#does any of this match the gif?

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Good moaning. 😇

Well, you're a menace and I sat thinking about how pretty Curtis's eyes were, how tempting his beard was, and how he would just love on you that it was all-consuming. So here we are, another unplanned piece that I am currently loving for them. Thank you babes!

All His

A Curtis x Honey Drabble.

Summary- Curtis can't get enough of you being his.

18+ Only Blog.

A/N- Thanks for reading! It would be appreciated if you could leave a comment and/or reblog if you enjoyed what you read.

Life Is Short So Make It Sweet Masterlist

If he was a patient man, he would draw you right now.

Sheets crumpled across the bed with you stretched across them, your hands pushed into your hair as your body arched, quivering still in the aftermath of your last orgasm.

Your legs were bent with your toes digging into the mattress, your thighs had slapped together earlier when he pulled away, an uncontrolled move on your part as you moaned his name. In relief or a plea, he wasn't sure, nor did he care.

Your ass pressed against the bed, muscles taunt as you still rode that high. His hands curled around your hips, thumbs circling to merely touch your soft skin there. Your arousal glinted in your pubic curls, making him bite his own lip with the temptation to bury himself into you again.

Tongue or cock, he really couldn't decide what was better, either way, what bliss for him. "Good girl Honey." He rumbled out when you gave a soft sob, you were still struggling to come back down in the sweetest way. Unable to help himself from making you squirm a little while longer, his hand dipped between thick clenching thighs to swipe his fingers slowly around your clit.

So slow as you were sensitive, the slight touch still made you jerk. "Curtis."

"I know Pretty Girl, but you are so beautiful right now, I just want to see you like this a little longer." Your belly quivered as your body tightened again at his touch, the arch in your back just bending you that much more beautifully, he did that, made you into living artwork for him.

His plush lips curled around a tight nipple, an offering he wasn't about to say no to. Your hands unraveled from your hair, grasping at the back of his head as he dragged in more, knowing you loved the sharpness of his teeth and warmth of his tongue. You pushed him harder against you as you gasped.

Did you know the needing ache your noises caused? He had to get another one just like it, Curtis wanted all those noises for him, just him. They made his eyes blow almost black as you made it again when he claimed your other nipple, his fingers still buried between your clenched thighs working just a bit faster. "Oh god..." You panted, your nails curling to scrape against his scalp and dropping to his shoulder to grab on tighter.

Sinking into the bunched muscle like it could possibly save you. "I'm gonna come." His mouth smirked against your breast. Hell yes you are, it's mine.

You finally collapsed, spent into the mattress, pushing now at his head to make him back off with a pathetic whimper. "Please Curtis."

"I got you Honey, you did so good." Curtis knew he had to stop, at least for a little bit. You were twitching at the slightest brush of his body against yours as he pulled himself up to cup your face, letting his mouth skim across your parted lips while you tried to catch your breath. "Always so good for me Pretty Girl."

You curled into him, and he pulled you in close, his hand rubbing at your back to help relax you. "Yeah?" came your voice finally, needing that reassurance. Curtis didn't mind, he knew that sometimes you struggled by how much he loved you, craved you, worshipped you. You never had that commitment before and you were still wrapping your mind around it being possible.

It was easy for Curtis to do.

"So good Baby, when you're ready, I'm going to fuck you so good, make you feel how hard you make me, every damn inch will be swallowed by your cunt." His words were whispered in your ear, making you shiver excitedly in his arms. You finally lifted your face enough to look at him, unable to hide the excited little grin, your teeth tugging at your bottom lip. A playful little moan escaped you as you moved your mouth close to his.

Curtis should be patient, but he had a raging hard-on for you now that was driving him to the brink. His lips crashed to yours, swallowing your noises for himself. Your hand swept between the two of you, wrapping your fingers around his cock, circling your thumbs tip around his head. "Fuck me Curtis."

"Spread those thighs Pretty Girl, let me see my cunt take this cock." Curtis ordered, splaying you on your back once again with your legs falling open for him, without any hesitation of what he would see. "Fucking beautiful."

[everlarking-always]

“I had a dream, though,” I say, thinking back. “I was following a mockingjay through the woods. For a long time. It was Rue, really. I mean, when it sang, it had her voice.” “Where did she take you?” he says, brushing my hair off my forehead. “I don’t know. We never arrived.” I say. “But I felt happy.” ... Peeta pulls the chain with the gold disk from around his neck. He holds it in the moonlight so I can clearly see the mockingjay. Then his thumb slides along a catch I didn’t notice before and the disc pops open. It’s not solid, as I had thought, but a locket. And within the locket are photos. […] “Your family needs you, Katniss,” Peeta says. My family. My mother. My sister. And my pretend cousin Gale. But Peeta’s intention is clear. That Gale really is my family, or will be one day, if I live. That I’ll marry him. So Peeta’s giving me his life and Gale at the same time. To let me know I shouldn’t ever have doubts about it. Everything. That’s what Peeta wants me to take from him. ... He puts the chain with the locket around my neck, then rests his hand over the spot where our baby would be. “You’re going to make a great mother, you know,” he says. ... As I drift off, I try to imagine that world, somewhere in the future, with no Games, no Captiol. A place like the meadow in the song I sang to Rue as she died. Where Peeta’s child could be safe. ....

[likesummerrainn]

[decemberelegy]

[slashpaws]

if i don't change the burntrap gifs back to scraptrap in my pinned right now the girl from the ring will get me

[lqvesoph]

Is it over now - LN4

lando norris x fem!reader

summary: your situationship with lando ended 10 months ago… or did it? based on taylor swift’s "is it over now"

warnings: toxic behavior, cheating, smut, p in v, dirty talk, handjob, fingering, edging, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, praise (with slight degradation)

a/n: you have no idea how long it took me to finish this and idk the word count but its long and filthy. Also this gif does things to me… just the way he looked that day🤌🏻 the curls the beard the cheekbones

masterlist | taglist

You knew he was gone. He left exactly 113 minutes ago. His flight had taken off 44 minutes ago. Angrily you turned around in your bed, kicking off the blanket and staring at the blank spot next to you where only three hours ago, Lando’s curly head had laid.

Since then you slept with each other. Again. And had a terrible screaming match. Again.

You knew it was for the better to let him go, you were toxic, your relationship, if you can call it that, had been from the very start two years ago when you drunkenly slept with each other after a celebration party.

Since then it’s been one hell of a ride. Neither of you were very good at the whole relationship and communication thing, so naturally your relationship was based on an endless circle of being somehow happy, until one of you screwed up, you fought, left and ended up in each others bed minimum three days later.

Some might say this behavior exhausts but for the two of you it was what made things exciting and addicting.

His touch, his lips, his body, HE was addictive.

But since the last time you broke up, things had changed. Lando had gotten a new girlfriend, something that made you mad as hell.

He knocked on your door last night, storming in and pinning you to the wall before violently attacking your lips with his.

But that wasn’t what made you mad, this was a rather regular occurrence any time one of you got a new partner. What made you mad was that when he woke up the next morning he didn’t stay like he usually would. He jumped out of bed, calling the previous night a 'mistake' and something that 'shouldn’t have happened'. On top of that he blamed you.

Naturally that resulted in your neighbors, once again, hearing a thirty minute screaming match which ended in you kicking Lando out of your door with the words "Don‘t ever call me or knock on my door again, especially not when you realize she can’t give you what you want!!" "I promise I won’t!!" "Oh you are a lying traitor!!".

You hated that even though he was gone for good now, he still wouldn’t leave your mind.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Fast forward to almost 10 months later. Mason, your very nice colleague picked you up from your office. You met on one of your threehundreds of awkward blind dates your friend had arranged, finding out that you actually worked for the same company. However that didn’t make the date any less awkward, because you mostly talked about work. But at least you kind of found a good friend now. You haven’t spoken to Lando since that night. To be perfectly honest, you didn’t think he actually wouldn’t come back.

"Hey, ready for that coffee?", he smiled.

You grabbed your bag and joined Mason. Together you walked to the cafe you‘ve been going to ever since the first time. You noticed he was a bit nervous for some reason, but you didn’t dare ask why, deep down you didn’t care but you wouldn’t admit that to yourself of anyone.

"Two latte‘s to go, please", Mason placed your order. While you waited you pulled out your phone to check some new messages from your friends.

"Lando Norris spotted with yet another model", Mason read the most recent headline when he opened twitter. "Can you believe that guy, huh?", he huffed.

"I bet she’s got blue eyes", you huffed and shook your head when Mason showed you a picture of the blonde girl with blue eyes who basically looked like your clone. "Predictable." "What?", Mason asked confused. "Oh nothing, I happen to know all his girls literally look the same", you fake smiled but thankfully Mason didn’t notice. For some reason he didn’t know about Lando and you when you met and you were rather happy about keeping it that way.

Sure Lando and you never paraded each other around on Instagram, you never actually were together long enough to feel comfortable with announcing your situationship, but you have been spotted together multiple times in the paddock or at parties.

Mason didn’t need to know about the boy who still kept you up some nights.

Your coffees were placed in front of you, making you look up and hesitate for a second. "Here you go", the waiter smiled and for a few seconds you saw Lando in front of you.

The dark brown curls, the green eyes and lord that smile, it reminded you of him.

"Thanks", Mason replied on your part and grabbed the coffees. "You good?", he asked. You simply nodded, still a little in your thoughts.

"Okay good because I’ve been wanting to ask you something", he said, glancing to you. "Hmm?"

"We‘ve been going on these take out coffee dates for almost 10 months now, and I remember how beautiful our first one was, the blind date. So I’ve been wondering, would you like to be my girlfriend?", Mason asked, glancing down at you to catch your reaction.

You looked at him with a blank face and simply nodded. "Uh-hmm", you muttered, your mind still some place elsewhere, more specifically at one of yours and Lando‘s good nights, with his head between your thighs.

"That’s great!", Mason called happily and brought you into a hug.

"Uh-hmm."

"I think we should go out tonight and celebrate this!", Mason spoke excitedly, pressing a kiss to your temple.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Mason told you to invite a few friends as he did the same so you decided to ask your two best friends to come. And same as you, they were never one to turn down an invitation to a night out.

"So, you’ve been acting a little weird ever since we’ve been here", Mia pointed out, taking a sip from her drink. "Mason asked me to be his girlfriend", you dryly replied, making Mia almost spit out her drink again and Laura shockingly turn her head towards you.

"What?!!", they called in unison. You nodded, taking another sip of your drink. "Well, did you say yes?", Laura pressed, both hers and Mia’s eyes staring you down intensely.

"Uh-hmm", you gave the same answer as to Mason a few hours prior. "That’s- uh great", Mia stuttered over her words for a bit. Her and Laura look each other before Mia looked away.

"Fine, if you won’t say it I will. Finally!!! I’m so damn happy you finally completely moved on from Lando and found someone who treats you better than that piece of junk", Laura started rambling and just in that moment your eyes locked with the devil Laura has been talking and you’ve been thinking about.

No fucking hell. That couldn’t be true.

How can it happen that after 10 months of not running into Lando once while clubbing, toady was the day where it happened?

"We both weren’t great in that relationship", you muttered, slightly defending Lando without even meaning to, your eyes still locked with his.

An arm wrapping around your waist pulled you out of the staring contest. "Hey babe", Mason whispered in your ear and placed a sweet kiss to your temple. You internally cringed at the nickname and the rotting sweet gesture.

Laura’s eyes sparkled at the sight of you, while Mia caught your annoyed looking gaze. She was always the one who understood you and Lando the most out of all of your friends. Maybe because she was such a sweet and genuine human that she believed both of you could change for each other or probably she simply understood how attached you grew to each other that no matter what, that bond wouldn’t break.

And judging from the fact how Lando and you captivated each other just moments ago, that bond also didn’t break in the last 10 months apart.

"We’ll go take a smoke, you wanna come?", Laura asked but you shook your head. Ever since the whole thing with Lando started you never touched a cigarette again. He didn’t like it, it was unhealthy and being with someone who doesn’t smoke made you smoke less as well, until you stopped completely.

"You should really enjoy life a little again", Laura replied, knowing your reasons to quit smoking.

"Maybe I’ve just come to the realization that I don’t need to poison my lungs to enjoy life", you simply answered, rolled your eyes and turned away.

"Can you get me something to drink?", you asked Mason who was still gently rubbing your waist, actually only wanting to bring some distance between the two of you. "Uh yeah sure, what do you want?", he asked. "Just bring me anything", you replied, stepping out of his embrace as a sign for him to get going.

He nodded and turned around but not before placing a gentle kiss to your forehead. You cringed internally.

"Y/n?", his voice suddenly spoke behind you, making your whole body freeze. Lando’s hand wrapped around your waist and pulled you in, something he did quite often when you were 'together'. "What are you doing here?", he whispered and you immediately felt your legs weakening. You had no idea why your body immediately reacted to him and you hated yourself for it.

Lando only smirked when he noticed you wobbling a little and gripped your waist tighter. "Missed me?", he muttered, placing a gentle kiss on your exposed shoulder, making your eyes flutter and your body lean back into his.

"300 days later and you still react to my touch like that", he smirked.

"He really can’t give it to you properly, I can see that from the way he was holding you", Lando snorted, making fun of Mason and you didn’t feel the slightest need to defend your boyfriend because you knew Lando was right.

"You shouldn’t", you warned Lando before hearing someone clear their throat behind you.

Lando dropped his hand from your waist and his gaze darkened when he saw Mason standing behind you

Said boy pulled you into a possessive hug.

"Hey, babe", he smiled, pressing a kiss to your temple before handing you your drink.

You sniffed before realizing it was Vodka Coke. A smirk made its way on Lando’s face when he saw your drink and your reaction. You knew he knew that you hated Coke.

"And you are?", Mason let his eyes wander to the curly headed boy in front of you. "Lando", he muttered, ignoring Mason who held out a hand for him to shake. "Okayyy", Mason whispered. "You wanna dance?", he then turned to you. You simply nodded and accepted his hand that led you into the crowd of people.

Mason pulled you in, wrapping his arms around your waist. "Isn’t that the guy with all of those girls?", he asked, leaning closer to your ear so you’d understand his words over to loud music.

"Lando Norris, yes", you nodded, interwinding your fingers behind Mason’s head. "Do you know each other?"

Flashbacks of Lando and you floated your mind. Driving along the French Riviera in his McLaren, the occasional stop to get in a quickie, or the sneaking away from his engineers to meet in his drivers room. And finally, him peacefully sleeping next to you on that one damned night, his curls a mess on his head, his torso bare with a few red marks on his back from your activities before and his beautiful eyes shut.

"No", you simply replied before placing your lips on Mason’s to get him to stop asking questions.

Mason more than happily gave in, letting his hand wander down to your ass, gently rubbing it. You kissed him harder, wanting him to be a little bit rougher as well, to firmly grab you and not just delicately touch you.

But instead he backed off.

"Woah, what’s gotten into you today? This is totally not like you!", he stated with a confused smile, which made you even angrier. Of course this was like you, he just didn’t know you well enough.

"I’ll be in the restroom for a second", you rolled your eyes before leaving him standing alone in the middle of the dance floor.

You pushed open the heavy door to the women’s restroom, being thankful that no one was there before putting your hands on the marble counter and leaving your head hanging.

Until the locking of the main door made your head shoot up. And to be perfectly honest, you half expect him to follow you in here.

"What happened to your newest toy?", Lando smirked, leaning against the now closed door. You rolled your eyes and didn’t reply.

Lando pushed himself off the door and walked closer to you until he stood directly behind you, looking at you through the mirror. "Don’t roll your eyes at me, baby", he warned.

"Now tell me what happened to that guy? Realized he couldn’t give you want you want?", Lando smirked, quoting your words from the night you last saw each other. You shook your head, not wanting to give into him.

"Come on baby, I saw your face. You didn’t like the gentle touches in the middle of a club dance floor, admit it!", he dared you.

"'Newest toy', what do you think of me? That I slept around with everyone that was in a 1 mile radius of me?", you ignored his words and stared at him through the mirror.

"Did you think I didn’t see you? There were flashing lights", you huffed. "Maybe I wanted you to see me and please baby, don’t play all innocent", he whispered, still standing behind you but coming dangerously close now.

"At least I had the decency to keep my nights out of sight unlike you!!", you called.

"Oh baby, don’t you think I‘ve heard the rumors? About your hips…", Lando stepped forward and let his hands trailed over your hips, "and thighs…", he let them wander further down to your thighs, gently rubbing the exposed skin. You let out a sigh at the familiar feeling and closed your eyes in pleasure, "and those whispered sighs", he smirked and quickly turned you around before lifting you up on the bathroom counter.

"Exactly rumors", you breathed, before he smashed his lips on yours.

Lando’s hands immediately grabbed your legs, opening them so he could stand between them. Then they went to your waist to pull you in closer.

Lando groaned at the feeling of you finally back in his arms.

His hands kept scanning over your body, squeezing your boobs which made you throw your head back and let out a deep moan.

"Been waiting to get my hands on you again for so long, baby," he breathed heavily, speaking into your skin as his fingers fumbled open the top of your blouse. His lips trailed over your exposed chest and stopped just under your collarbone, sucking the fragile skin between his lips.

"You’re saying you missed me?", you teased, trying hard to push the words out before another moan interrupted you. Lando grinned and ripped open the buttons of the white silk blouse, allowing your tits to spill out.

Lando swore he could come from that sight alone. "You're so gorgeous," he muttered, more to himself than to you, before looking back into your eyes.

His lips attacked yours again while his large hand worked your bra covered boobs.

Your eyes fluttered, feeling that all too familiar ache in your core while the large size of his palm against you, made you think of those thick, veiny fingers between your thighs.

Your hips pressed against his, feeling his hard cock against you, making you smirk.

Lando's eyes darkened as you ground yourself against him, faster, harder. His one hand tightening around your waist and his head falling forward on your shoulder.

"Admit it, darling", you whispered into his ear. You could tell me was holding back a moan, his restraint hanging by a thread, and every move you made threatened to break that thread.

You wanted to make him snap, an evil smirk brightening on your face as you moved your hips faster.

While he closed his eyes, you took the opportunity to fiddle with the metal belt around his hips, opening it along with the button and zipper of his jeans.

"Can’t wait, can you, you desperate little whore", Lando smirked, watching you push down his jeans and slide your hands inside his boxers to grab his cock.

Lando's head fell back with a groan as you started pumping his hard cock.

"Missed your hands, darling", he groaned, holding on to your waist tighter when you trailed your finger over his swollen tip before pulling your hand back, tracing them down his abdomen.

"Please, Lan", you begged, knowing your whispered words would make him weak. But he’s been playing this game just as long as you were.

His fingers slipped under the hem of your skirt, quickly stroking up to your clothed core. A heavy moan escaped your mouth.

Lando caressed the inside of your thighs while his lips traced down your neck, leaving a few marks here and there.

His finger pushed your laced thong to the side before lightly gracing your pussy, making your hips buckle into his hands. "Lan-", you moaned. An evil smirk spread on his face. "Now who’s desperate?", Lando whispered, repeating the action twice, pulling away way too quickly.

"I hate you", you breathed, throwing your head back before grabbing his wrist and holding it in place.

Lando shook his head but finally gave in and dipped the tip of his finger inside you. Your grip on his wrist tightening. "M-more", you slightly pleaded, trying your best not to sound too desperate but failing miserably.

