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writeforfandoms · 7 months

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Listening In 4

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Well, here we are. The end of this little series. This took me a lot longer to finish than I originally planned, and I apologize for that. I hope the tooth rotting fluff makes up for it.

Warnings: Fluff, cavity inducing sweetness, Feels, idiots in love, piv sex, dirty talk, and they lived happily ever after.

Word count: 4.6k

Soap and Ghost made it back to the 141 safely, and Price congratulated them on a job well done.

Life moved on. There was always another op.

But Soap kept thinking back to that op. To their little waitress.

And she most certainly was theirs, now. Just thinking about the way she'd whimpered under him was enough to get Soap riled up.

Soap texted her as often as he could, which was almost daily. Ghost, he knew, didn't text nearly as much.

But when he did… well. When Ghost wanted to, he was a right bastard.

Like the time he sent their waitress an audio recording of the two of them. That was well worth it.

Of course, it wasn't just audio recordings and the occasional video call.

Soap managed to detour to see their waitress for half a day on the way back from an op. Ghost, lucky bastard, had an entirely accidental two day layover, most of which was spent in her bed. And that wasn't all of it - the two found themselves stopping by to see her as often as possible.

It wasn't until Soap and Ghost had leave together and arranged to go see her again for a whole week that either of them thought more of it.

"Hey, Si?"

Simon grunted, cracking open one eye above his plain medical mask. That was the more plane-friendly look.

"Think we're a bit looney."

Simon barked a laugh, closing his eyes again. "Just now figuring that out?" He drawled, amused.

Johnny huffed with quiet laughter. "Maybe," he admitted. Simon's lack of distress helped put him at ease, though.

Soon, they'd be off the plane. And then they could surprise their pretty little waitress.

They had a lot of ideas they wanted to try out, after all.

–

You'd had an awful day. An opening shift rife with assholes and a few too many pinches. You were tired, achey, aggravated.

Honestly, you wanted to go home and cry and ignore the rest of the world for a while.

So when your phone rang, you almost ignored it without even checking it. Almost.

“Johnny?” you scrambled to answer it as soon as you saw who was calling. “What’s up?”

“Got a bit of a surprise for ye, gorgeous.” Johnny sounded far too pleased.

“Yeah?” You dodged an idiot who wasn’t watching where he was going, huffing softly. “And what’s that?”

“You at home?”

You didn’t quite startle at the question, but you did pause. “Not yet,” you said slowly. “Heading there, though. What did you do?”

Johnny laughed. “So little faith! It’s a good thing, promise.”

You shook your head. “Alright, if you say so. Do I need to check my mailbox or something?”

“Not exactly,” he hedged. “Ye’ll see soon, promise.”

You sighed but gave up. “Alright, sure. I need to go, it’s crowded out here today.”

“Okay. Get home safe.” Johnny paused there for a moment, like he wanted to say more, but he didn’t.

“Will do,” you agreed and hung up. A little abrupt, maybe, but you were tired. You didn’t have your normal energy for his silliness.

The walk home was too loud and too crowded, with people jostling into you. You were so tired and so done you wanted to cry by the time you finally got into the elevator.

The elevator opened onto your floor and you got three trudging steps off before you halted.

Johnny and Simon stood outside your door, facing you. Johnny was grinning, bright and a little mischievous.

You didn't let them say anything. You just walked straight into Johnny, winding your arms around him and hiding your face against his chest.

"Hey, gorgeous," Johnny cooed, one big hand rubbing your back soothingly. "Happy to see us?"

"Yeah," you agreed softly. "Also fucking tired."

"Long day?" His voice softened with sympathy.

Your laugh was dry and a little too close to tears. "Could say that."

Johnny hummed in wordless concern, holding you closer and pressing his cheek to the top of your head. "Poor gorgeous," he murmured. "C'mon, let's head inside, aye?"

You breathed in deep and let go of him, grabbing your keys. Simon plucked them from you, and you blinked. But moments later you were all inside.

Simon guided you to the couch and pushed you down to sit. You blinked at him, startled. He just motioned you to wait while he brought water.

"What's goin' on?" Johnny dropped down next to you, pulling you into his side with an arm around your shoulders.

You blew out a breath, shoulders dropping. "Just life stuff," you dismissed, or tried to. "Nothing like your shit." They'd told you some, a little, mostly that they were military and had unpredictable schedules. You didn't blame them, not at all, and it explained the odd absences.

