and that people are beginning to stare. He huddles back into his corner, tucking his hands into his lap. You let out a long breath. Waruck takes the risk and looks up.

When his eyes finally meet yours, he realizes just how sad you look. A treacherous tear has begun falling down your cheek, sending a lightning bolt of remorse into Waruck’s chest.

You take in another deep breath, wiping away the tear with the back of your hand. You look at Waruck, exhausted.

“I don’t,”  You falter, but catch yourself, “I don’t want to break up with you. I just don’t know if I’m ready to forgive you yet.”

Waruck nods, fiddling with his fingers.

“Of course, I get it-”

“I’m not done.” Waruck quickly shuts his mouth. “You hurt me, Waruck. Hurt me in a way I don’t think I’ll ever forget. So I need time. Time before I can even see you again without thinking,” You hiccup, but this time you let the wave of emotion hit you, full force.  “Without thinking about that night.”

A lady calls out your order, but neither of you makes a move. You sit in each other's presence, trying to wrap yourselves around the mess of emotions, trying to read the others mind without seeming too obvious.

You both sit here, in the presence of something that's been broken, damaged in a way that’s cut the heart of your chest and slams them on the table. There’s a crack that runs down between you two, inching open more and more with each breath.

But somehow, somehow, you both think you have a chance of fixing it.