"I’ve missed watching you react to me like this, still the very same as the first day", he said, pushing a second finger inside you to stretch you out. A high pitched moan left your throat and your hand let go of his wrist to grip the edge of the marble counter.

His lips were still traveling along your half exposed upper body, one hand pulling down your left bra cup, making your boob spill out before he took your nipple between his lips.

"Lando- I-", you moaned loudly, thanking heaven that he locked the door when he came in and gripping the counter tighter, your knuckles almost turning white.

He pulled his fingers out of you, making you whine at the feeling of emptiness, before you felt his hand trying to get your thong off. You lifted your hips a little to help him, watching as he pushed your underwear in the back pocket of his trousers.

"You should see yourself, darling", Lando smirked mockingly, his fingers being welcomed by her glistening pussy as he traced them along your slit.

"So desperate for me", he cooed, watching your eyes close and a frown forming on your forehead as you moaned.

"It’s funny how eager you are for everything I give you, baby", he chuckled humorless. "You won't call for months and now you want my cock inside of you?"

You whimpered at his words, all while he slowly inserted his finger inside you again.

"Lando- oh my- please", you continued whimpering and pleading, making Lando smirk. "What is it, baby? You're gonna have to tell me exactly what you want, you know how this works", he cooed into your ear.

He was teasing and you knew that, you have experienced it multiple times before. You didn’t want to give into him but damn his long thick fingers and how they felt inside you. You mind already playing images of him fucking you till you’re nothing but a whimpering mess.

"C’mon", Lando demanded firmly. "You've always been mouthy with me, even earlier, so why are you being quiet now, huh?"

"Lan- lando please, more", you whined, while moving your hips on his finger to get some sort of relief. "I just need more, please", you begged slightly, your eyes closed and not wanting to look at the winning smirk on Lando’s face.

"But you already have a boyfriend, mylady", Lando reminded you with an evil grin. You shook your head, the mess of your hair whipping around. "N-no", you tried to deny as he added a second finger.

"Just wanna cum, please- fuck!", you muttered as Lando curled his fingers inside you.

Lando, completely ignoring you, continued with his question. "What more could you possibly want?"

"I want your cock- so bad, just fill me up- fuck, Lando- fuck me, please- I-", you begged, your eyes tired but glistening in desperation and lust. "Jus’ wanna- want you to fuck me hard and fill- uhh- I wanna be full with you please, please Lando", at this point you didn’t even care anymore that you sounded like a desperate slut.

You’ve gone 10 months without seeing Lando in person, of course you had your fair share of fucks but you couldn’t pretend that any of them came even close to pleasuring you the way Lando was able to.

"Such a needy girl", he tsked before wiping you tears away, that you didn’t even notice had started falling down your cheeks. You clenched around Lando’s fingers, loving the way his voice sounded in your ear.

"Oh you want to cum?", Lando looked at you with a devious smile. "Do you think you deserve that?" Before you could reply, you felt his lips pressing against yours, his tongue gliding between your lips without being met with a lot of resistance.

He hummed in satisfaction, tasting the alcohol from the drink you previously had on your mouth before he pulled away, only to let his tongue trail from your lips, over your neck and down to your chest as he sucked on your skin, leaving a dark purple mark on your breast. You were too far gone to realize anything until the sudden bite of Lando's teeth on your nipple shocked you out of your daydream.

"I asked you a question, baby", Lando hummed, licking over your hardened nipple. You blinked down at him, seeing a little blurry. "W-what?"

His grin was wickedly evil as he looked up at you. "Aw, poor baby's already going cock dumb and I haven't even fucked you yet." Your cheeks heated but didn’t give you time to reply before slamming his cock inside you.

You gasped loudly, grabbing the back of his neck for leverage and letting out a strangled cry as Lando continued to fuck into you at high speed.

There was truly no one who could fill you up like he did.

The sound of his hips clashing against yours and both of your strangled moans were the only thing left to hear in the restroom. You felt your pussy clench around Lando’s cock, making him moan into your shoulder. He moved his fingers from rubbing the side of your waist to your clit, touching the already sensitive bundle of nerves and rubbing it as you cried out.

"God! Fuckin- hell- ohh!"

"I think God is the last person to help you right now, darling", Lando chuckled but got interrupted by a moan as your walls clenched around him again. You felt yourself nearing your orgasm with every rock of his hips.

"Fuck, baby you’re so tight", he moaned. "You have no idea how much I missed this tight fucking hole, perfectly clenching around my cock like this- ohh", Lando spoke in a light whisper, rubbing eight figures on your clit.

Your legs shook as you felt your orgasm approaching, your walls tightening. "Fuck, Lando, I- shit, I- I’m cumming!", you let out a breathy moan once more before clenching one last time. Your vision going blurry while your pussy kept throbbing around his cock.

"Lando, please I need-", you winced at the oversensitivity when he kept pounding into you. "Time", you breathed through a moan, gripping the back of his neck tighter as you felt another orgasm approaching. All while Lando never stopped fucking into you even when you came for a second time in a row.

The overstimulation leaving you as a sobbing mess. "Lan- lando, it’s too much! I- I can’t- fuck! 'm cumming, Lando-", you cried, tears streaming down your face, you head falling forward on his chest, not having the ability to keep it upright anymore.

"Yeah? You’re cumming again?", Lando mocked you, rocking his hips a bit slower.

"But I missed you so much, haven’t you missed me?"

"I- missed you- fuck! So much- so fucking much", you cried, your walls repeatedly clenched around his cock.

"Fuck! Lando!", you called pathetically when he started to pick up his pace again and relentlessly started hammering inside you, chasing his own orgasm.

You couldn’t do anything apart from moan, cry and clench around him, feeling another orgasm approaching as well.

"Shit- I’m so close", Lando groaned as a whisper, pulling you closer to him and placing his lips on yours. "I’m cumming- baby- I’m-", he whispered against your lips. Your body already going limp against his as you felt him filling you up with his cum.

A deep and breathy moan left his lips as he slowed down his pace. You felt the sticky liquid dropping out of you and running down the inner side of your leg.

Lando whipped it up with his finger and held it in front of your mouth. Without hesitation you took his finger inside your mouth, swirling your tongue around it and closing your eyes at the taste of his cum on your lips.

Lando gently rocked his hips again, making you whine. "Not again, Lando- please I- I need a minute", you winced, feeling way too overstimulated after cumming so many times in a row.

"Shh, baby it’s okay, just tryna fuck my cum back into you, to make sure it stays there until I can go back inside you again", he reassured you, before slowly pulling out, making you gasp and wince at the feeling of emptiness.

Exhausted you placed your head on his chest and closed your eyes while he held your waist.

"So did you find something greater in all those models’ beds?", you said with a dumbfound smirk forming on your lips, your mind still hazy while trailing your fingers over his bare chest. You felt his chest vibrating as he laughed and shook his head with a smirk. "Oh baby, I think you know exactly that nothing compares to you!"

You chuckled and lifted your head as he reached over to the paper towels and started cleaning your inner leg up a little. "What do we do now?", you asked, a hint of insecurity in your voice, as the reality of your situation came crushing down on you. "Well, I for damn hope you won’t go back to that milk boy", Lando chuckled, reaching for his belt to close his trousers again after tucking his cock away.

You stayed silent, your blouse still halfway open, your body too tired to move. Lando looked into your eyes before reaching to cover you up again. "You wanna come to mine?", he asked while closing the last button of your blouse.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Getting out of the club without Mason seeing you turned out easier than expected, however something you didn’t expect were people hanging around in front of the monegasque nightclub.

As soon as you opened the door, you already heard yours and Lando’s name being called and saw at least ten phones recording you.

Well, now Mason knows anyway, you thought while Lando grabbed your hand tighter and pulled you to his car quickly. Both of you waved a few times while passing the fans but stayed silent for the short walk. Lando opened the door for you before jogging around to get to the drivers side.

You snuggled into the seat of his familiar car, that wore his familiar scent and when Lando started up the car, he put his familiar hand on your thigh. You took a deep breath, you might be toxic but how damn good does this familiarity feel? It might just cancel the bad parts out.

Lando’s fingers drew circles on your thigh and he smirked when he noticed you opening your legs a little bit wider, an invitation to move his fingers up further.

His hand scooted up, pushing the material of your tight miniskirt away and gently tracing along your inner thighs.

"Baby careful or you’ll ruin the seat", he whispered sarcastically. He didn’t give a damn if you actually did and you knew that because this wouldn’t be the first time it happened.

"Lando-", you quietly whimpered when you felt his fingers come dangerously close to your core, still feeling the sensitivity of the multiple orgasms he had given you merely twenty minutes ago, but backed off just before touching you. "Shhh, baby", he spoke, keeping his eyes on the road while entering the tip of his finger.

Your eyes fluttered shut and you sunk down the seat a little. Without having to see, you knew Lando was smiling.

He pushed his finger further inside and immediately followed up with a second one. You quietly moaned at the pleasure.

"Already so fucking wet for me, baby", he spoke. "My good girl", he purred moving his finger faster inside you.

You moaned at his words and the way his fingers stretched you, making you see stars. "L-lando-", you whispered but got interrupted by another moan when he scissored his fingers. Your eyes shot open and you grabbed his arm tighter, your fingers most likely leaving marks on his skin.

You started moving your hips up to meet his fingers, chasing your own release in the passenger seat of Lando’s sports car.

But Lando suddenly slowed down and almost pulled his fingers out of you completely leaving you empty and whining. "L-lando - plea - ahh- please, baby", you couldn’t form proper sentences while his fingers traced your clit.

"Shh, no baby, you’re not coming until we’re home", he gently whispered, making you furrow your brows. He slid both fingers back inside you and picked his pace up again, making you gasp before an idea came to your head.

You let go of his arm and reached over the middle console and started palming the slight bulge in his trousers.

Now it was his turn to let out a surprised gasp. "You are playing a dangerous game, baby", he muttered, gripping the steering wheel tighter. You simply giggled and squeezed his clothed cock through his pants.

Lando twisted his fingers inside you, making you stop your movements and close your eyes. You hectically tried opening up his belt and trousers before sliding your hand inside his boxers, stroking over his tip that was already leaking pre cum.

"Baby-, I’m driving remember", he rasped, his finger still moving inside you but your main focus now laid on his cock in your hands. "It’s not like this is the first time", you breathed and started pumping his cock.

You could see how much he was fighting to close his eyes, which made a sadistic smirk form on your lips.

Because you were too focused on him, you didn’t see that you were already in front of Lando’s apartment.

He slid his fingers out of you and pushed your hands off him as well. "Let’s go!", he sternly said, getting out of the car and walking towards the entrance of his apartment building already, his trousers still opened.

You smirked and left the car as well, hurrying behind him. As soon as you got to the elevator, Lando reached for your hips and smashed his lips on yours again.

His hands moved to your ass and squeezed it playfully.

When you heard the familiar bling of his apartment elevator, he didn’t even look. Lando just moved you backwards out of the elevator, still kissing you. You fumbled his key out of the back pocket of his jeans and opened the door as soon as you got there.

Lando grinned and pushed you against the door to open it up completely before attacking your lips once again, kicking the door shut with his foot.

"Where you wanna go?", he muttered between kisses and moans. "Here is fine", you said breathlessly and pointed to the couch. Lando smirked, remembering what had happened on this couch, remembering catching you making out with a random dude after one of your fights.

"Was it over when he unbottoned your blouse?", Lando smirked, opening your blouse button for button, before pushing it off your body.

You smirked when you realized where he was getting at. But two could play that game, you had also caught him with a random girl on his exact couch.

"Was it over when she laid down on your couch?", you replied with the same smirk, only standing in your lace underwear and walking backwards to sit down on his couch.

Lando moved closer in only his trousers. He placed his strong arms on either side of your head and leaned down so his lips were almost touching yours.

"Was it ever really over?"

taglist

@im-an-overthinker @buendiabebeta @hungryhungariann @ohthemisssery @kenopsiababe @sawendel @enjoymyloves @ricsaigaslec @ravenqueen27 @temqr1 @leclerc16s @theamazingsimplethings-blog @coldmuffinbanditshoe @hotchnisscm97 @andtheworldiscrashingdownonme @moneymasnn @justme2042 @amulhermaisfelizdomundo @pleasantducktimetravel @anthonykatebridgerton @lisannehus @hannahholland1811 @lighttsoutlewis @mydutchproblem @dan3avocado @alwaysclassyeagle @cocomiracle @allthisfortommy @soleilgrec @cheeryara-blog @person2345-blog @aquamariene-me @judespoision @sbgal @teti-menchon0604 @darleneslane @flower-nymph

[wh0reforcoriolanussnow]

A memory || Young President!Coriolanus Snow x reader

GIF by @sommerspage divider by @firefly-graphics

Summary: You have never questioned Coriolanus about what happened during his exile as peacemaker. But when the truth is revealed, Snow’s past quickly comes to haunt him.

Warning: blood, mention of infidelity, miscarriage

Wc: 1,818

Coriolanus Snow Masterlist

“I really don’t think this is a good idea y/n.” Snow paces around the room as you sip your tea. “I’ll be fine Coryo, It’s a duty as First Lady that I need to do. It brings hope and somewhat unity to the districts.” Snow stops to look at you, his piercing blue eyes never failing to make you squirm under his gaze.

“If any of them touch you I swear-“ He storms your direction before you cut him off, “No one is going to touch me Snow. The baby and I will be perfectly fine.” You reach for his hand and place it on the barely there swell of your stomach. He lets out a sigh, dropping to his knees as he leans his head gently on your stomach.

“I want you back in one piece, untouched.” He softly says as you put your hands on either side of his face. “I promise.” Was all you said before kissing his forehead, the tip of his nose, and finally his soft tender lips that moulded perfectly against yours.

A knock at the door made you look behind your back, “The train is ready,” A voice called out. Snow stands up, towering over you as you embrace him in a tight hug. “Be safe. I love you.” He says against your hair as you rub his back. “I love you too,” You say, muffled slightly against his chest.

The trip to all the districts was going to take some time, around 3 months or so. 3 months away from the Capitol, 3 months away from your Coriolanus. But as First Lady, it was your duty to bring a sense of unity and hope to everyone, including the districts.

Coriolanus was against this trip ever since your brought it up. After his exile, he never spoke about what happened during his years as a peacekeeper, all you knew was that he sacrificed so much to return and become President. You never probed him into telling you exactly what happened, you just knew it was something he rather kept a distant memory.

~

Visiting each district went smoothly. Majority of the people respected you. And you only treated them with equalness and kindness. That was just who you were. Coriolanus ensured that the most strongest guards accompanied you. You felt safe most of the time.

Except for an attack during your visit to district 8. You weren’t harmed but shaken up to say the least. When news of this came back to the Capitol, Coriolanus urged you to finish your trip that instance and return but your refused, saying it would only make people perceive you as weak, and just like the others at Capitol.

Nearly 3 months had passed and you finally made it to the last district, district 12. You were already 3 months pregnant. District 12 was the poorest and smallest district, but you personally enjoyed it the most. Lots of singing and dancing happened around which you enjoyed after an exhausting 3 months of travelling.

You were sat at the back of a bar where everyone was dancing and singing along to the female singer on stage. Guards were by your side, ready for anything that may come your way. All of a sudden, a woman came up to you, she had a cloak over her head, slightly covering her face.

The guards came closer to you but you gestured them to back off. “Lady Y/n, It is an honour to see you here in our district,” Her voice spoke. You smile, “It’s my pleasure. I find district 12 my favourite, but don’t go telling the other districts that” You chuckle as the woman does the same.

“What’s your name?” You ask, trying to search her features that were covered. “Lucy. Lucy Gray Baird.” That name. It was so familiar to you. “Have I met you? Lucy Gray?” You try and dig through your memories seeing if you could match the name to a face.

She chuckles. “I don’t think so. Though I am familiar with your Husband, the President.” She pulls back her hood and it all clicked. Lucy Gray. Coriolanus’ tribute during the 10th hunger games. “I’m familiar with you now Lucy. The tribute my husband mentored, the tribute he cheated for.” You nod your head at her as she smiles.

You knew Coriolanus was a peacekeeper in this very district. What you didn’t understand was why he was relocated from district 8 to district 12. A surge of curiosity courses through your veins. Curiosity to what happened here while Snow was peacekeeper, what sacrifices he had to make in order to become President.

“Would you like to sit down? I have a few questions I hope you are able to answer for me, please.” Your voiced out in slight desperation. Lucy studies you for a moment before nodding her head. You look towards the guards who nodded their head and give the two of you space, but still on watch out.

“My husband was to be a peacekeeper in district 8 yet he was relocated here. Do you know any reason as to why that happened? I need you to be completely honest with me Lucy.” You felt a sense of guilt. You promised Snow you wouldn’t dig into what happened during his exile, but you couldn’t help it.

“I will be completely honest with you, Y/n.” You take her hands in yours as she glances down at your hands. “Coriolanus relocated here because of me,” She slowly said as you search her eyes to see if she was lying. She wasn’t.

You swallow as you urged her to continue. She then revealed everything to you. From bobbin being murdered by him in the arena, to him killing the mayor’s daughter Mayfair, and the death of Sejanus which she suspected was Snow’s doing. Lucy also revealed to you her relationship that she had with Coriolanus.

It started even when you and Coriolanus were together, but you just had no idea. You tried to stay as far away as you could from the hunger games. You were utterly shocked. It made so much sense to you. Snow’s words hinted what he did and Lucy’s words backed them up perfectly.

“And what happened between you and him?” You fidget with your fingers. “I was scared. So scared of him Y/n. I thought he was going to kill me when he found guns in the cabin. And that was exactly what he tried doing but I escaped.” Lucy let out a shaky breath as you listen intently. “Thank you. Thank you for telling me this.” You hold her hands before placing money in them as her eyes widen.

“Take care Lucy Gray.” Was all you said before you got up, leaving the bar. “This trip comes to an end right now.” Your voice was shaky as you step into the train back to the Capitol. Your mind was swirling with thoughts. What Lucy Gray told you made you question so many things about Snow.

You knew he would never hurt you. But there was still the lingering thought that he might. You knew Snow came back a changed man, but you never knew how much he had changed and what sacrifices he had to make. The trip back felt like an eternity. You could hardly sleep, drink or eat. Thoughts plagued your mind.

The train came to a halt, but you were deep in thought to even realise. A hand touched your arm, “Are you okay?” Coriolanus asks in a worried tone as you stare at him in confusion. “Y/n? Y/n!” Was all you heard before you saw blackness.

~

You slowly open your eyes as you adjust to the bright light. You look around your surroundings and felt a heavy weight on your hand. “Coryo?” You weakly say as he wakes up in surprise. “Y/n. Thank God you’re okay,” He hugs you tightly.

“What happened?” You touch your head that was pounding, “You passed out on the train. The doctors said you barely ate anything or slept. What happened?” He asks as he cups your face in his big hands. Memories of what happened came running back to you.

Lucy Gray’s words came back to you. You suddenly push Coriolanus off of you. He looks at you in shock. “Did I do something?” “Get out.” You softly say, refusing to look at him. “What? Y/n-“ “I said get out Coriolanus!” You say this time louder and more stern. He swallows hard, before leaving you alone just as you asked.

You uncontrollably start to sob. Your heart was aching so much. You understood he had to do whatever it took but killing those innocent people…. You couldn’t wrap your head around it. As you sobbed you felt something wet in between your legs. You pause. No. No.