"Tell us anyway." Johnny gave you a gentle little shake, eyes warm and focused on you.

Simon dropped down on your other side, setting water on the table in front of you, leaving you nowhere to run. Of course. These two were practiced, moving in an easy tandem in and out of the bedroom. Which they often used against you. Like right now.

You huffed, half exasperated and half amused. "Just. Work sucked today. Few too many shitty people."

"And?" Simon drawled, knowing that wasn't the end of it. You'd ranted to him about work and handsy guys before.

"And my rent is going up," you finally admitted on a sigh. "It's just enough that I'm thinking of moving or downgrading."

Johnny hummed soft sympathy, pulling you closer. "Job hunt hasn't turned up anything?"

"Not yet." You made a face. "It's just frustrating, that's all. I'll get through it."

"We'll come back to that." Johnny pressed a kiss to the side of your head, easy and affectionate as ever. "What's yer schedule, gorgeous?"

You blinked, thrown off a bit by the question. "Tomorrow I'm off, the next two days I have closing shifts, then two mid shifts, then two more days off," you said after a moment of thought. "Not sure beyond that. Why?"

"Well, we've got a week," Johnny said, grinning at you. "Was hopin' to spend a good bit of that with ye."

"You… are far too sweet." You smiled, relaxing between the two of them. "Next you're gonna say you've got a better idea about my job and apartment situation."

Silence. Damning silence. You turned slowly to look at Johnny, who was busy looking anywhere but you. Simon scoffed softly.

"You'd think he'd have learned to lie by now," Simon added conversationally, one big hand landing on your thigh.

"Ah can lie!" Johnny immediately defended himself. "Just. Not to. Well. The two o' ye."

Your heart swelled at being so blatantly lumped in with Simon, your shock plain to see. Oh, sure, you knew these two liked you - they kept visiting you, after all.

But this was something totally different.

"Nope," you decided. "We are tabling that because I cannot be a rational person right now."

Simon leaned closer to your back, his bulk bleeding warmth into the scant space between you. "Don't be rational, then," he murmured. "What're you thinking, dove?"

"Very non-feminist thoughts," you drawled, shivering briefly as Simon pressed even closer.

"Tell us." Simon scooted forward, slowly but inexorably pressing you closer to Johnny, who looked more than willing.

You groaned softly. Simon had a way of getting you to admit to things you wouldn't otherwise, something you both loved and hated. "Really?"

"Be a good girl for me." He was so close now you could feel his mask just brush the shell of your ear.

"Not fair," you complained weakly, swallowing hard. But Simon squeezed your thigh and you folded. "I was thinking I'd let you both whisk me away anywhere you wanted." You ducked your head to hide in Johnny's chest, flustered.

"There's our sweet girl," Johnny cooed, immediately pulling you closer, until you were sort of situated on his lap.

"We'll discuss that tomorrow," Simon murmured, pressing in against your back again until you were sandwiched in warmth. "We have time."

You huffed but didn't object, just relaxing between them. You were warm, you were tired, and they were very comforting. Honestly, you were tempted to just sleep between them.

"Have you eaten yet?" Simon asked, thumb rubbing your thigh slowly.

"No," you admitted, grumpy because you knew that meant he'd move.

Simon huffed a little laugh. At your attitude, undoubtedly. "We'll take care of dinner," he assured you. "You want anything in particular?"

"Don't really care," you admitted, covering his hand with yours to link your fingers through his.

"Don't fall asleep on us yet, gorgeous," Johnny huffed with amusement.

"Shut up," you grumbled, nestling in closer and relaxing. "Comfortable."

They both laughed quietly, but neither of them moved, letting you soak in the comfort you so needed.

If they kept this up, you'd do anything for them.

Finally, you released them both and squirmed away, because otherwise you really would fall asleep. And that would be bad.

Simon took charge of dinner, as promised, and you didn't have to do a thing. Johnny "helped" you change into more comfortable clothes (here meaning he shamelessly ogled you and got a little hands-on but you didn't let him totally derail you).

Simon even folded his mask up just over his nose to eat with you and Johnny, which was still new enough to be thrilling, even though it wasn't the first time.

It was very comfortable, being so domestic with them. It really was strange - you hadn't known them long, not in the overall scheme of things, but you were so comfortable with them.

Sometimes you wondered about impossible things. Dinners at dining tables and breakfasts in bed and exhausting yourself with the two of them.