You quickly throw the blanket off of you as you scream at the sight of blood. “Help! Someone please help me!” You scream as tears continue to fall down your face. The door burst open to reveal Snow there, a horrified look on his face at the sight of blood. “Why me?” Was all you said in between your sobs as Snow runs out.

~

“I’m so sorry,” The doctor says to Coriolanus as you lay on your side, your back facing him as hot tears streamed down your face. You had just lost the baby. Exhaustion, lack of sleep and food led to it. “Y/n…” Snow’s voice was soft, you flinch at his touch on your shoulder as he backs off.

“She told me everything.” You manage to say, you turn over but refuse to look him in the eyes. Confusion etched his features at what you possible could mean. “Lucy Gray. She told me everything” Coriolanus’ features harden at the sound of her name. “She’s lying. You honestly trust a district’s word?”

“Everything she said made pretty darn sense Coriolanus. The sacrifices you made? You mean killing your best friend and innocent people! And you and Lucy. Look me in the eyes and tell me that never happened.” He looked taken back. You sobbed as you cover your mouth in disbelief. “I can’t believe this oh my god!”

“Do you even love me?” You asked. Coriolanus rushed to your side, taking your hands in his. “Of course I do. Of course I love you Y/n. More than anything. I did whatever it took to come back to you. You have to understand that.” A few tear drops fall from his eyes as he pleads.

“I just need time and-and space. Please.” You screw your eyes shut as you look away. Coriolanus sniffles before standing up, straightening his jacket as he nods. “Of course, I understand.” As soon the door shut closed, another round of tears gush from your eyes.

[dirtyyoungthing]

they say that older men do it better, and by god, they fucking do.

as some of you know, i’ve only ever been with one person. never really been one for hookups or anything like that, but i figure i’m young, in the prime of my life… why not fool around? i, after consulting my roommate, downloaded an app for hookups and set my age range up a bit. 30+.

this app allows you to list kinks and sexual preferences, but i really wanted to make sure i left the proper hints about myself around my profile. cute gifs. a question about preferred sexual positions, to which i replied, “mating press, or any position that makes me feel small and helpless.” i made sure to use my cutest photos, showing off my glossy lips and sweet doe eyes, my hair pulled into cute handles pigtails. before long i was scrolling and swiping through the app, lounging in bed as i daydreamed about getting my sweet little cunt pounded by an older man.

i didn’t have the app for more than an hour or two before i got the notification that i had gotten a match. i couldn’t help but kick my feet a bit when i checked to see who it was… he was older, handsome, tall, with really gorgeous long hair. his profile was one of the first ones i had seen; it was funny and made me laugh, and he couldn’t help but lightly boast about his big dick (energy). how could i not like him?

he sent me a message commenting on the position i had mentioned on my profile, saying that it seemed to fit well with breeding kinks. he also asked me if i was a squishmallow fan, and i couldn’t help but giggle.

[🫣 is it that obvious? i used to collect, but not so much anymore.]

[It is, but in a good way! You just had that cute plush kinda look!]

it was then i knew that this man would make me whine and whimper into his mattress. i couldn’t help but curl my toes a bit at the thought. we flirt a bit more, he shows me photos of some of the plushies he owns. i compliment them and say that, “everyone needs something soft and squeezable to get them through their days.”

[You look soft and squeezable js 🥴]

i need to fuck this man.

[i definitely definitely am 🤭 maybe you could find out just how soft and squeezable sometime?]

[I would LOVE that. I could totally also get you a plushie too.]

[oh gosh, i couldn’t accept anything from you 😭 you’re so so sweet though!!]

[Good girls deserve to be rewarded 😌]

….oh GOD!!!!!

he asks me if i’ve eaten, if i’m free tonight. we make plans for him to pick me up and take me to a restaurant right by his place. i give him my number and hop in the shower. if i wasn’t under such a time crunch i would have taken the time to touch my aching, excited little cunt as i cleaned my body, but i had to focus.

picking what to wear on a date is difficult. picking what to wear on a date when you know you’re going to get possibly the best dick you’ve gotten in your life is torture. does this look good? how does this make my chest look? ugh, i hate my arms in this top! my roommate, angel that she is, saved my night and my sanity by lending me the cutest outfit. a tight tile printed dress with spaghetti straps, which i wore a white t-shirt under. she also lent me a pair of platform mary janes for the evening. it had been a minute since i had worn anything so tall, and i couldn’t help but teeter a bit. it made me feel all the cuter though. a cute little bimbo like me, stumbling around in shoes i can hardly walk in so an older man can fuck my sweet little pussy… i shook the thought away as i did my makeup. focus!!!

i gave him my address, and he arrived on time in a really really nice car. he got out to greet me and gave me a sweet hug, and i couldn’t help but notice how he towered over me. my thighs clenched together as i felt myself get wet (or maybe wetter…). we got into the car and on the road. he’s so funny, and so so charming. he puts his hand on my thigh and i swear i nearly passed out. i pushed away thoughts of palming him through his jeans, of taking his cock out and sucking it right there in the car… focus up, girl!!

he was so wonderful. at one point, i’m talking about something that was probably unimportant (as most things i say tend to be), and he grabs my hand and starts pressing gentle, tender kisses to my fingers. i clenched my thighs a bit tighter as i lost my train of thought and trailed off.

we arrive at the restaurant, which is thankfully very close to his place. he parks and comes around to open my door, and we walk hand in hand into the restaurant. his hand is so much bigger than mine… we get seated and order a crème brûlée to share, as we had talked about it on the ride there (it was fantastic btw, incase you’re wondering. you probably aren’t, but it’s my blog damn u and i will talk about whatever i want!!). the place is a bit loud, so we had to lean forward in order to hear each other when we talk. i loved being closer to him like that, and couldn’t help but crave more of it.

we finish the dessert and head to his place. he introduced me to his cats before we settled onto his couch to talk a bit more. at one point he pulls me close and we finally start kissing. i was worried about my kissing skills, but it was so easy to follow his lead, to whimper into his mouth as he bit my lower lip. my hands moved to finally, finally rub him through his pants. oh. oh my god. denim, as you are probably aware, is a constricting material, but even as his cock strained against the fabric i could tell he was big.

we moved to his bedroom after a bit more kissing and rubbing. he moved around me, kissing on my neck, using his mouth’s hot air in ways i never realized were possible. i felt myself become cute little putty in his hands. i wanted to be the best little girl for this man i possibly could be. he did me the favor of removing his impossible belt, and i got onto my knees on the floor as i undid the button and zipper to his pants. i pulled his jeans down and rubbed the tent in his boxers for a moment before finally sliding them down. his cock sprang forth, and i swear i felt my jaw drop. oh dear sweet whatever you are in the sky, thank you. thank you so fucking much. he was huge. i had never seen anything that big in person before, and if i’m being honest, i was a little intimidated. i felt confident in my blowjob skills, but my last partner was considerably smaller. c’mon. be a big girl. you can do it.

i take his cock in my mouth, swirling my tongue around it as i do my best to take him deep down my throat. the noises he made, oh god… i swear i still hear them in my head randomly when i’m doing things around the house. i gagged a bit and pulled back, spitting out a bit of drool on his cock and using it as lube to jerk him off with while i caught my breath for a moment. “good girl,” he purred. i went right back to work, desperate and aching to hear more of his praise. i loved running my tongue over a certain spot on the underside of his cock; watching his eyes screw shut every time just got me wetter and wetter.

i could have sucked his cock for hours if he let me, but he pulled me off and held me in his arms so he could kiss me more as he helped me slide my clothes off. i’ll never forget his quiet, “oh, god,” as he finally saw my tits. he got my bra off and sucked on my sensitive nipples, flicking his tongue over the nub as i whined.

he had me lay on the bed and moved between my thighs. he pressed soft, tender kisses to my thighs that made my hips shift and buck in a desperate plea for him to please touch my pussy oh god please please please. finally, finally, he licks my cunt with a deft, practiced motion that could only come from experience an older man has. he fully devours me. the things this man could do with his mouth were downright sinful… i’ve never cum from oral before, but that night, after he slipped his fingers inside me, i couldn’t help but gush.

he moved to grab a condom, slipping it on before positioning himself on top of me. i felt my body tremble slightly at the prospect of taking something so large in my tight little cunt, but he was so sweet, so hot, that i knew i was wet enough. he ran the tip of his cock over my aching slit as i whimpered. slowly, ever so slowly, he slid into me. i find myself quivering just writing about it. i’m sure i was trembling under him, but after he bottomed out inside me my memory gets all fuzzy and it’s difficult to remember a whole lot.

i remember feeling so full, so fucking full as i moaned and cried out for him. i remember cumming over and over and over again on his huge cock. i remember sucking on his fingers as he pounded into me in an effort to keep me quiet (which like, half worked). i remember him caging his arms around me, growling in my ear as i begged him to cum, to breed me, to breed his little girl. we both came at the exact same time, moaning as our bodies melted together.

we catch our breath, clean up. he helps me find my discarded clothes in the pile that accumulated on his floor. i text my roommate and try to hide my smile.

[IM ALIVE]

[AND CAME]

[SO MUCH]

[SO MUCH TO TELL U]

[AHHHH YES BITCH]

he drives me home as we chat more, both still a bit breathless and awash with endorphins. once we arrive at my place, he opens my door once more and we kiss one final time before we say goodnight. i wish him a safe trip home as i limp to the door and let myself in. you know that thing that happens in movies, where the girl has a really good date, and she leans against the door after he leaves? i always thought that was silly, but… i just couldn’t help it.

the next day i’m out picking up dinner with a friend. we text a bit.

[Not at ALL complaining just still surprised at how dirty you are haha]

[you truly don’t know the half of it 🫣🤭💖]

[Tell me!]

[it might be better if i just, like, showed youuu?]

and then i sent him a link to this blog. and i felt like my heart was gonna sink into my stomach. i’m into some harder things, i didn’t wanna scare him off… my phone buzzed.

[I love this]

[thank GOD!! i was terrified you’d like, run for the hills or something 😭💕]

[I’m only disappointed about one thing…]

[hm?]

[You need to write about how good you got fucked last night]

when i tell you that my body essentially did a full factory reset…

[😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫]

[yes daddy]

[Good girl]

[Tell me when you post it]

he was hot. he was funny. he was dominant. he could make me cum so much my brain leaked out of my ears. and now he was giving me assignments. like a daddy should.

so now here i am, finishing up probably the longest piece of writing i’ve done in a long time. and there you are, reading it. hi. hope you had a good time.

i hope to see you again soon. 💖

[itsjusthockey]

Knight in Shining Armani - Juraj Slafkovsky

he's so boyfriend. Enjoy

send in requests. pls and thx

warnings: slightly suggestive?????

w.c: 1,426 (credit to gif maker) (don't steal my work)

You don’t smoke, not at all. You honestly don’t think you’ve ever even tried nicotine sober. However, in this very moment, you crave a cigarette, or something, anything, to distract you from the current hell you’re in.

You’ve always enjoyed charity galas with the team. They’re something to look forward to. They’re classy; they support a good cause, have great food, better drinks, and usually decent company. However, sometimes, at these events, you get unlucky, and tonight was one of those particular nights.

You’re seated at a lovely table with a few wives and girlfriends and directly next to a pretty blonde woman you’ve never met. She’s clad in a red dress, her lips painted to match, and she’s eyeing the room like a predator watching her prey.

You have to check yourself as you watch her a bit. You’re not one to throw judgment at someone you don’t know, but something about the way she’s watching the room sets your stomach a bit on edge.

The edge sets a bit deeper when you notice her stare lands on a familiar back, one you know all too well.

“Do you know who he is?” She suddenly asks you. “He’s insanely sexy.”

She points toward the center of the room, and you follow her stare back to your boyfriend. He’s standing tall in the center of the room, clad in an all-black ensemble that fits perfectly in all the correct places. He looks otherworldly as he smiles and throws his head back in laughter at something Arber says. He is absolutely gorgeous, and the fed woman beside you is right; he does look insanely sexy. However, you’re not particularly fond of anyone else in the world thinking that, but you

You must’ve stayed quiet for a bit too long because she raises an eyebrow and leans a bit closer to you, clearly waiting for an answer.

“That’s Juraj.” You finally say.

She hums and repeats his name softly to you, then leans in closer as if she’s going to tell you a secret.

“I came with someone else.” Her eyes dart back to your boyfriend. “But I wouldn’t mind finding myself under him at the end of the night.”

As she finishes her statement, she lets out a laugh, and you feel yourself grip your champagne glass tight. You shouldn’t be mad; you’re incredibly secure in your relationship, but that ugly feeling continues to grow.

“You don’t agree?” She asks.

You realize you’ve been silent, not offering her anything. You’re unsure how to approach this situation, but you also know you should shut it down.

“I do,” you smile toward her. “But he’s taken.”

A brief, annoyed look flashes over the women’s eyes. “By who?”

You throw on your sweetest smile and bat your lashes toward her.

“By me.”

The second that slips out of your mouth, her eyes widen in surprise, and then they shrink a bit, looking you up and down.

(Y/N).” You rip your eyes away from her hard stare and draw your attention toward a wife. “Your boy looks incredible tonight. Arbs said you picked out the suit? Gucci, was it?”

“Armani.” You state, glancing back toward your boyfriend, hoping he hears your telepathic plea to come save you.

A few of the other wives and girlfriends hum, signaling their approval of your masterful suit-picking skills, and you feel a rush of pride swell through you.

“Yes. He certainly looks dashing.” The blonde speaks up again, her eyes dragging up and down your boyfriend’s figure from behind.

You don’t think of yourself as a jealous person, but you’re not stupid. You don’t miss how she looks at the man you’re in love with. You also don’t miss the subtle lip bite in his direction and the slight glare she gives you. You resist the edge to roll your eyes. Instead, you take another sip of your drink and try to focus on any other conversation.

You’ve finally integrated yourself elsewhere when a hand gently taps your shoulder, causing you to jump slightly. You turn quickly to see Juraj’s gorgeous smile and bright eyes beaming down at you.

“Hello, beautiful.” He leans down to your ear, whispering. “Can I steal you away?”

You resist the urge to throw yourself into his arms and demand he take you home. Instead, you smile and nod, excusing yourself from the table with a smile. You begin to be swept away, Juraj's hand gently on your waist, when you throw one last look toward your table. The woman you’ve come to dislike slightly is staring hard, and you give her a slight smirk. You simply can’t help yourself.

Juraj leads you away from the crowd to a small, cozy corner. He quickly traps you between his body and the wall, gently brushing a strand of your hair out of your face.

“Are you having fun?” His eyes are genuinely curious as he asks.

“Yes.” You slightly lie. “But I’d be much happier if we were home in bed.”

He smiles a wide smile and gently brings his head down to meet your lips in a sweet kiss. It’s quick, and when you meet his eyes again, you see they’re filled with nothing but love and adoration.

“Are you tired?” He searches your face. “If you’d like to go to bed, we can leave. I’ve done all the required mingling.

You move your hands up to his lapels, gently smoothing them up and down and then gently patting his firm chest.

“When I said being at home in bed,” you shift your gaze up to his eyes with your best doe-eyed stare. “I didn’t mean actually sleeping.”

You see a million emotions shift through his eyes and face, and within a second, he places his lips on yours again, this time and a little more urgently. Your lips move in sync for a few seconds before he pulls away, grabbing your chin to meet his eyes again.

“Let’s say our goodbyes.” You notice his eyes are a few shades darker. “I’m taking you home.”

He leads you away from your secluded corner, dragging you to say your goodbyes. The farewells are short and sweet, everyone oblivious to how fast Juraj pulls you around. In mere minutes, you’re in the safety of your car, and you’re sitting in the passenger seat, admiring the man beside you. It’s honestly annoying how perfect he is. Even his side profile is envious, and with the passing city lights illuminating him wonderfully, it’s taking everything in you not to jump him.

He must notice this because he drives a little faster and places his hand on your thigh. You are nearly breathless as he gently smooths your skin under his touch, and even though your thoughts are far from pure, you can’t help but let your heart swell with love.

You finally arrive at his apartment, and you run for the elevator, hoping the ride is short. It is, and when you finally make it to his apartment, you almost want to die.

Juraj, however, is nothing but a patient man. As soon as you enter, he drops to his knees and gently taps your heel. You smile the sweet smile and lift your foot, watching in awe as he undoes the tiny buckle, pulls off the shoe, places a small kiss on your leg, and then moves on to the next one.

When he finally finishes your shoes, he gets up, moving you back to your earlier position, trapped between him and the wall. His eyes are blown a bit, and the smell of his cologne makes you more buzzed than any of the change you’ve had tonight.

You finally make your move, pulling off his suit jacket and throwing it far away from you. He smiles and picks you up effortlessly, his hand gently resting on your ass. He gives it a small squeeze as he leads you to the bedroom, tossing you on the bed as you shriek out with laughter.

Juraj is a patient man, but even he has his limits. When he climbs on top of you, watching as you undo his shirt buttons, he’s quick to lean down and begin pressing gentle kisses to your neck. He continues his assault when you finally finish the buttons, tugging his shirt. He pulls it off, and you almost gasp. He truly is sculpted by the gods, and you can’t help but stare.

“Are you too tired, my love?” He asks, knowing the answer.

You shake your head rapidly, pulling him down on top of you.

“Not in the slightest.”

[general-fanfiction]

Hopes And Fears. (Wally Clark x Reader)

Summary: Y/N’s death is traumatic. So traumatic in fact, she can’t even look at Wally without reliving what happened to her.

Word Count: 3,073

Gif Not Mine. Requests are open!

Warnings: Violence, Swear Words, Hints Of Rape?

I’m not too sure how I feel about this to be honest but it’s my first fic since coming back and I would love to write for Wally more so please send requests! I might continue with this if people like it, I’m not sure yet though.

“Homecoming game tonight. Are you nervous?”

Closing my locker, I look to my left to see Abby, my best friend since elementary school. We’re inseparable. People find it odd that we look like we are complete opposites and yet we are the platonic loves of each other's lives. She’s a very loud and extroverted theater kid, I’m quiet, shy and introverted. Though in a weird turn of events, I became head cheerleader. Kind of ironic right?

“I’m not too worried. We’ve been rehearsing everyday, sometimes twice a day. I think we might actually have our best routine yet, I just hope we can pull it off.”

“You’ll be great, you always are. Besides I heard Spencer is going to ask you to be his date for homecoming.”

Abby’s words catch me off guard. Spencer is the Split River High quarterback. While typically the head cheerleader and quarterback are perfect for each other, I’m way below his level that the thought of us being together is ridiculous. I couldn’t even imagine it, that’s how ludicrous the idea of us is. Not that I would complain, Spencer is model level attractive, an academic genius and of course, insanely popular. Any girl would die to be his homecoming date. Me included.

“Don’t be stupid.” The blush on my cheeks is a vibrant red as I speak, leaning against my locker with my books clenched against my chest.

“I’m being serious. Some of the other football guys were talking about it in study hall. Apparently he’s got some sort of big surprise planned.”

Her grin is wide, clearly happy for me, though I can’t match it. I still don’t believe it, that sort of thing does not happen to girls like me. Guys aren’t interested in girls like me. That’s just the way high school works, maybe I’ll blossom when I head off to college at the end of this year but for now, guys keep their distance. My mom always told me that high school guys like girls that are easy and that because I know my worth, guys don’t even attempt it. I’ve always hated that idea though. If nothing else but for the slightly sexist and anti-feminist ideals that it pushes.

“Not to alarm you Y/N but he’s walking down the hallway.” Abby tells me, grabbing my forearm tightly, obviously excited. “I think he’s headed this way so that’s my cue. Have fun, text me all the details!”

With that she scurries away, flashing me a cheesy smile over her shoulder as she speeds down the hallway. Almost bumping into several other students as she does so. I laugh slightly, always entertained by her antics before hearing the metal of the locker next to me clang at the sound of somebody leaning against it.

“Mind if I steal you for a second Y/N?”

Spencer’s voice is charming and smooth, a relaxed smirk on his face as he stares down at me. His eyes are intoxicating and I feel as though I’m drowning in them. There’s no way Abby could be right. God, if she is I’ll never hear the end of it. Maybe I could live with that though, especially if it does result in Spencer potentially being my boyfriend.

“Sure, yeah, okay.”

Spencer’s smirk grows wider, and as he leans in to take my hand in his, I catch a whiff of his cologne. A dark musk that matches the darkness of his eyes and hair perfectly, it takes everything in me not to collapse right then and there. My senses are completely heightened and I can feel the roughness of his hand against my palm. The butterflies in my stomach make me feel as though I’m about to explode from my nerves and before I know it we’ve made our way to the old block of showers that were closed in 2004, following an incident involving an inappropriate relationship between a student and gym coach. New showers were remodeled and these were left to decay.

Spencer takes my books out of my hands, placing them on the bench that sits in the center of the room before turning to face me. His hand gently cups my cheek and although his smile is soft and loving. His eyes hold a mischievous glint. Without saying anything he leans down to kiss me, unprepared and a little shocked I step backwards.

“I didn’t know you wanted to kiss me. I didn’t even know you liked me.” I tell him, shuffling backwards again as he continues to approach me.

“Everybody likes you. I’ve just been wanting to save this for a special occasion, and what better time than homecoming?”

With my back pressed against the wall, a soft smile forms on my face as he cages me in. Though it doesn’t feel threatening, it feels new and exciting and my insides are on fire waiting to see what happens. I feel as though I finally understand what the cringey teen movies are talking about when they discuss sex and love and passion.

“I really like you Spencer.” I whisper, voice barely audible, gazing up at him through my lashes.

He laughs, pushing his hair out of his face before leaning down once again. This time his lips do touch mine and it’s nothing like I imagined. He’s rough, hands moving down to grab my breasts , almost painfully. The softness from before clearly disappeared. As much as it is a dream come true to be making out with the guy of my dreams, I’m still disappointed that this is how my first kiss turned out. His tongue forces its way into my mouth and its uncomfortable, I know this isn’t how it is supposed to go. As I try to pull away, to allow myself some air, his hand grips my throat, holding me in place. Continuing his almost aggressive movements.

“Yo Spence, did you get the bitch?”

Finally, he pulls away. I manage to take in some air despite his hand still wrapped around my neck. He’s looking over his shoulder, nodding his head. The rest of the football team stands in the doorway, menacing looks on their faces as they see me in such a vulnerable position. I hear the click of the door lock, and the butterflies in my stomach don’t feel so good anymore. The energy in the room shifts to one of darkness and evil, no trace of kindness and love.

Spencer looks at me, and for the first time in my life, I fear for my safety. This is not the same guy that I was obsessed with. There is no sign of human emotion on his face, no sympathy or pity. Gripping his hand to try and pry it away from my throat, I feel the tears begin to prick in the corners of my eyes and upon seeing my reaction, he smiles. My pain is his pleasure. Despite my attempts at removing his hand, his grip only gets tighter and I’m pushed further against the wall.

“Let’s have some fun boys.”

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A dull ache radiates through my body, pushing through the pain, I force myself to stand up. Staring at the room around me, I wonder if I was dreaming. However, with no sign of my books on the bench, I take that as confirmation that what I experienced did truly happen. Blood splatters the walls and floor but with no sign of injury on my body, I refuse to believe it’s mine. Sure, what happened was bad, but not that bad.

Not wanting to stay in this room any longer, I quickly make my way to the exit, pushing open the door with more force than necessary causing it to slam against the outside wall. Making the shy looking boy who happens to be standing outside jump. I smile apologetically, about to make my way past him when I notice what he’s wearing. Clad in double denim with round glasses, he looks straight out of Friends.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to come in because I thought you might feel kind of exposed but I wanted to introduce myself.” He says quietly, holding out his hand for me to shake. “I’m Charlie.”

Shifting my gaze between his hand and his face, my mind can’t really comprehend what is happening. Why am I suddenly meeting someone new? By the old shower block of all places, especially after what has just happened to me. The confusion on my face must be obvious as he smiles before revoking his hand.

“You haven’t worked it out yet have you?” He asks, almost as though he doesn’t want to push me.

“You’re dead, cherry pop.”

Looking to my right, I spot a girl sat against the wall, blue lollipop between her lips that has stained them ever so slightly. Wearing a black turtleneck with a matching cap and pinstripe pants, she’s the kind of girl that would intimidate me had I seen her walking down the street. Who am I kidding? She still intimidates me.

“Rhonda, Mr Martin told us to be gentle with her!”

“I’m sorry, I actually have somewhere to be but you two look great.” I tell them, beginning to walk away and head towards the main school building.

“Did you not hear me? You’re dead, you don’t have anywhere to be.” The girl, I’m assuming Rhonda, shouts after me, causing me to stop in my tracks.

“Look I don’t know what sort of joke this is, but it’s not funny. Seriously, go find some other kid to pick on.”

As I walk into the school building, I begin my mission of searching for Abby, hoping I can find her in the auditorium or even the costume department. My search doesn’t take too long, as my assumptions proved correct. She is sitting on the stage, the theater club’s newest script in one hand and her phone in the other. Our text thread open on her screen, as I sit myself beside her, she doesn’t even acknowledge me, eyes flicking between her phone and the script.

“Abby, I need to tell you something but you have to swear you will not tell anyone.”

She completely ignores me, flipping the page of her script. Its as if I’m invisible to her, a joke that isn’t funny. Waving my hand in front of her face in an attempt to get her attention also proves futile as she doesn’t even look up. Glancing at her phone I notice she’s messaged me multiple times asking me of my whereabouts, telling me she’s seen Spencer but she didn’t see me with him, asking me if I am his homecoming date.

“Abby, seriously? This is important, your show can wait.”

“She can’t hear you.” Charlie says, him and Rhonda standing in front of me, arms resting on the edge of the stage. “Or see you, we’re invisible to them. Nothing you do is going to change that.”

“I don’t get it, why isn’t she answering me?” I ask, panic starting to set it as I grow more and more confused at my situation.

“Oh my god, do I really have to tell you again? Are you that fucking stupid? You’re dead. D-E-A-D. Deceased. Not living.” Rhonda speaks slowly, using a voice you would use for a child.

“I can’t be dead. There’s no way, it’s just not possible.”

“Yeah it takes some getting used to, but we’re all friends and you’ll come to terms with it soon enough. Mr Martin’s support group helps too.” Charlie tells me, smiling encouragingly as I watch Abby walk away with some of the other theater kids.

“Support group?” I ask, hopping off the stage to stand with the only two people that can see me.

“Come on, we’ll take you.” Rhonda states, almost as if it's more of a chore and not like she offered to take me.

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sitting in a circle with the rest of the group, I can’t help my heart racing as I spot the football player sitting amongst everyone. He reminds me of Spencer and that’s what makes me nervous, or maybe it’s just the fact that he plays football. Either way I can’t help but feel on edge, hence why I placed myself in the furthest seat from him.

As I take in the rest of the room, I notice the basketball team playing further down the court. Not aware of the existence of the group of ghosts sat in a circle like they’re in an AA meeting. It feels so surreal, almost like an intricate nightmare that I will wake up from at any moment. Yet everything I’ve seen so far has been pretty real.

“We have a new student, would you like to introduce yourself?” The only teacher, who I am guessing is Mr Martin asks, as I feel all eyes divert their attention towards me.

The football player has a gentle aura around him, smiling at me as he waits for an answer to Mr Martin’s question. I look away quickly, unable to face the feelings of sickness in my stomach that I get when I look at him.

“I’m Y/N.”

The group mumbles a chorus of welcomes as I stare at the floor, still struggling to come to terms with the fact that I am actually dead.

“It’s hard at first, but I’m grateful that you decided to give the group a shot. It helps us all to move forward instead of focusing on our deaths and the past.” Mr Martin tells me, offering a look of sympathy. “Charlie, Rhonda, thank you for being Y/N’s guide, I’m sure it was very helpful.”

“So how did you die? In the old showers clearly, but that’s gotta be an interesting story right?” Rhonda asks, her eyes piercing into me as she places the lollipop back between her lips.

“Rhonda, you can’t just ask people that. Let her get used to us at least.”

His voice startles me, it’s as gentle as his aura. Soft and ever so charming. The protection in his tone is obvious as though he doesn’t wanna frighten me away and I glance at him for a moment. His football shirt sits perfectly against his toned chest and a gold chain hangs delicately from his neck. He’s beautiful. Truly beautiful.

“I’m Wally by the way, Wally Clark.” His voice is directed at me, staring at me intently.

At that moment, I can’t help but be transported back to before. Remembering my screams and pleads for them to stop. Praying someone would hear me and come to my rescue. They never did. They never stopped.

Jumping up from my chair, I feel myself getting worked up as I sprint out of the room. Terrified of reliving the past. Finding myself in an abandoned hallway, I slide against the wall until I’m sitting on the cold linoleum floor. Staring at the lockers as I try to calm my breathing.

“Hey, hey, are you okay?” Charlie asks, crouching in front of me with a concerned expression on his face. “Wally’s shitting himself thinking he did something wrong. I told him to hang back while I spoke to you.”

I let the tears fall down my face as I stare up at Charlie, feeling guilty that I’ve potentially upset an innocent boy because of my own trauma. I can’t go back to the group, I know I can’t. It would be in the best interests of every other ghost if I do my best to simply avoid Wally. That way nobody gets hurt.

“I’m sorry Charlie. I can’t do it, I can’t go back to the group. I can’t see him in that fucking uniform. I just can’t, I’m sorry.” My sobs are uncontrollable and I feel bad even just for putting Charlie through this when he’s known me for all of two hours.

“It’s okay, you’re okay. Is it the uniform, we can get him to change I’m sure, I know it’s not the best look but it is all he had since he died in his shoulder pads and all.”

I can’t help but let out a small laugh, wiping the tears from my face with the sleeves of my jumper. Charlie offers me his hand to help me stand up which I take graciously. He places a hand on my shoulder as a sign of encouragement, along with a gentle smile.

“I mean it Charlie. I can’t go back to the group. I don’t want to relive the memories.”

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“She’s adamant she’s not coming back.” Charlie tells the group, all of them awaiting the answers he has for them as to why the new girl ran away. “I don’t think it’s anything personal Wally but she said she can’t see you in that uniform and I think she may have had something happen regarding the football players. I don't wanna speculate though.”

“So, what? Her footballer boyfriend cheated on her and now she can’t look at poor, innocent Wally because it reminds her of him?” Rhonda asks, unimpressed by the lack of answers Charlie has.

“No, I think it’s something more than that. Something deeper. I’m sure she’ll tell us when she’s ready but for now, I would stop wearing the uniform Wally.”

The footballer didn’t need to be told twice, he instantly pulls the shirt over his head leaving him in only a tight, white tank top. Charlie smiles in appreciation, while Rhonda scoffs slightly upon seeing his muscular arms.

“Okay, so I’ve ditched the uniform, should I apologize or what?” Wally asks, looking at the group to gauge their reactions.

“Maybe now isn’t a good time Wally.” Mr Martin states, trying to think rationally. “I’d give it a day or so.”

“Or maybe just leave her alone for a while. Let her come out of her shell a bit first.” Charlie interjects.

“Yeah, let's not hurt cherry pop’s feelings.” Rhonda replies sarcastically, staring directly at Charlie.

As the rest of the group session continues, Wally stays silent, playing with the football uniform in his hands as he attempts to figure out different ways to apologize. To help her feel more at home in her new life, and potentially help her overcome the trauma of her death. Despite not managing to come up with a good idea, he does decide one thing. He will do whatever it takes to make her feel safe and become her friend.

[lazycats-stuff]

How about one where Bruce and M!Reader have been dating for a while. Reader lives in the manor and everyone in the family has opened up to reader accept Damien. One night when reader is babysitting Damien while everyone else is out reader is able to finally get through to Damien. He really opens up to reader and even ends up falling asleep in readers lap much to the shock of everyone. Reader becomes Damien’s favorite person and he is always practically clinging to readers side. If not it’s totally fine!

Oh yes! Bruce would wonder for ages. Also, no specific version of Bruce in mind, imagine any version you want. This gif popped up first.

Summary: (Y/N) does something that no one was able to do. Damian opened up.

Warnings: fluff, mentions of psychological warfare, (Y/N) is patient man, Damian is not trusting, did I mention fluff?,

(Y/N) and Bruce were match made in heaven according to Bruce's three boys plus Alfred. Bruce and (Y/N) have been dating for 3 years and (Y/N) has moved in just a few months ago to live with Bruce. The 3 boys were happy. One wasn't. But we will get to that later.

Every member of this house, expect for one, loved (Y/N). At first they thought that he was a gold digger and was just looking for money and fame. Couldn't be further from the truth. Bruce even trusted (Y/N) to tell him that he's Batman.

He was often supportive of them, didn't try to stop them, or talk them out of it or snitched. In fact, before (Y/N) moved into the manor, he would leave little snacks for the boys and Bruce to take during patrol. He slept during that period because he has a job and he can't work while sleepy.

Everyone loved it. Besides Damian, but we will get to him later. Of course, they all went to the apartment to get those snacks. It was a nice change and those snacks were lit. They gave them an energy boost and they were all happy to have the boost that runs out when they get home.

And there was one important thing that (Y/N) has that Bruce is not really known for it. Emotional availability. Boys came by to his apartment when they needed to talk to him about anything and they would be sure that (Y/N) wouldn't tell anything to Bruce unless it was serious.

Now, when Bruce proposed to (Y/N), everyone was happy. Besides Damian, but that was then. The 3 out of the 4 four boys were happy that they had a stable person alongside Alfred and they would be happy to have a second parental figure, considering that Bruce was slightly overwhelmed and needed support he needed.

Of course, the media caught wind of this and was all over (Y/N) for it. It was difficult to live a normal life, but since he was an author, he spent his time at home and just decided to keep going out to a minimum. Bruce made sure he was taken care of, knowing it wasn't easy.

(Y/N) moved in when his address got leaked and the press started hounding him even more. Bruce already wanted (Y/N) to move in, even before he proposed to him. So, one weekend, (Y/N) packed his stuff and Bruce helped him move to the manor, making some space in his room, just for (Y/N).

Everyone was happy and helped (Y/N) in any way to help him settle in. Besides Damian. Damian wasn't happy by any means and he didn't like any of this. His mother should have been the one in (Y/N)'s spot.

So what does Damian do in that situation?

Psychological warfare it is. (Y/N) found his stuff going missing from time to time. Damian would be close to him one day, then distant and cold the other and there was no way to see if he was actually any progress. Then, it got a little bit more extreme.

Damian tried to mess with him even more, more directly. Bruce and the others tried to persuade Damian and Bruce knew that punishment would only fuel the problem. (Y/N) knew that he had to prove himself to Damian that he could stand in this family.

So, (Y/N) asked Bruce to train him. To show him the ropes. Bruce was surprised and he could see why, he was hesitant, but did it anyway. Now, (Y/N) knew how to fight, knew how to see signs of something psychological happening, such as manipulation and warfare.

(Y/N) was more than ready to take on Damian and crack that tough exterior. Bruce was more than supportive, but worried that (Y/N) doesn't get hurt by Damian. (Y/N) has said that it doesn't matter. He wants Damian to accept him no matter how long it took.

Everything came to a head one evening when everyone needed to go out somewhere and (Y/N) was stuck babysitting Damian. He didn't mind it actually and it was going to be a great time to bond. Of course, if Damian wants to bond. He would never force Damian to bond. It would counter productive.

Right now, he would fancy a movie night or something like that. He made himself comfortable on the couch, a cup of green tea on the coffee table and he got himself a blanket. He put some snacks on the table too and turned on the TV to check what's on.

He could easily go to Netflix and check what to watch. This is going to be a rather nice night.

" You know father doesn't love you? " Damian said from behind the couch, near the kitchen. (Y/N) turned his head to look at him and then took his hot green tea.

" I know he does, otherwise I wouldn't be engaged to him. "

Damian scoffed and moved closer to the couch, but still far enough.

" You can scoff all you want, but I know you hate me because me because you want your mom to be with Bruce so that you can be a family. " (Y/N) said and Damian was quiet. (Y/N) knew he has hit a nail on the head with that statement.

" Also, I know you think I will try to replace your mom, but I won't be trying to. "

Damian scoffed once more and (Y/N) laugh. " Damian, you were raised by assassins and you are the son of Batman. You know when people are bullshitting you. " (Y/N) said and took a sip of his tea.

Damian knew that as well. He could see if someone was lying directly to his face. Damian moved quietly and sat down next to (Y/N), still some distance between the two. (Y/N) didn't say anything as he watched Damian, waiting for him to start. He waited for Damian to start talking.

" I... Do you know anything about my upbringing? " Damian asked (Y/N), crossing his arms, still defensive.

" I just know it was rough. Some said hell. I don't know any specifics. " (Y/N) explained and sipped his tea.

" Well... It could be described as hell... I was taught to kill anyone in 50 different way using a single object. I was never really shown love, only seen an heir to the league and the son of Batman. " Damian started and (Y/N) put his tea down, giving him his full attention.

Damian stayed silent before he started talking once more. " I was trained to be an assassin and love was... Not a thing there. When I came here, I was still cold, despite everyone trying to be nice to me. I guess deep down, I still missed my mother. When you entered the picture, I was pissed. I thought you wanted to replace my mom. " Damian paused for a moment.

(Y/N) watched him in silence. He allowed him to compose himself.

" And you were nice, so I got suspicious. Even when father recently proposed to you, I was mad and pissed." Damian said, frowning and shaking his head. " I couldn't understand why you would be so loving towards us. But I see the way father looks at you and how much he loves you and how much he has opened up emotionally. The way everyone has... " Damian stopped and moved closer to (Y/N) who lifted a blanket to let Damian get closer.

Damian did just that and he hugged (Y/N). (Y/N) wanted to scream from happiness, but he had to remain calm. " And when you didn't leave when I messed with you, there was something more than intrigued me about you. "

(Y/N) put his hand on Damian's shoulder and Damian relaxed. " I'm guessing I didn't get any love when I was younger so I guess I was just repellent to love. "

(Y/N) smiled and hugged Damian. " Don't blame yourself. I don't blame you at all. If you feel bad, we can start over completely. A new slate. Clean slate. " (Y/N) suggested and Damian nodded and (Y/N) saw a small smile on Damian's face.

" Good. " (Y/N) said, smiling widely and watched as Damian put his head on his lap, before covering himself with the blanket. I smile and pat his head.

" I know it's not easy to trust me, but I'm here for the long run. " (Y/N) said and Damian let out a hum.

" Are you tired? " (Y/N) asked and Damian nodded, closing his eyes. (Y/N) didn't say anything and caressed Damian's hair. (Y/N) smiled widely, happy that Damian liked him.

Bruce and the others came back home, worried beyond belief. Is (Y/N) hurt? Is he even alive? Bruce and the others checked the living room, one worried for his fiancé, the others worried for their dad number two.

Well, they didn't expect to see Damian sleeping in (Y/N)'s lap, looking calm and peaceful. (Y/N) shushed them with bringing his finger to his lips. He smiled back at Damian who shuffled a little bit, looking like he was going to wake up, but he remained asleep.

Bruce's jaw dropped a little.

" Hi. " (Y/N) whispers and Bruce smiled, melting at the sight of Damian laying on (Y/N)'s lap. The other 3 boys are still in shock.

" How? " Bruce whispered back as he moved closer to the duo.

" He opened up on his own. " (Y/N) whispers and Bruce cards his hand through Damian's short hair.

" Really? " Bruce whispered and kissed (Y/N)'s forehead.

" Yes. I think Damian and I will bond more. " (Y/N) whispered back, smiling. He kisses Bruce softly and looks back at Damian.

" Lets get him to bed and then get you to sleep. I'm afraid that I have to go on patrol tonight. " Bruce explains and take Damian into his arms. (Y/N) stands up and says hi to his other sons. He gave each a hug, before going to his room to sleep. He made sure that Damian is tucked in the bed and Bruce made sure he tucked Damian in correctly.

After that night, Damian was always near (Y/N), following him around, making sure he was safe at all time. Can you blame Damian? When ever they are out and doing something, press hounds them and Damian has to make sure that his dad is okay. Like, what did you expect from him?

Bruce didn't say anything as he saw how Damian spent a lot of time with (Y/N). It was nice to see and Bruce know how Damian would protect him from anything that might hurt him.

Now, what shocked Bruce was the first time Damian called (Y/N) dad. It was not something he expected and he had to sit down on the couch for a moment.

The rest of the family lost their collective minds. (Y/N) cried and hugged Damian tightly. He has never been happier and he was officially going to adopt all four of them. He talked to Bruce about adopting those four, but only when they all accepted them.

Now he was going to do just that, without a doubt. The others also called him dad, but Damian calling him that? (Y/N) was officially happy and could move to adopt all four boys. He would do that once he marries Bruce and since Bruce has connections, he could speed the thing up.

Now, does any of this mean that Damian is (Y/N)'s favorite son? Nope. He loved all of them equally. Maybe a little bit more than Bruce. And now, even when (Y/N) and his sons are now cuddling on the couch, watching a movie, (Y/N) has never felt so calm and relaxed.

This was something that he wishes never stops. Bruce may have or may have not snapped a few pictures.

[punksdoll]

Rhea & Fem!Reader have a match for the title & Rhea has a plan to throw off the Reader's game. Rhea chooses Priest to woo the reader & gain their trust, it works but Priest has develop feelings during this ruse. Rhea's plan is a success & retains the title. The reader is visibly upset & Priest while celebrating with Judgement Day is heartbroken.

~~~𝑷𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒉𝒆 𝑷𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔𝒕~~~

gif not mine like, comments, & reblogs appreciated

𝑫𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒂𝒏 𝑷𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 ^owner of gif

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: 𝒊𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒈𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒔𝒐 𝒈𝒐𝒐𝒅…𝒔𝒐 𝒈𝒐𝒐𝒅.

𝒂/𝒏: 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒉𝒖𝒓𝒕 𝒎𝒆 𝒉𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒍𝒚. 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒂𝒚 𝒕𝒐𝒐𝒌 𝒘𝒂𝒚 𝒕𝒐𝒐 𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒃𝒆𝒄𝒂𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒊 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒎𝒊𝒙𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒏 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒓𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒐 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒂𝒚…𝒊 𝒅𝒐𝒏’𝒕 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒈𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒂 𝒅𝒂𝒎 𝒊𝒇 𝒊 𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒂 𝒃𝒂𝒅 𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒅𝒆 𝒐𝒏 𝒊𝒕🥲. 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒌 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒓𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆, 𝒊 𝒉𝒐𝒑𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒆𝒏𝒋𝒐𝒚𝒆𝒅𝒅𝒅<𝟑𝟑𝟑

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒊𝒔 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒂𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔, 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒏 𝒓𝒊𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒔, 𝒕𝒔𝒌 𝒕𝒔𝒌 𝒖𝒉𝒏𝒕 𝒖𝒉𝒏𝒕 𝑫𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒂𝒏, 𝒀/𝒏 𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒎𝒑𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝑹𝒉𝒆𝒂 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒔 𝒊𝒕 𝒕𝒇 𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌, 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒕

not proofread

“HOLY SHIT?!” Michael Cole exclaims as everyone watches with shock written all across their faces as they witnessed Damian Priest drag Rhea Ripley out of the ring when she pinned Y/n, ruining her chances at winning.

Rhea looks at him with wide eyes as she shoves him, “What the hell do you think your doing, huh?!” She exclaims to him.

To the audience around them, it was a total shock. They would have never expected Damian Priest, off all the members, to be the one to backstab his own team in the back. Y/n was even shocked herself seeing as Damian was the one to cost her, her match back at Wrestlemania where she lost her title.

To the group? This is exactly what they wanted. This was the plan.

“We need to do something…something that can throw her and everyone else off. Make her believe that she has the upper hand in our rivalry…” Rhea says as she and her team members all huddle up in their locker room.

“What’s cooking in that mind of yours mami?” Dominik asks as he lays his head on her lap, tracing her championship belt.

Rhea trails her eyes to each one of her boys. She starts with Dominik. It’d be such a big shock to everyone in the arena and to y/n as well but what’s hers is her and she does not want to take a step in that route. She trails her eyes off to Finn. It could work but him and y/n never interacted, it’d be too suspicious. Her eyes skipped over JD and landed right on Damian who’s already looking at her.

“You…” Rhea points at Damian with a smirk, “tonight I have a regular match with her, I want you to ruin my chances at winning, enough where she thinks you’re on her side in this rivalry of ours. Gain her trust and make her fall in love with you or something.”

“Any reason why Damian should do it?” JD finds himself asking and immediately shrinks back when Damian gives him a hard stare. “Never mind…”

Damian stares Rhea down and the crowd waits. Waits for something to happen as they have a stare off. Y/n is stuck in her place as she watches, debating what to do. Her head turns towards the referee who starts counting down on Rhea.

“Don’t ever do that again, you hear me Damian?” Rhea jabs her finger against his chest before getting inside the ring, distracted. She kept shouting at Damian, trying to get the lost in this match.

Y/n takes it as her chance and runs up on Rhea, ending her with her finisher. She positions herself away from The Judgment Day and stares Damian down as she pins Rhea, catching the win.

•••

“I still can’t believe it…” y/n shook her head in disbelief, “he really backstabbed his own team in the back…out of everyone. I did not expect him of all.”

Liv Morgan shakes her head, “I just know she’s pissed, so so pissed.”

Y/n scoffs and nods, “did you see her face? of course she was.”

“What do you think will happen now after that?” Liv asks her and y/n frowns but before she could open her mouth, a deep voice stops her.

“Hey…”

Both woman’s head snap over to see their topic, standing in front of them.

Liv gives him a once over before walking away to let her friend handle it. Y/n gaze follows her before she removes it and lands it on Damian who is already staring at her.

“What’s the hunch?” Y/n asks, “why’d you do that for?”

Damian gives a deep sigh and shrugs, “I was sick of it. Sick of Rhea thinking that she can just run JD when she wasn’t even the first one to be a part of it.”

Y/n narrows her eyes and stares at him. She was trying to see any hint or indication that he might be lying but to no avail.

“So what now?” She finds herself asking.

“Let me help you…I know how Rhea plays. I know how she works. I know the games she likes to play. I can get you to get your title back.” Damian nods as he straightens himself up and stares at her.

Y/n raises an eyebrow and shakes her head, “why would i accept that?”

Damian tilts his head and ponders for a moment, “as an apology for making you lose your title.”

Y/n eyebrows raise in shock before shaking her head, “i don’t trust you…how do i know you won’t fuck up?”

Damian smirks and angles himself to her level, “guess you have to trust me.”

With that said, Damian turned around and walked away. Feeling eyes staring back at him.

•••

“You need to catch her by surprise, don’t start like that.”

Y/n rolls her eyes as she stands up. “How is this supposed to help me win back my title?”

It was just as surprising to Damian just as it was to Y/n when she had taken his offer. He expected more of a fight from her. More of trying to get her to trust him but it was easier said than done. Almost. It was a step to getting her trust, he knew that much. So did Rhea. All that was running through y/n’s mind when she took the offer was the thought of getting her title back. If that meant having to have help from the one who costed her, then so dam be it.

“I’m showing you how Rhea plays,” Damian gets out the ring and opens up his water bottle, “you need to try your own ways on blocking them and doing something better to get rid of them, you know?”

Y/n watches as he drinks his water, watching the way his adams apple bobbles.

Is that even what it’s called?

Y/n shrugs before paying back attention, “what if she changes her tactics, what then?”

Damian swallows his water and sets his bottle down before climbing back into the ring and walks over to her. “That’s why we’re going to practice every single thing I know about her.”

Y/n raises an eyebrow and tilts her head at him, “how can I trust that?”

Damian mocks her and tilts his head to the opposite side that hers is on and raises an eyebrow, “your trusting me right now, what’s the difference?”

Y/n narrows her eyes and straightens herself back and stares at him, “I’m not trusting you. I’m seeing you…”

Damian chuckles and straightens his head back, “you’ve been seeing me for three days now, at this point it’d be expected to have a little bit of trust in me.”

Y/n stares at him before looking away and making her way out the ring, “and it’s going to stay that way til’ I get my dam title back.” She walks away.

She always does. Damian noticed that every time he mentions something about trust, she always avoids it and walks away.

Damian watches her walk away, watching the way her hips unintentionally sway with each step she takes. He couldn’t help himself. “Is that how they move during those nights?” He called.

Y/n stops walking and looks back at him with a frown, confusion littered across her face. “What are you talking about…”

Damian smirks and looks her over, “nada.”

Y/n narrows her eyes before turning back around and walking out of the practice center.

“If that’s your way of wooing, then you suck.” Damian hears the familiar australian accent of his best friend and looks over to see Rhea leaning against the ropes of the ring, looking up at him.

Damian raises an eyebrow and walks over, crouching over to her level. “Try flirting with her then, i’d like to see how that goes.”

Rhea snorts and shakes her head, “what’s the progress?”


Damian shakes his head, “I’m teaching get your usual work when you fight but other than that, same old same old. I start talking about something other than this “mission” if you will, and she leaves. Most specifically, trust.”

Rhea gives an exasperated sigh, “Don’t mention anything about trust. Just let what happens, happens.” She says as she slides into the ring, making Damian stand to his full height and looks at her, “in the meantime, show me what you showed her.”

Damian chuckles and with that, they both get into practice with each other.

•••

He had taken her advice. Every time Damian would be around y/n showing her each and every move that he knows Rhea does, he steers clear from mentioning anything other than what they are doing.

At first, y/n had felt it was awkward for her. She never stayed too long with him at all. She’d always wait for him to start talking about something and she takes that as her cue to leave but now that he never does, it’s weird. Soon though, she got used to it. She got used to his presence and his talks of what to do and what not to do and soon enough, she’s the one who starts the conversations.

It’s been going on for a while. Their meetups in the practice center turned into meetups outside of the practice center.

To Y/n, she would update Liv about it all everyday. Even going as far to tell her that she could potentially trust him but that’s only for Liv’s ears.

As for Damian, he would update Rhea behind y/n’s back. Those updates though went from regularly to barely. In the midst of them hanging out, outside of work, Damian found himself enjoying her company. Enjoying the talks they had that didn’t involve Rhea. Enjoyed the hang outs that was just them two and no one else. Enjoying it enough to start to feel bad about this thing going on. He even talked to Finn about it.

“I don’t know man, i just…it doesn’t feel right to continue to play in her face like this.” Damian sighs as he leans back on the hotel couch with Finn next to him.

“Don’t tell me you’re startin’ to feel bad mate?” Finn raises an eyebrow at him.

“That’s exactly what i am telling you,” Damian takes a swig of his beer in hand.

Finn looks at him and Damian gives him a clear uncomfortable expression. “You like her don’t you?”

Damian didn’t dare to answer that day. He didn’t know it then but now…as he quite literally stares down the girl that ,he could potentially have something with only to ruin it, get ready? He thinks he probably does…

“How do I look?” Y/n turns around towards Damian with such a breathtaking smile that he has to hold back the compliment and give her a tight lipped smile.

“Good as per usual.” Damian nods.

Y/n gives him a disgusted look, “Good? Cariño, I need beautiful or something, i’m changing.”

Damian watches y/n grab another set of ring attire to go ahead and change for the fourth time today. All because he said good.

Damian stands up and immediately stops her, “no no no,” he shakes his head, “you look like everyone’s new championship. How ‘bout that?” He raises an eyebrow.

Y/n tilts her head, “could be better but I guess i’ll take it.” She gives him a sheepish smile before setting the gear in her hand, back down.

“You ready for tonight?” Damian finds himself asking as he slowly sits back down, watching y/n add some finishing touches to her makeup.

“Absolutely. With the amount of training we’ve been doing, I feel more than ready.” Y/n hums, “are you?”

Damian raises an eyebrow and stares at her from the mirror she’s staring at herself in. Was he? No. But he wouldn’t tell her that.

“For you to win that title back? Absolutely…” He trails off with a slow nod and a small smile that makes y/n beam at him.

There’s a moment of silence. During that silence, y/n and Damian are staring at each other through the mirror. Simply staring.

“Damian?” Y/n says quietly as she straightens herself back up to her height. Damian hums and watches as she suddenly grows nervous, “Thank you…for everything you’ve been doing for me for these past couple of weeks. It means a lot to me, truly.”

Damian takes in a shaky breath as he suddenly feels his chest tighten and the guilt crawl its way up to his heart. If he thought the guilt was strong before, then he was in for a rude awakening.

“And maybe after I win…” she continues on as someone walks in her locker room and gives her the time that she has before leaving, “we can go get something to eat? just me and you. celebrate together. all on me as a thank you…”

Damian closes his eyes and feels himself wanting to actually shed tears. This guilt was slowly growing bigger and bigger by the minute at each word she says. So clueless…

“Yeah…I’d love that.” Damian finds himself answering as he opens his eyes and sees her turned towards him with a smile. “Why don’t you go prepare for your entrance, i’ll be watching from the back.”

Y/n gives him a smile and leans down to give his cheek a kiss, lingering on longer then usual before quickly pulling away and strolling out and away.

Barely 2 minutes before she left does Rhea come barging in with the rest of the JD. “It’s all set yeah? Remember the plan?”

Damian stares at Rhea and slowly nods, his eyes trailing over to Finn who is already looking at him with sympathy before he looks back at Rhea.

“Yeah…I remember.”

•••

“OH WHAT THE HELL?!” Michael Cole exclaims as everyone watches with shock at witnessing Damian Priest dragging Y/n out of the ring by her legs.

Y/n whiplashes herself when she turns around and sees Damian standing in front of her with a hard face on. “What the hell are you doing? I had the pin, I was going to win.” She frowns.

Damian looks at her and slowly shakes his head, “that’s mami’s title.”

Y/n’s face drops as she stares at Damian. She doesn’t have any time to think because as soon as she hears the referee almost get to ten, she’s rushing back in the ring and is positioned into a riptide.

Rhea retains…

Y/n simply lays there as she stares up at the ceiling of the arena. It all suddenly makes sense to her now. All of the meetups in the practice center and even the hangouts outside of it, they were all a ploy. A ploy for Damian to get her to trust him enough to be blinded by the fact that he was just going to backstab her in the back.

Damian catches Rhea as she throws herself at him with a victorious laugh, holding up her championship belt. If you would have told Damian weeks ago that he’d be falling for someone that he was using, he would have laughed in your face. But now? Oh how he wishes he wasn’t the one that was chosen to do all of this.

“We did it playboy!” Rhea laughs as she gets down from him, “let’s go celebrate.”

Y/n slowly sits herself up and makes eye contact with Damian who is slowly walking away from her.

Guilt in his eyes.

Hurt in hers.

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Impressions

Pairing: Will Miller x Reader

Notes: Idk y'all my brain spit this out. I haven’t written Will in, like…..100 years?

Rating: Mature - mostly for language

Warnings: Canon-typical violence, angst, fluff. Not beta-read.

Length: 7.5K

Summary: Your first two impressions that you get of Will Miller are pretty stellar. That said, they don't actually involve meeting the guy.

The day you do, well. That's another story.

GIF by charllehunnam

Your first impression of Will Miller is technically...Good.

It's from Benny, is the thing.

You hear the sweet and the sour, the grumbling when Benny is training at the gym alone in the mornings—"He's a hard ass, but he means well."

It's said with a little smile, with sibling love and familiarity that tells you that Ben and Will have told each other to go fuck themselves just as much as they've said that they're proud of one another.

Your second impression of Will comes from Terry.

Terrence Owen McLowery is your best friend, your informal trainee, and is currently ranked in the Middleweight division, just a few spots behind Ben Miller (but gaining, and fast). He's one of the few openly gay boxers in your area and in his division, something that he might get more hate for if he couldn't kick the shit out of anyone slagging his name off behind his back.

Terry gets to as many matches as he possibly can, even when he's not fighting in them. You try to join him as often as you can, but there are times when you just can't swing it. He likes to scope out the competition.

"I'm gonna be in there, kickin' their ass one day," He tells you, "I should clock their weaknesses now, not then."

He spends more time ringside than he does in the ring for the sake of observation. And he's seen the Miller brothers at fight after fight.

"You oughta see 'im," Terry says, a dreamy look in his eyes—and you don't know if he's talking about Ben or Will, but you kinda figure it's both. Look, you've met Ben, you wouldn't be surprised if good genes ran in the family.

"He's real level-headed, ringside, even when Ben’s in a jam," Terry adds, and you realize that he's talking about Will, "Kinda like you, but without the taunting."

You roll your eyes a little bit, "You told me the taunting makes you try harder."

"Hmph."

"And I told you a real coach wouldn't do that,” You tack on.

Terry doesn't hmph at that one. He doesn't like it when you point out that you're not a professional coach. You taught him the basics a long time ago, back when the two of you needed to have one another's backs on the playground—and you keep him honest when he's training up now. But Terry needs a coach that'll actually help him in the ring, not do what you do. And sure, you don't do the worst job, but Terry could go further with a professional.

--

Your first two impressions that you get of Will Miller are pretty stellar. That said, they don't actually involve meeting the guy.

The day you do, well. That's another story.

--

You’re at the gym early. Terry is supposed to be there, too, but he took a late shift at work and couldn’t drag himself out of bed. You don’t blame him—a body needs rest if you’re going to put it through its paces. You’re striding past the ring at the center of the gym when you spot Ben sparring with another contender in the middleweight division. You spot an error, one that Terry makes frequently himself, and call out,

“Pick up your right shoulder, Miller!” 

The advice incurs a nod from Ben—and a glare from a golden-headed man standing ringside. Something in his cool gaze chastens you, and you hurry on toward the class you signed up for. 

--

“What was with that guy?” You ask Ben later as you’re stretching. 

“What guy?”

“Blonde, bearded…Glaring?” You remind him. Ben’s eyebrows shoot up.

“You mean Will?”

“That was Will?” You ask in a hushed whisper. 

“Yeah. Glaring?”

“He looked like he was trying to melt me with his laser vision.” 

It makes Benny’s laugh boom in the gym, and you glance around to see if you’ve attracted any attention. Sure enough, Will’s not too far off, his arms folded across his chest as he speaks to someone. His gaze darts between Ben and you, and his eyes narrow. 

“Aaaand there it is again,” You mutter, drawing your legs back from the stretch. 

-- 

“Hey,” You hear. You frown, turning back to the source, and find Will striding toward you. You’re about to offer your hand, to introduce yourself—in relation to Ben, or Terry, something—but he speaks again before you can get a word out:

“Ben’s got a fight coming up. He doesn’t need any glove bunnies distracting him.” 

Your mouth was opened to speak, but now your jaw drops, a scoff of indignation flying out. 

“Glove bunnies?” You repeat, stunned. Will waves you off. 

“Whatever Ben does in his own time is none of my business, but when he’s here, and when he’s in the ring, he needs to be focused.” 

Will doesn’t let you get in another word before he’s turning and walking away. You watch him go, stunned. Asshole. Asshole. As you turn to head into the locker room, you remember Ben telling you that he’s a hard ass, but he means well. 

Well-meaning or not, Will Miller is a dick. 

--

“There’s a man outside who’s looking for you,” You hear.

You glance up from your laptop, brows raised at your coworker. It couldn’t be Terry; he’d call or text you, not ask for you. And it can’t be…Actually, you can’t think of any other guy that would come looking for you at work. 

“Did you tell him I was in here?”

“I said I wasn’t sure anyone by that name worked here and that I’d check,” Molly relays. You nod a little bit, muttering, “Solid,” before adding, “He say who he is?” 

“Will Miller?”

You freeze, then, hands hovering over your keyboard. What the hell is Miller doing there? And how does he know where you work?

“Okay,” You nod, “Okay, tell him I’ll be out in a...A minute.” 

“Sure.” Molly starts to drift away from you before she turns, half-jogging back to your desk. 

“He is so hot,” She hisses. You can't help your grudging smile. 

“Yes, he is.” 

Asshole or not, you can agree that Will Miller is annoyingly, startlingly attractive. 

--

The man that meets you outside is a far cry from the one who accosted you at the gym just a week ago. In a well-fitting polo and a pair of khakis, he looks more like a suburban dad than a hardened drillmaster. You stop just a few feet from the door to your office, arms folded tightly over your chest. He clears his throat, approaching you slowly and stopping just a couple of steps from you. 

“Ben had a fight this weekend,” He says. Him starting that way makes your stomach swoop with fear. You immediately worry that something’s gone wrong, that Ben is badly hurt. But Will goes on: 

“He kept his right shoulder up. That little tip saved his ass a few times.” 

Your brows raise. You didn’t expect him to admit it, even if it did help. 

“I saw Terry, too,” Will adds, “And realized precisely how and where I fucked up when he showed me a picture of you.”

Will doesn't look like he's trying to melt you with his heat vision anymore. In fact, he looks...Genuinely remorseful.

“I see,” You nod a little. 

Will pushes a sigh out through his nose. 

“I’m sorry for approaching the situation the way I did. And for calling you a, uh—”

“Glove bunny?”

He winces with the reminder. “Yeah. I didn’t have all of the facts. Even if I had, it was still the wrong way to approach the situation, and I apologize.” 

You take a moment to drink in his face again, as if you’re seeing it for the first time. His blue eyes are soft where they were icy, and the once-harsh press of his lips is replaced with a regretful, almost contemplative pout. And then you nod a touch.

“I appreciate and accept your apology.” 

Something akin to relief seems to wash over him, and he holds his hand out. 

“I’m Will, by the way.” 

“Will?” You repeat, screwing your face up in mock confusion, “Will...Will...That certainly sounds familiar.”

A smile tugs his lips up just a touch as he pumps your hand up and down. 

“I train Ben Miller. I'm his brother,” He adds. 

“Oh, that Will. Right, of course.” 

You let his hand drop and folded your arms across your chest. 

“Blank slate,” You add softly. 

Will’s brows jump. 

“Completely?”

“Well, Ben says you’re a hard ass and Terry thinks you’re dreamy, but I’ll try not to let their impressions color mine.” 

“Pretty mixed reviews.”

“Mhm.” 

The two of you exchange curious smiles before you nod over your shoulder. 

“I’ve gotta get back to work."

“Of course.”

“See you around, Miller.” 

--

“Seriously, Terrence!” You call out as Terry spars with one of the other gym members, “Is this prep or are you trying to waltz him into tapping out?” 

Terry groans, reeling away from his sparring partner. 

“God, you’re a bitch,” He grunts as he walks toward you, bending over for his water. 

“And you’re a dumbass, Billy Elliot. Get back in there.” 

“He’s holding his breath,” You hear. You turn back to see Will Miller coming closer.

“When he punches,” He clarifies. 

“You can tell him,” You offer before you whistle sharply, stopping Terry from stepping more deeply into the ring. You nod toward Will and listen as he offers his tip. Terry takes his time listening, nodding, leaning against the ropes.

“...Think you got it?” You ask.

“Loud and clear,” Terry agrees before turning back to his sparring partner.

You glance over at Will, nodding your chin up. “Thanks."

“Sure,” Will smiles before walking away. Ben’s not too far away, working at a punching bag. You watch Will for a long moment before turning back to Terry in the ring. Terry ducks out of the way of an oncoming jab, and finds time to shoot you a wink before he turns back to his sparring partner. 

--

“Terry—” 

“Come on—” 

“I can’t tonight, I’ve got an early meeting tomorrow!” 

“Just a few rounds! Come with me, see Ben in action—and see what I mean about Will ring-side.”

“You just want me to go because you think you’ll be much less conspicuous drooling over them if I’m there.” 

“Maybe.”

“And for the record, you’d be just as conspicuous.”

“We don’t know that.”

“Yes we do.” 

“Come with meeee," He whines. "If you’re not there, I’ll curse out a redneck bigot and I’ll get in trouble for beating him up in the parking lot.” 

“Well then you and the Millers can tag team.” 

Terry groans loudly, tipping his head back. “Don’t. Don’t even think about putting ‘Miller’ and ‘tag team’ in the same sentence. My mind just went to about eight filthy places.” 

“Just eight?”

“Alright, nine.”

“Terry. Sweetheart. Angel. Not tonight.” 

“Four rounds.” 

“No.” 

“Two rounds.” 

“Terry—”

“Ben’ll probably take ‘em down in one.” 

“I’m sure he’d love that you have so much faith in his skill, but we’ll have to get through the matches before his, and that’ll already be way late.” 

“I won’t make you come to the gym with me tomorrow.” 

“Probably because you won’t make it to the gym tomorrow.”  

“That’s not the point.” 

--

You didn’t always love the atmosphere around the fight. You used to hate the screaming, the overpriced beer, the rednecks. It used to make you wary, going with Terry. People knew him. It's not secret that he's gay. He used to catch more shit for it before he bulked up and started fighting. Even after he had, the slurs hadn’t stopped. It used to raise your hackles—but Terry’s got more of a handle on how he approaches those incidents, and he’s made a lot of friends that frequent the ring, both as spectators, and in the Middleweight division.

You wouldn’t say that you like going to fights now, but you don’t find it as daunting as you used to. Now, the atmosphere is exciting—it zips through you like lightning; it makes your fingers tingle, and your heart pound. 

“Here,” Terry calls out, pressing a beer into your hand. 

“I told you I’ve got work tomorrow!” 

“I got two for myself, you’re just holding that one for me.” 

“Bullshit,” You laugh, looking up at the ring as the bell sounds. 

By the time the first two fights are down, you know you should leave. It’s late, and it’s only going to get later—you’ve had three beers, and Terry’s coming back with another one. 

“Terry, I really shouldn’t—”

“Ben’s coming down the hall,” He half-yells into your ear, and you have to stop yourself from muttering, ‘Fucking finally,’ when it bubbles up in you. You push it down with a gulp of beer, glancing back and trying to catch sight of the Millers. You see Benny’s chestnut hair; Will’s bright head bobs into view just moments later. You and Terry begin to cheer almost on instinct as they come more fully into view—as Benny heads into the ring, and Will rounds the corner. Will looks around, and his eyes catch on you and Terry. He raises his hand to give Terry a pat on the shoulder, and meets your eyes dead-on. 

It’s a half-second, that’s all, but it seems to last for far longer. If anyone asked you what happened in that half-second, you’d tell them that you nodded to him—you know that for sure, because he nods, too. You’re not sure if it’s the beer, or the crackling of the air around you, but your skin feels hot. You don’t even know if you’re smiling. But Will’s gaze holds on yours for a long time, even as he walks on. When he finally looks away, you can feel your heart thudding in the vicinity of your throat. 

Terry leans over, his shoulder nudging yours as he speaks into your ear:

“Distracted much?” 

“...What?” You manage, tipping your head back toward him as you watch Benny climb into the ring.

“Uh-huh.” 

When you glance up at Terry, you find him grinning smugly, and you reach out, shoving his shoulder as you grumble, “Shut up.” As the bell sounds, you yell out, “Let’s go!” and vaguely register Will’s yell of, “It’s time to work!” 

--

Ben is a hunter in the ring.

You can’t help but compare the way he fights with the way Terry fights. Terry prefers to hold back, to let his opponent dance around and tire themselves out. Terry is a slow-burn; Benny is a wildfire. Will is as much wind to guide his brother as he throws gasoline on Benny’s flame, honing his path and stoking his focus on the rare occasions that Benny takes a hard hit or seems to flounder. 

You plan to only stay for a couple of rounds, but before you know it, you’re cheering Benny as his opponent is knocked down, and stays down. The ref takes hold of Benny’s wrist, holding it up as he proclaims him the winner, and you and Terry crow with excitement. As the crowd begins to flow—as Benny is led out to be checked over by the ring doctor—you turn to Terry, ready to insist again that you have to leave. But you feel a hand land on your shoulder, and turn your head to see Will leaning in. He gets close between you and Terry, and asks over the hum of the crowd, “What are you guys doing now?” 

--

You should be more concerned about the fact that tomorrow morning (well, later this morning) is going to be absolute hell for you. You should be concerned about the fact that when you get home, whenever you get home, you’re probably going to need to have a couple of pieces of toast and a few glasses of water. Your head is buzzing with the beers you had at the fight, and now with the two that you’ve had at the bar. But the zipwire-tense feeling that had ripped through you is ebbing as you watch Benny return from the bar with a massive basket of fries and a fresh round of beers.

Oh, man. You’re really gonna regret this tomorrow. 

You push the thought away as you reach out, taking up a precariously full beer and leaning back in your seat. 

“Surprised you’ve got such a sedate after party,” Terry comments as he takes one of the beers. 

“Fewer glove bunnies than I expected,” You add, eyes sliding to Will’s, where he sits across from you. He appears to bite back a smile, eyes dipping to the table. Benny’s eyes dart between the two of you, brow furrowing, and you give a small, reassuring shake of your head. 

“I have a question,” Benny declares, leaning against the table. 

“Has it got anything to do with that swelling cheek?” Terry asks, waving a finger toward Benny’s face. 

“No,” Benny huffs, “I know how all about that. How’d you two meet?” He asks. You glance at Terry, arching a brow as he turns to you with a grin. 

“School,” Is your short answer. 

“I moved in around, like…Fifth grade-ish?” Terry’s brow furrows. 

“It wasn’t fifth-grade-ish, it was fifth grade,” You correct. 

“I wasn’t the most social kid, and that caught me a lot of shit. I got picked on, and this one,” Terry pushes his shoulder against yours, and you sway with it, bobbing back and forth, “Taught me how to keep from getting my ass kicked on the way home.” 

“Seriously?” Ben asks. You shrug a little. 

“It started with short-cuts to get him home, but when other kids caught on, things got a bit more…Physical.” 

“Did you already know how to fight?” Will asks. 

“I wouldn’t say that. I knew how to swing a fist, I didn’t really know how to fight. We both learned to, though, because we…Had to.”

“She’s been stuck with me ever since,” Terry sighs dramatically. You roll your eyes, turning a fond smile up at him. 

“He’s like my taller, irritating younger brother,” You add.

“I know all about that,” Will pipes up, and you can’t help but turn a laugh at him. 

“So what about you two, how did you two meet?” You tease, waving your finger between them. 

“Oh, man,” Ben mutters. 

“Well I came home one day and my mom said, ‘We have a surprise for you’,” Will says, “And then six months later, this dick shows up.” 

“And he’s been stuck with me ever since,” Ben smiles, glancing at Will. You reach out, plucking up a couple of the fries and dipping them in ketchup. 

“Did you guys get along growing up?” 

“We don’t even get along now,” Ben teases. Will chuckles, shaking his head. 

“Not always. We butt heads as kids, and we do sometimes now, but…We get our shit done.” 

“He’s a hardass,” Ben cuts in.

“And he’s a dumbass.”

You grin. “So you complement each other is what I’m hearing.” 

--  

“Haven’t seen you in a couple of days.” 

You’re taking a long pull from your water bottle, fighting the dryness in your throat when you hear Will. 

“What can I say,” You manage as you lower it. “I only just recovered from going out with y’all the other night.” 

Will chuckles, leaning against the pillar beside you as you wipe down your treadmill. 

“Didn’t mean to tire you out.” 

“I’m out of practice. Terry hasn’t had a fight in a couple of months, so I don’t stay up that late anymore.” 

“No?”

“Nope. I’m in bed at 9:30 and I like it.” 

You take up your water bottle, and the two of you start drifting away from the treadmills.

“Why hasn’t Terry been in the ring?” Will plies. 

“His rotator cuff’s kinda fucked up. He’s been taking it easy—Well. As easy as he's willing to take it. He has a check-in with his doctor in a couple of weeks.” 

“That must be driving him nuts.” 

“Oh, he’s losing it. He’s trying to go to as many fights as he can, though.”

“I’ve seen him at a few lately—Besides, Benny’s, you know. I was wondering why you didn’t go with him.” 

You stop at the door to the women’s locker room and turn around to face him. 

“Bed. 9:30,” You reiterate.

“Well I know that now.” Will tucks his hands into his pockets, smiling. “I wanted to ask: Do you think you could see it in yourself to duck your bedtime again?” 

“Depends on what for.” 

“There’s a fight down in Fernsworth this weekend. There’s a new kid on the bill, he’s apparently pretty vicious.” 

“Oh yeah? When this weekend?” 

“Friday.” 

You consider, lips pursing, and Will chuckles at your expression.

“What is it?” He asks.

“Terry’s got work that night.” 

“So’s Ben.” 

Your gut swoops in surprise, a brow lifting and falling quickly, but Will’s face remains as calm as ever.

“So?” Will presses. If you were reading into it, you’d think he was batting his pretty eyelashes. Before you can overthink it, you hold your hand out and order: “Phone.”

Will rifles into his pocket and pulls it out, passing it over. You add yourself as a contact, your heart thudding in your chest, ears going hot as you double-check that it’s right. You pass it back to Will, meeting his eyes again. “You can send me all the details.”

“Don’t feel like talking to me anymore?”

“I have to go to work, Miller,” You laugh, taking a couple of steps back. “Text me—And keep an eye out for those glove bunnies.” 

“Always.” 

You get one last look at Will, at his sweet, amused smile, and you turn, heading in to take a shower (and maybe to silently scream into your hands, a little). 

--  

You don’t dress up, and you do not tell Terry where you’re going, or with whom. It’s been bad enough that he clocked your swell of interest when you’d gone out with all of them, and worse still that he’s encouraged it. You’d been pressing your hands down onto the tops of his shoes, ensuring that his feet stayed flat as he worked on his core.

“At least—fuck him,” Terry had insisted as he’d come up from reps of crunches. “Do you—have any idea—what’d I’d do tuh—Phew—Have those pretty—blue eyes pointed at me—like that?” 

You’d raised your brow, casting a wary eye about to ensure that neither of the Miller brothers were anywhere nearby before you’d insisted, “Nothing is going to happen between me and Will.” 

“Why—the hell—not?” Terry gasped, finishing out his reps. He groaned, sweeping his hand across his sweating brow before planting both hands on the mat behind himself. “He’s leaps and bounds better than the other assholes you used to fuck with.” 

Like it or not, you knew Terry was right.

For your rough and real first impression, Will is actually kinda sweet. You still don’t know him all that well, and maybe tonight could change that. But you insist to yourself that you’re not going out to flirt with Will, you’re going to see this new fighter (Charlie “Shredder” Klein: 5’9, 194 pounds, rookie, southpaw) and gather some info for when, inevitably, Terry winds up fighting the guy. You dress…Comfortably, in one of your nicer pairs of jeans and one of your favorite tops. You feel cute, and you feel cute for you. If Will thinks that you’re cute in the outfit, well…That’s just a bonus. 

You don’t think he would tell you, though. Will Miller seems like the type to keep his cards close to his chest. 

The ride down to the venue is filled with polite small talk. The feeling in the cab of his truck is almost like the same nervous air of a first date. Your stomach is twisting like a nest of garter snakes; your skin is hot with nerves; you rub your sweaty palms nervously against your jeans. The two of you stick close together at the fight—though you don't exactly have an alternative; the venue is packed. Now and again, if you get nudged too roughly by someone else, or pushed one way or another, Will cuts a sharp, warning look at them over your head at the perpetrator. The third or so time it happens, you reach out, resting a hand on his arm.

“Don’t worry about them,” You say into his ear, cutting over the noise, “The fight’s in the ring, not with these dickheads.” 

Will’s lips twitch with a smile as he leans in to speak into your ear in turn. He says, “It’ll be here if they’re not careful,” But you almost don’t catch it. You’re too focused on everything else—on the press of his warm and firm body against your side; on the way his hand rests on your lower back; on the whisper of his beard against your cheek; on the brush of his lips and breath against the shell of your ear, and the way his voice seems to drown out the clamor of the spectators around you. It makes your heart tick up in your chest, a shiver tripping down your spine and stopping right where his hand sits. 

When your mind catches up with what he’s said, you laugh, nudging his hip with yours.

“Eyes on the prize, Miller,” You urge.

“They are,” He answers without missing a beat. It makes your stomach flip, and for a moment, you can’t bring yourself to look away. You finally force yourself to, and to clap as the announcer brings in the first contender, looking around to try and catch a glimpse of them—and not to overthink the way that Will’s hand is still resting on your back. 

--  

“Weak spots?” Will asks. You consider for a moment, running your finger along the side of your beer bottle. The buzz from the fight is wearing off, and the bar that you've gone to is far more quiet compared to the venue.

“He doesn’t go in…With a plan,” You say after a moment.

“His coach was calling plays.”

“Yeah, but Klein wasn’t listening. I mean when you tell Ben to back the fuck off or get away from the ropes, he backs the fuck off or gets away from the ropes, because in that moment, you see things in a way that he doesn’t. He trusts you to steer him. Klein’s coach can yell whatever he wants, but it’s not heard. Klein’s in the fight, he’s on the inside, he thinks he knows best, and that…That got him fucked up tonight. Might not always get him fucked up, but today’s outcome, you know. Not so much.” 

“Strong indictment.” 

“You asked me what I thought.”

“And I got it. I appreciate that.” 

You raise your brows at Will’s calm, honest expression.

“What about you?” You ask, nodding to him, “What do you think his weak spots are?” 

“He’s a brawler, not a fighter. He likes to go in for little…squirrely swiping matches. He wants excitement, not wins.” 

You shake your head at the assessment. “That just spells trouble for our boys.” 

“Less trouble if we go in with a plan.”

“I’ll drink to that.”

The two of you lightly clink your beers together, sharing a smile before you take sips.

“I’m surprised you came tonight,” Will admits as he sets his bottle down. 

“Really?"

“Little bit.” 

“Why?” 

“We didn’t exactly have the nicest start.” 

“No, we didn’t, but…I don’t know, I thought we were on a more level field now.”

“I think we are.”

The two of you watch one another for a long moment, considering, and before you can say anything, Will adds: “I’m glad you came with me.” 

“Yeah? Didn’t wanna brave the hillbilly circus alone?” 

“I have before and it’s never fun.” 

“It wasn’t so bad tonight.” 

“I had good company.”

You smile a little bit, eyes sweeping Will’s face as flattery wells in your stomach.

“...You knew Terry had work tonight, didn’t you,” You accuse softly. Will shrugs a shoulder, raising his bottle to his lips again. You can’t help your flattered smile, and you force yourself to keep your eyes on him.

“Ben might’ve mentioned it,” Will finally concedes. 

“Interesting.” 

“Is it?”

“I think so.” 

“Good interesting or bad interesting?”

“I'm still sitting here, aren’t I?” 

Will’s smile widens, and your stomach flutters. “You could’ve just asked me out,” You add in a mutter.

“Well, now I know that for next time.” 

Next time. Your face goes hot; the beer in your stomach feels like it’s bubbling. 

“Yes you do,” You agree, nodding a little.

“When I do,” Will adds, leaning against the table, sending another burst through your chest at his use of ‘when’ where you'd expected 'if', “You alright with it being this sort of thing?”

“What, a fight and a beer? Hell yeah—Long as it’s before 9:30.” 

Will laughs, tugging his sleeve back and glancing at his watch. 

“You have any idea what time it is?” 

“No, and I do not wanna know.” 

-- 

You fold your across your chest, eyeing Terry’s form as he pounds the punching bag in front of himself. 

“How are you feeling?” You ask as he leans away from the bag, swiping at the sweat dripping down his face. 

“‘Bout what?” He asks a little blandly between pants. 

“The fight.” 

“You asking me because I got a fight, or does it have to do with who I’m going up against?” 

You purse your lips, eyes sweeping the gym for any sign of either of the Miller brothers. Finding neither, you answer, “Both?” 

Terry chuckles, turning back to the bag.

“I’m not gonna go easy on Benny just ‘cause he’s a friend, and he ain’t gonna take it easy on me, either—”

“I know—”

“I mean, we always knew this was gonna happen—”

“I know! I know, oh my god, I get it.” 

“I’m just sayin’,” Terry mutters, punching viciously at the bag again.

“I’d be a bad coach not to ask, you know half of the fight’s in your head. And speaking of bad coach,” You add, “You found anyone else yet?” 

Terry casts you an irritated look out of the corner of his eye.

“Are you really talkin’ about this right now?”

“...Okay, letting it go,” You sigh before tacking on, “And you’re holding your breath again.” 

“I was about to say the same thing,” You hear from behind you. You turn to see Will just a few steps away. You smile almost involuntarily. You haven’t seen Will since your not-quite date, but you’ve thought about him and texted with him plenty.

“Shouldn’t you be mindin’ your own fighter, Miller?” Terry asks, straightening up and raising his hands to stop the swinging bag.

“Don’t worry, McLowery. The second he needs minding, I’ll be on it.” Will takes a few steps back from you both, shooting you a wink before he turns away. Your stomach twists, and you carefully smooth your smile away before turning to face Terry again. 

“Alright, c’mon,” You wave him toward the bag again, “Let’s go, we got half an hour and then we gotta get going. I can’t be late for work again.” 

-- 

It’s odd, finding yourself on the opposite side of the ring as Will. As nervous as you are—for the way your body feels like it’s buzzing, a tingle in your fingertips—you know that the boys’ll take this seriously. It was going to happen sooner or later; you just didn’t think it would be so soon. You hope that they come out of the ring with their friendships (and their bones) intact.

You shift from foot to foot, drawing a shaky breath in through your nose as Ben and Terry begin to circle up. Your eye catches on Will’s for just a moment. You trade nods, then turn your eyes back to your respective fighters. It’s a heady moment. The room seems to quiet around you for a moment as Ben and Terry approach one another, each with one fist out and one by their cheeks. You hardly blink as they get closer and closer—

--

“I almost had you.” 

It’s a gravely mutter, the first thing that Terry’s said since leaving the ring. He’s got a fat lip, and his right cheek is going to make it look like he’s part chipmunk in the morning. It’s a moment before Ben offers a grumbled, “...Almost.” Then, “Didn’t, though.” 

Terry takes a swipe at his head. Ben ducks it, raising his arm to push at Terry’s shoulder. You shake your head, leaning against the bar and watching them teasingly grapple. 

“You think they’d be too tired to do that by now,” You comment, shaking your head. 

“Adrenaline’s probably still pushin’ em. They’ll crash later.” 

The both of you are speaking a little more softly than usual; you had yelled your heads off at the match, and you're not sure about Will, but your throat feels so fricking raw. You nod, smile widening as the guys scrap a little more. 

“Hey—Alright, alright,” You finally raise your voice as they knock back into a stool. “If your sorry asses get us thrown out, you're paying.” 

“Drinks are on me, anyway,” Benny turns to give you a grin, teeth bright beneath the shiner developing on his right eye. Still, it’s a relief to see the boys settle. You shift on your stool and lean back against the bar, twisting your seat back and forth. 

“How are you feelin’?” 

You glance over at Will, brow furrowing in confusion at the question. 

“I didn’t just go five rounds with those numbskulls,” You point out, nodding toward them. 

“I know. You seemed…Tense.” 

“I was worried about ‘em.” 

“Terry?” 

“Both of them.” 

Will nods, eyes sweeping across your face before he glances around to the guys. 

“They’re doing alright.” 

“I know. I’m—I’m calming down, I just…” You trail off, shaking your head. “So many of Terry’s other friends in the ring are in different divisions. This is the first friend he’s, like, fought-fought.” 

“He did alright.” 

“No, I know. Nothing too broken. And Ben’s fine, too, so. Like I said,” You raise your hands in a slight pushing motion. “Calming down.” 

Will smiles, taking a step closer and sliding his arm around your middle, bracketing you against the bar. Your stomach flips at the closeness, at the weight and warmth of his arm. 

“Glad to hear it.” 

“You’ve just been completely chill the whole time?” 

Will shrugs. “I trusted the guys to handle it. They handled it.” 

“Alright…Knowitall,” You mutter. You smile as Will takes a step closer. He seems to glance toward the guys again before he lowers his head, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. Your stomach bursts with butterflies, and you gently lower your head, resting it against his. You turn your head as you hear the bartender’s, “Here you go,” behind you. The two of you straighten up, turning to the bar fully and reaching for your beers. 

“So,” Will clears his throat, “You busy this Friday?” 

You smile, trailing your finger along the side of your glass. 

“Is there another southpaw you wanna get a look at?” 

“Nope, just dinner. I thought maybe I could cook at your place—that way I won’t interfere with your bedtime.” 

You can’t help your grin, or the slight tip of your head as he crowds close again.

“That is so considerate of you, Miller.” 

“I do what I can.” 

-- 

You try to chip in for the groceries, but Will won’t hear of it. He won’t even tell you what he’s making. 

“You know that I can probably mentally tally up whatever it is you bring and, like, Venmo you that amount, right?” You ask. It’s a little huffed as it leaves you, your gaze and focus on the swinging punching bag in front of you. When Will doesn’t answer, you glance over, and do a double take at the sight of him.

He’s watching you with a warm, sweet look, his hands tucked in his pocket as he slouches against the wall beside you. You raise your hands to steady the bag and keep it from swinging and hitting you in the face, stomach fluttering at the way this man is looking at you—like you’re dolled up and wearing a goddamn ballgown, and not sweating in the middle of a gym. 

“Besides, what if I have an allergy or something?” You add. 

“I’ve already run the ingredients by someone.” 

You frown. “Who?” 

Will doesn’t answer, just shrugs and holds his gaze steadily on yours. You narrow your eyes slightly, turning to look around the gym. Terry’s not too far off—and he’s pointedly keeping his focus on anything but you. 

“...Terrence,” You call out. 

“Busy!” He yells back, plucking his water bottle and phone and hurrying to another machine. You roll your eyes, turning back to Will with a mutter of, “Spy.” 

His smile widens.

“I can be there by six, that alright?” He asks, pushes off of the wall. 

“Uh-huh.” 

“If I see any kind of calculator when I’m cooking…”

“Oh, you won’t. I’m like a phone ninja.” 

Will chuckles, leaning in and murmuring, “See you tonight.” 

The closeness of his murmur and his breath brushing against your sweat-slicked skin sends goosebumps skittering down your arms. 

-- 

Your plan to stealthily tally everything up disappears as Will unpacks the groceries. You blink, stunned, before you pick up a jar of sauce, turning it around in your hands. 

“Are you fricking kidding me?” 

Will doesn’t answer. He just backs off, an amused smile on his lips and his hand on his hip as you reach into the grocery bag and rifle through it before reeling back, screeching, “You took off all of the labels?!” 

“You thought I was just gonna let you look through everything and tally up how much this cost me?” He turns and reaches into the bag again, continuing to unpack. “Amateur hour.” 

You bite your lip, watching in silence for a few moments as you think. What sort of 3-D dating chess is this man playing? 

“You are…Frighteningly tactful, Miller.” 

His smile widens, and he seems to duck his head to unearth something from the bulging grocery bag, but you can see the creeping flush of flattering rising up in his cheeks. 

“I can still guestimate, you know,” You warn. 

He stops then, bracing his hands on the counter.

“Would you just let me do something nice for you?” His brows raise, his lips on the edge of pursing in disappointment. You’re stunned into silence as he adds, “Nothing has to be owed. I just…I just wanna make you dinner.” 

You pause before you nod a little. Will’s brows raise further, and you nod again, watching as he turns back toward the bag. You hesitate before nervously sidling up beside him, pressing yourself against his side and eyeing his steady hands. 

“Can I at least help?” You ask. Glancing at him, you find Will’s annoyance smoothed away, replaced with a somewhat serene consideration. He nods, concedes: “A little.” 

--  

Will designates you two things to chop (red and green peppers), and one thing to stir (vegetable stir fry). He keeps his back to you as he adds seasonings to your chicken (“It’s a secret recipe,” He insists before he shoos you away from the counter. All you get a glimpse of is the garlic salt).

You don’t know exactly what he puts on it, but when you take your first bite, it’s perfectly moist, and damn delicious. You don’t even bother to hide your groan, or the way you close your eyes to just savor—and try to work out one or two of the spices. You get hits of chili. Chili and…Cumin? Little pops of cumin—

“I’m not telling you,” Will’s mirthful warning floats across the table to you. Your smile widens, shaking your head and opening your eyes. 

“No idea what you’re talking about, Miller.”

“Uh-huh.” 

“Is this your secret recipe?” 

“My mom’s.” 

“Did she make it a lot growing up?"

“In the summer, mostly, for barbecues and stuff.” 

“Tastes pretty good from the oven.” 

He grunts, nodding. “Better on the grill,” He admits, “With a little char on it.” 

“Mm, noted. Are you and your mom close?” 

Will quirks a brow as he reaches for his drink, and you realize that you’ve been bombarding him with questions. Before you can apologize, he offers: 

“Pretty close. I try to see her at least once a week. It used to be more, but she said I was smothering her.” 

You smile, chuckling. 

“That’s kinda precious.” 

Will shrugs a touch, pushing his veggies around his plate. 

“My dad passed a couple’a years ago and I think coming around as much as I used to might’ve helped, but mom’s got her own life, you know. She’s got a book club…She’s apparently a bingo assassin.” 

“Really?”

“Oh yeah. Some people think she’s cheating.” 

“...Is she?” You tease. 

“I wouldn’t put it past her. What  she lacks in subtlety, she makes up for in sneakiness.” 

“Is that where you and Ben get it?” 

He chuckles, ducking his head and poking at the food on his plate. 

“Some of it, maybe.” 

“And the rest?” 

“Training.” 

“Do you think Ben would agree?"

“Do you always ask this many questions?” 

You lean back, poking at your food in turn and fighting the embarrassed churning in your stomach. 

“Not always,” You mumble. You hear Will huff a soft laugh, and smile as he reaches across the table to take hold of your hand.

"I don't mind," He insists, thumb sweeping along the side of your hand. "Long as I get to ask a few, too."

--

"This was nice," You offer, almost woefully trailing Will to the front door. You've wanted to make a move since he put you to work in your kitchen—you've been thinking about it as the two of you were at your sink, doing the dishes; since you were sitting on your couch, talking about work, and the gym, and who Ben and Terry are facing next. You've been so close so consistently—arm to arm, hip to hip, knee to knee. The tiny touches have made you crave more, and Will's sweet smiles have made you do whatever you can think of to seek them out.

When he'd told you that he ought to get going, that he was meeting Ben in the gym at five the next morning, you were pretty sure that he was telling the truth—but you were already mourning the loss of the moment, and his warmth in your apartment.

"It was...Once you stopped pestering me about paying," He teases as he pulled on his jacket. You rolled your eyes.

"Well, how about I bring a bunch of labeless groceries over to your place, make you dinner, and see how you like it."

"I think I'd like it a lot," He insists, straightening his collar. "How's next week?"

And it's so swift and so smooth that you're certain you look more than a little gobsmacked. But you nod.

"Yeah. I can do next week."

"Friday?"

"Sure."

"Okay." He opens your door. "It's a date."

Just like that—so easy and open, and such a far cry to the first time he spoke to you at the gym.

"Good," You agree, leaning against the wall by your front door. "Let me know when you get home."

"I will." He leans in, and your breath catches in your throat as he presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth. You bite your lip at the gentle prickle of his beard against your skin, eyelids fluttering as Will stays close. He raises his hand, gently sweeping his thumb against your lower lip and tugging it from your teeth.

"Don't do that," He shakes his head. "Don't bite your lip."

"Why?" You mumble, leaning into the flirty urge that's rising in you. "There someone else that's supposed to do it for me?"

Will breathes out a groan, resting his temple gently against yours.

"I'm trying to be good," He warns. You sweep your tongue across your lower lip, letting the tip graze his thumb, and grinning as he swallows thickly.

"This feels good to me." You reach up, cupping his cheek.

"You realize if we do this, you'll be up past 9:30?"

"I'm willing to risk it."

You think for a moment that he'll draw away, that he'll call it—

Your stomach drops as he pulls away and you hear the door shut, but grin as he crowds up against you, lips pressing warmly to yours. You sigh, looping your arm around your shoulders and keeping you close. His hands slide over your hips, drawing you into his chest. You slide your hand up, gently teasing your nails against the nape of his neck.

"Remind me to apologize to Ben the next time I see him," You mumble.

"Why's that?"

"You're going to be very late tomorrow morning."

tag list: @missredherring ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @blueeyesatnight; @amneris21 ; @ew-erin ; @youngkenobilove ; @carbonated-beverage; @moonlightburned ; @milf-trinity ; @millllenniawrites ; @chattychell ; @dihra-vesa​ ; @videogamesandpoorlifechoices​ ; @missswriter ; @thembosapphicclown ; @brandyllyn ; @wildmoonflower ; @buckybarneshairpullingkink ; @mad-girl-without-a-box ; @winchestershiresauce ; @lorecraft ; @kmc1989

[bookofbonbon]

i know yours - aemond targaryen.

pairings: Aemond Targaryen x Reader.

warnings: explicit language. implied sexy times.

summary: people watching with Aemond turns into an interesting conversation.

word count: 470+

gif credit: @vera-kozhemiakina (x)

People watching was something that you often did with your close friend, lover and betrothed Aemond Targaryen. An odd match to most but, the only one Aemond (and you) wanted – quite simply, it was you or no one. Although not ideal, Alicent knew that if she did not grant him this, his wild and wilful nature compounded with his hot temper would result in something she would rather avoid.

Your hair moves in the summer breeze, the cool air blowing in through the open windows and offering some reprieve from the stifling heat as night began to fall. You stood hidden in the shadows with Aemond on the second floor, watching over the festivities as Lord’s and Lady’s became steadily wine drunk.

Watching one Lord in particular, your eyes follow Lord Jason Lannister. Intrigued by his wildly off beat and ridiculous dancing as you lean comfortably against Aemond, his hands braced against the rails on either side of you.

“Lord Jason Lannister is…” you trail off, trying to find the right word.

“A cunt,” Aemond quips without hesitation, recalling previous conversations with the egomaniac.

“Aemond!” you scold quietly, turning in his brace.

“I speak only the truth,” he shrugs.

Rolling your eyes, you let the comment go but, not before remarking sarcastically, “and what would you know about cunts?”

You wait a beat for one of his witty remarks but, it does not come - not right way, at least.

You feel Aemond close the remaining space between the two of you, his body pressing impossibly closer to yours as his breath fans across your ear and cheek - his lips hovering nearby.

“Mm… I don’t know,” he ponders mockingly, a ghost of a smile that you cannot see tugging at the corner of his lips.

“I’d say I know yours pretty well.”

Your eyes go wide, cheeks burning as you press your hand against his mouth with such force that you push him against the opposite wall as your eyes search wildly for any stragglers who may have heard the risqué statement.

“You cannot say such words a loud, someone may hear,” you whisper frantically but not bothering to defend your maidenhood, fingers loosening on his mouth.

“I speak only the truth,” he smirks lightly from behind your fingers, eyes twinkling with mischief but, it's gone as quickly as it comes when you do not smile.

“Hey, I promise you need not worry, my love,” he reassures, seeing the genuine fear in your eyes if people found out about your pre-marital activities. “I would never allow you to be in harm’s way.”

Calm washes over you and your resolve breaks, knowing his words to be true. Shoulders slumping, you lower your hand from his mouth but, he captures it in his own before you can completely drop it. Bringing the tips of your fingers back to his mouth, he presses a gentle kiss against them before laying your hand to rest between his own and over his heart.

-

All fics are my own work - I have not posted my work anywhere else.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters mentioned above.

Do not copy. Do not translate. Do not repost.

bookofbonbon 2022. All rights reserved.

[russos-one]

Not my gif

Look at how cute she is in this gif I actually can’t 🤩

Vivianne Miedema x !Fem!MccabeReader

[I love you so much]

Can’t find the request but I combined it with another one a got hope you don’t mind

Act like Jordan never left and Leah Viv and Beth never got their yk what injured

Act like the car teleported to the stadium idk

Finally finishing this at 3am when I’m supposed to be sleeping

Not proof read cause I’m lazy

Warnings- mention of injury, Viv being the softest gf ever, pure tooth rotting fluff, protective Viv, Protective Katie

Word count- 1.5k+

Summary- Reader gets Injured in a away match against Tottenham and Katie and Viv go into protective mode

——————————————————

Today was the game against Tottenham, unfortunately it was an away game so we had to travel up to The Hive Stadium for the game.

As me and Viv are talking about the game that’s happening in a few hours while walking to the coach Katie yells

“Wait up!” To us as she runs up to me and Viv, she quickly catches up to me and Viv and I say

“Hello Katie” while turning to her

Viv does the same and says “Hi Katie” with a smile on her face god I love her smile. We continue walking to the coach and when we reach it Katie asks

“You guys seen Caitlin?”

“Yeah she’s just behind Stina and Cloe” Viv replies cheerily Katie quickly pushes through us and runs to her girlfriend while we walk up the steps to the coach

Viv turns to me and says “God she’s whipped” while turning back to Katie intently watching Caitlin with a wide smile on her face, I agree with her and we then walk to the back of the coach to sit together while holding hands.

I lean my head on her shoulder and she whispers “You tired baby?” I nod into her neck and she quietly chuckles and says “Go to sleep my Schatje” while running her hands through my hair

3 hours later

“Schatje wake up” Viv says while softly kissing my forehead

“Five more minutes” I mumble while shoving my head further into her neck

“Liefde we have to get off the coach and get ready for the game” I reluctantly get up from my chair. Viv happily grabs my hand and drags me off the coach, as soon as we leave the coach Katie turns around and says

“Keep it PG” while side eyeing me and Viv

“Katie we are literally just holding hands” I said while groaning

“Still, you don’t know what that can lead to” Katie then runs up to catch up with Caitlin

I groan into Viv’s neck and say “God I’m sick of her”

Viv chuckles and says “She’s only joking babe”

“I know but it doesn’t make it any less annoying”

We quickly rush into the stadium and get ready for the game.

30 minutes later

Before the game starts we have to warm up, luckily me and Viv are both starting so we get to warm together with the team.

The trainers inform us that we need to get in to pairs for the drills. The drills consisted of 1 touch passing and crossing balls to eachother along with penalty kicks.

15 minutes later

15 minutes later we are lining up getting ready to walk out for the game.

Viv is standing behind me massaging my shoulders and whispers in my ear “let’s win this baby”

Kim then yells to us “let’s win this ladies!” And then we walk out and line up, we shake hands with the opposing team, take our team photo and then run to our positions. As a midfielder me and Viv link up beautifully, I send her long balls and she skilfully gets through the back line and scores.

The ref blows the whistle which indicates that the game has started. Straight away Caitlin passes the ball to me and I run it foward with my teammates by my side, as I’m about to cross it into the penalty box I get harshly tackled by a Tottenham player which sends me to the ground immediately, as soon as I hit the ground my teammates are by my side, well all but two are. I look down at my ankle and it’s bleeding I look back up and I can see that Viv and Katie are screaming at the ref to give the Tottenham player a card and how it clearly wasn’t a fair tackle.

“You alright y/n?” Leah asks me worriedly

“No, I don’t think I can play anymore. I’m going to have to get subbed off”

As I’m saying this I can hear Katie and Viv in the background, I can’t hear it very well, but by what I did hear both Katie and Viv got a yellow card for foul language and almost getting into a fight with Tottenham.

Kim quickly pulls them away from the ref and the Tottenham players and they quickly run over to me.

Viv and Katie crouch down my side immediately and Viv asks “Are you okay, I’m sorry for not coming here straight away I was just angry”

I reply “Don’t worry about it, I am going to have to get subbed off though. My ankle is killing me”

Katie is still death staring the ref but that doesn’t mean she isn’t listening intently and Viv is just giving me a soft look while rubbing my hand. Katie quickly kisses my head and Viv kisses my hand while Stina singles to Jonas we need to sub me off. Viv and Katie help me off the pitch and then they get back into there positions and Victoria Pelova takes my place.

I get escorted to the medical room by the medics, luckily it has a tv so I can still watch the game while the doctors check up on me. After some check ups and tests the doctors inform me that nothing serious is wrong with my ankle and I should just rest it for 2 weeks with ice.

As I’m watching the tv with the game on it I see Viv score and absolute banger of a goal and as her celebration she blows a kiss towards the camera which brings a smile to my face.

25 minutes later

25 Minutes later it’s half time and Arsenal is up by 3.

Viv and Katie quickly come into the medical room and rush to my side, Viv on my left and Katie on my right instantly Vivs hands grab my own and Katie is rubbing my leg asking if I’m okay and what the doctors said.

“The doctors said I’m okay and it’s nothing to serious I just have to rest if for 2 weeks and ice it twice a day to reduce inflammation and I have to strap it”

“That’s good, we are glad that your okay” Katie replies while smiling at me while still rubbing my leg softly.

Viv then says “Did they say you can walk?”

“Yes”

“No”

“Wait what do you mean no? The doctors said I could and just not to put to much pressure on it”

“No, I’m carrying you everywhere”

Katie just looks at me and Viv and laughs while saying “yeah I agree with Viv, your not allowed to walk anymore. Don’t want to injure yourself even more”

“Wha- I- how is that fair? The doctors said I could and they are professionals. I don’t think you two are professionals are you?”

Before the two could retaliate Leah comes in to inform us that the game starts again in 10 minutes and they need to discuss tactics

Before I could say anything Viv kisses me on the head and mumbles a “Goodbye, love you see you in a bit” while Katie just messes up my hair and walks away with Viv and Leah

I lay back on the medical bed and sigh and pull out my phone to inform my parents about my injury and I’m totally not searching up Vivianne miedema edits on tiktok instead of texting my parents

13 minutes later and Viv scores another banger of a goal and not even 2 minutes later Steph chips the ball over the keepers head and scores which makes Arsenal up by 5 to 0

30 minutes later

The game has finished and arsenal have won 7 to 0 a hat trick by the one and only Vivianne Miedema a chip by Catley an absolute banger from McCabe scoring from just over halfway in the oppositions side along with Kim little scoring a penalty due to a handball and a wonderful stoppage time goal by Caitlin Foord.

Before I can even process it the whole team comes into the medical room dancing and singing and all I can do is just sit there laughing and enjoying my time with my Arsenal family, after a bit it dies down and Jordan quickly asks

“Y/n are you going to be okay?”

“Yeah I’m going to be oka-”

Before I can finish my sentence Viv quickly cuts in and says “No she isn’t she’s going to be bed ridden and is not leaving the house for a month”

“Excuse me what? I’m not leaving the house for a month? Your actually joking? You can’t be serious”

“Just taking precautions baby” Viv says while looking at me cheerily and all I can’t do is just groan and lean further into the medical bed

“Someone’s a bit grumpy”

“Shut up McCard”

“Rude”

While me and my sister are arguing I don’t realise it but she leaves and comes back with a wheelchair and I’m brought out of my argument with my sister when I realise what Viv has in her grasp, Katie pisses herself laughing and so do the rest of the girls.

“Okay darling let’s go”

“Viv please, are you joking? I dont Need a wheelchair. Your acting like my leg got amputated or something” all the girls still continue laughing

“It’s not funny, i don’t know why your all laughing right now”

Viv brings the wheelchair next to your bed with a wide smile “Viv please tell me your joking right now, I don’t need a wheelchair” the girls exit the room getting ready to leave to go home.

Viv picks me up from under my thighs and whispers in my ear “let’s go baby” and puts my in the wheelchair and pushes the door to the exit of the medical room open and we leave together heading for the exit of the stadium to the car.

Viv quickly unlocks the car, picks me up from the wheelchair and plops me into the passenger sit of the car and puts the wheelchair in the trunk and she then goes to her side if the car to start it.

“You ready to go baby?” Viv asks cheerily

“Yeah, let’s go”

Viv starts the car and immediately puts one hand on my thigh and for the rest of the ride that is where her hand stays.

After a while I fall asleep knowing it’s going to be a long ride and we will get there in an hour or two

2 hours later

“N/n, it’s time to wake up. We are home” Viv whispers in my ear while softly shaking me. I slowly open my eyes and let them adjust to the lighting of the car.

Viv unbuckles her seatbelt, turns off the car and opens her door and comes to my side of the car to open my door and undoes my seatbelt and picks me up from under my thighs, I quickly shove my head further into her neck and whisper

“I’m tired” sleepily. She quickly locks the car while whispering in my head “I know my darling” and walks is to the front door of our house and unlocks it. She pushes the door open with her foot walks in our home and closes the door behind her. She places me on the couch I groan and she says

“I’ll be back in 2 minutes baby I’m gonna run a bath for you” while running her fingers through my hair.

She quickly goes up stairs and starts a bath for me and quickly comes back to take me to the bath.

She places me on the bench next to the sink and gives me a kiss on my forehead and I smile contently.

She take off my shoes along with my socks and the rest of my clothes and makes sure the bath is warm before she places me inside.

She picks me up and places me in the bath and washes my body and my hair, after a while she takes me out and dries me off with a towel, dries my hair and dresses me. She then brings me to the bed and gives me a kiss on the cheek and says

“I’ll be back in 15 minutes love, I just have to have a shower” I groan and reply “hurry up, I want my cuddles” grumpily.

She chuckles and grabs her clothes from our shared closet and enters our bathroom to shower.

She emerges 17 minutes later with fresh clothes and freshly washed hair.

Viv walks over to our shared bed, lifts up the blankets and lays down next to me I instantly lean into her and whisper “you lied”

“About what love?” She asks in a concerned way

“You took longer then 15 minutes. Liar” Viv just chuckles and runs her hair through my hair once again and says

“How can I make it up to you my love”

“You have to give me a kiss and then I’ll maybe forgive you if the kiss is good enough” I reply smugly

She lifts up my head from my chin and slowly leans into bringing her lips to my own she kisses ne slow and sensually. Unfortunately after a while we have to part for air

“Was that good enough my love” I lean myself into her neck while she chuckles I whisper

“Yes, it was perfect”

“Good, only the best for you my love”

I sigh and whisper “goodnight, I love you so much”

“I love you too baby, more then you’ll ever know”

We then fall asleep peacefully together dreaming of eachother.

[undercoverpena]

comfort came against my will

gif credit to @perotovar

joel miller x f!reader summary: it’ll begin with a little beg, a whispered plea—fingers wrapping around his chin, mouth ghosting over his: Let me ride you, Miller.

word count: 1.8k warnings: smut, p in v, jo's spelling and poetic nature. dedication: happy birthday to my friend, @swiftispunk - i know you love Joel, and i hope you love this. special thanks to @perotovar for letting me use their beautiful GIF that inspired half of my imagery, if not all of it.

There’s something about heavy rainfall.

The way it’s cleansing, renewing—almost reinvigorating, depending on when the last time it fell.

Joel found that the only downside is the scent it leaves behind.

Once, a long time ago, it used to leave behind a smell that others wished to bottle—a wish to burn it in candles or hang cheap versions from their car’s centre mirror in haphazardly cut-out trees.

Now, it has an aroma that reminds him of death. A stench which has dug itself into the hairs in his nose, unwilling to let go—clinging, desperate not to be forgotten.

But, you like the rain.

He'll always find you near the window when it pours, eyes tracing the droplets. Your chair purposefully, and with all intentions, pointing to the muck-covered window. Nothing more perfect, you’d murmur—fingers wrapped around one of the crystal glasses the two of you discovered on a run, pressing it to your cheek, off-coloured liquid sloshing as you sigh.

He’s pretty sure he could name a few other things more perfect than rain, but he does find it hard to argue that it isn't the most perfect soundtrack when your thighs are on either side of him.

Especially when the weather is like this. Where a flash of lightning can illuminate you, casting you in a brief spotlight that kisses over your curves and the evidence of your survival.

Tonight, it begins with you draining your glass, turning your head, eyes shimmering as you move from your place, coming to join him on the bed.

Your fingers, both a little rough and soft, wrap around his chin, before a little beg, a whispered plea fills the air—mouth ghosting over his: Let me ride you, Miller.

He couldn’t argue, would never protest. But, your mouth stealing any words he wishes to say. Because he likes having you under him—pinned, close, unable to look anywhere but directly at him. For when you stare, you make everything else pale in comparison. Made the world around mute, it all fading to nought.

You do so with ease, with a single look. One he imagines has always been there, all very much you, even if the state of things has tried to steal it away. He can easily imagine a younger you modelling it, one without the stress lines of living, it all softer, gentler.

Joel doesn’t mind that isn't the case now. He doesn't care for gentle or soft. He likes how sharp you are, that you can cut, wound and make him bleed. He enjoys that, even if he doesn’t deserve anything from you, you stand side-by-side with him, choosing him—wanting and needing, all raised brow with a smirk to match.

If you listen, the rain is telling us something.

You're close to his ear as you mumble it, lips ghosting down his cheek before a clap of thunder steals the phantoms of your whispered echo.

His hands fan over your hips, pushing up one of his tees that you're wearing, sliding it up with his thumbs—feeling how your skin moves, shifts, lengthening over your muscles and bones. His mind busy, occupied, only thinking about how beautiful you are, even when drenched in darkness.

How you’re all untouched except the few scars, the nips and scratches left by those who wished to end you, but found that you weren’t so easy to dispose of.

Joel knows that you’re vicious, all sharp teeth and a menace with a knife many shouldn’t ever want to meet in a dark alley, not that the world has cottoned on. Each try, each fail. He often watches, in awe, pleased, because you're like him. So smooth in the way you're prepared to split someone open, coat your boots in their ichor as the rest of them spill out. Leaving him, often, battling his feelings at the sight.

But while he knows that side of you, Joel also knows the other you.

The one who still believes the rain is romantic. A soul who wishes for a pretty print on a dress, even if you'll only wear it in the four walls of the place you two share. Modelling it for him, dipping your toe into a fantasy with him. You also like the little things, such as a pair of matching glasses, enjoying that they belong together, a metaphor for something you clearly desperately crave.

If he were an honest man, one not ripped to shreds and put together all wrong, he’d tell you you’re a more perfect sight than rain. Not just when you’re sitting on top of him or when you’re under him; not just when you’re panting, venom in your eyes and splattered with cherry-red. But, when you’re just beside him.

Breathing, existing, sleeping.

He’d tell you that you’re an image perfectly cut out of an old version of his happy ever after, slapped down and glued beside him now, even when he’s all tragedy and tragic. That your darkness dances with his faultlessly—making him less alone.

That for you, he’d want to be better, which included letting you go—even if you’re pulling him close—because a man such as him, with hands stained and scarred with horrors, shouldn’t get to touch smeared perfection. That you’re not really poisoned or rotten, just living, fighting—claws digging into the soil, all desperate for another moment.

It’s why he lets you have your fun, and then he flips you under him, palm to your cheek, stare burning into yours.

What’s it tryin’ to tell us? The rain.

You fit him inside of you perfectly—just like you’ve fitted yourself in his space. You’re all knotted around him, heat warm—inviting. Your thighs pressing close, legs crossing behind him, aiding, helping.

Not because you don’t think he’d get you there, but because you’re conscientious, caring—it appears in smaller gestures others wouldn’t notice, but he sees them. Bottles them. Keep them close when you’re not beside him.

Not that he shows it.

Unsure once again, for the billionth time since you stood beside him (and never left), what you see in him—what you think he can give you. Because he’s old, worn, somewhat broken beyond repair—not that it stops you from trying.

“More, Joel. Please.”

You don’t call him pet names, but he hears them in the silence.

They quiver and talk in hushed voices in the kitchen that is covered in grime and not fit for a beauty such as yourself. Some even sprout on his tongue, a fresh seedling, all untouched and unruined—not yet weeded from his throat.

He finds it harder to not let them fall when you sound as pretty as you do. When your nails press half-moons into his skin, leaving a tale of your own in his forearms and biceps, meeting him with everything you have as your walls tighten, delightfully, a match made in hell—because heaven would never allow him. Or you now, he supposes.

It’s why his thumb slides between the two of you, licked with his spit, mixing with the slick against your swollen clit. You gasp, spraying sweetness around the air that's heavy-layered with sex.

He’s forever starving, never quenched—a need for you that runs deeper than mere living and existing. Not ever able to purge you from his system, never wanting to either. Because you’re entangled with him, rooted, anchored inside of him so you can bob along and never go under.

Not that he’d let you.

Joel would never.

His hips punctuate that sentiment. Wanting you to know it, driving them in, so the words don’t go in one ear and out the other. He aims to stamp them in you, fuck them so deep into you you’ll never forget. The sound of skin on skin, groan and grunt, all filling the space, evidence of his determination, swirling around your returning breath, still moaning, murmuring—all scratchy and rough.

“—Let go, Joel. Fill me.”

It rips from him, your name.

Each letter is important, each sound giving the attention it deserves as it coats the air—mouth finding the space between your ear and neck, kissing, teeth nipping.

“Stuff me full.”

The rain hammers heavier, beating its fists against the glass as though it’ll only calm when he does as you’ve asked. As though you and nature are tied together, bonded—the real pairing made in paradise.

It’s then your lips find his, sloppy, messy, all uncoordinated. He can taste the bitterness of your drink on your tongue and the pleasure he’d given you. His mouth lapping it up, licking into yours, tongue far past your teeth as he grips you a little tighter, ruts into you a little deeper—as if hoping there’s more of you to explore, more vastness he can leave a mark on.

It's muffled, but you cut the air with his name as if your tongue is a blade. Your body tightens, mouth ripped from his as you bare your throat, chin lifted, eyes closed as it washes over you and your walls become a vice, hugging his cock in a way no one else ever has.

He's close.

So close.

Another flash, it all bright, exposing the sweat collected on your skin, the path it has made between your breastbone, the way your body looks under him.

Then it’s electric, ripping through him as he stains, writing you’re his all in thick ropes of white—his hips stuttering, slowing, riding it out what it is you do to him. It’s a feeling akin to being folded inside out and then put back again—making his muscles tense and relax, his bones forget they ache, as his throat burns with the force of his exclamation.

It’s minutes, little seconds clumping up until an expanse of time collects, and he’s ready to leave the space between your thighs.

Your eyes on him, all unwavering, mapping his features as though you’re an artist, ready to make him into a sculpture.

He doesn’t tell you to stop, he's learnt his lesson from doing as such—eyes ablaze, full of molten, words sharp as ice, all a twisted juxtaposition as you lay into him all the ways you were, are and am enamoured by him.

He’s sure his list is longer, but he swallowed that, too.

Joel had just nodded, left you angry for half an evening until his arms wrapped around you, and he felt you melt, less lava and more a candle-lit flame licking at him until he took you to bed.

Even if a scrap of time has passed since then, Joel is still no closer to finding himself comfortable with the look—the one he suspects comes with words. Ones you don’t thankfully spill, but ones he would mean just as much if he really asked himself.

It isn’t until you tap him, that he moves. You’re more nimble, quicker on your feet to fetch a rag to clean yourself and then him. Each touch delicate, your stare concentrated before the cloth is cast to some corner—a thing you’ll move and clean tomorrow.

And then, you’re beside him, finding the place you usually choose—all intentional, willingly given—as his arm finds itself around you. A flash of lightning displaying the two of your shadows pressed together, merged in ways the two of your souls are.

Swallowing, he finds your stare is back on the window, the world outside painting its own version of a masterpiece.

“Y’never said what the rain’s telling us.”

You smile, before you lift up your chin, looking at him through your brows. “Just stories. The rain likes to tell stories.”

an: ily, han.