"Gorgeous?" Johnny touched your hand, frowning a little.

You blinked rapidly and looked at him. "Hm?"

"Where'd ye go?" He gently closed his fingers over your hand, ducking his head a little to hold your gaze.

You smiled and shook your head. "Just thinking. Sorry. Been a long day."

The two exchanged a quick look, a world of communication in that one look. It almost made you ache to think about how long they'd been together, to have such wordless communication.

"Do ye want us here tonight?" Johnny asked, squeezing your hand gently. "Or should we go back to our hotel?"

"Stay." Your heart lurched. You'd blurted that out too fast, too earnest. Revealed too much.

But Johnny just grinned, like he'd been hoping for that. Even Simon quirked a half smile.

"Good!" Johnny leaned close to smack an intentionally loud kiss to your cheek, just to make you laugh. "Wanna watch a movie?"

And back you settled into the simple domestic bliss, letting them squish you between them on your couch, laughing at their antics, comforted by their warmth. Neither one made a move for more, both accepting easy kisses from you.

It didn't occur to you until you were settled in bed between them, Johnny already clinging to your front while Simon curled like a shield between your back and the rest of the world, that you'd do anything to keep this.

Simon was already up when you woke, Johnny taking a well-deserved lie-in with you. Breakfast was easy, relaxed.

But you remembered the promise to talk about your current situation today. Honestly, you'd rather get it over with sooner than later, or your anxiety would be out of control.

"So," you started as you washed the dishes. Johnny was drying while Simon put everything away. (And the fact that he knew without having to ask inspired feelings that you tucked away to be examined later.) "Sounded like you two had a plan for dealing with my woes."

Johnny snorted. "Something like that," he agreed.

"Had an idea," Simon corrected without looking at either of you.

"Alright, let's hear it." You glanced at them both, undeniably curious.

Johnny breathed in slowly. "Well," he started slowly. "Was thinkin' we could help ye find a place. Closer to us. If ye wanted."

"Closer to you?" You looked between the two, the dish in your hands all but forgotten. "Like, England?"

"If you want." Simon spoke quietly, finally looking at you, gaze assessing.

You nodded slowly, letting the idea sit as you scrubbed at a pan. That would be a big move for you. Very different. You didn't even know if you'd be able to find a job there, or how you'd find a job. How expensive would it be to move?

Although, really, considering how you felt about these two… maybe it was time to have another talk, too.

"I have questions first."

"'Course," Johnny murmured, his foot nudging into yours as he looked at you earnestly.

You licked your lips, debating how to proceed. Because, really, you were pretty sure you could figure out the rest of it, depending on one factor.

"Why?" You handed off the pan to Johnny and grabbed an extra towel to dry your hands. "Is this just, like, a convenience thing for you two? Or is this something more?"

Johnny blew out a breath. "Cut right to the heart of things," he muttered, a little wry. "It's not for convenience."

You didn't move, still watching him, towel held tightly in your hands, all but forgotten. "Johnny, please."

Johnny dropped his head for a moment before glancing at Simon. Simon shook his head a little, just once. Johnny swallowed, Adam's apple bobbing, and then nodded.

"Truth is, gorgeous, we wanna see ye more. All the time, if we could. We like ye. More'n we should, prob'ly. And…"

You breathed in slowly, leaning closer to him. "Johnny."

He blinked at you, setting the pan down.

"You're absolutely daft if you think I'd have let you both keep coming back if I didn't care for you deeply already." You quirked a little smile, the words coming easier now that you'd seen him near fumbling his own words.

Johnny blinked and slowly lit up, stepping right into your space. "Yeah?"

"Yes," you confirmed, amused. "Honestly. Simon knew, didn't you?"

But when you looked at him, Simon simply looked away.

You blinked, flabbergasted, jaw dropping. And then you started laughing, completely unable to stop yourself. At the near-twin disgruntled looks, you flapped a hand, trying to stifle your laughter long enough to explain.

"I've been completely gone on you two for months," you managed. "And none of us was smart enough to know it." You promptly devolved again, hand over your mouth.

They both froze completely, going quite still. Then Johnny grabbed you with a laugh, yanking your hands away from your face to kiss you thoroughly. No sooner had he released you than Simon grabbed you, mask pulled up so he could kiss the breath out of you.

Panting, you finally pulled away from him too, looking at the both of them as the enormity of what you'd said and how they'd reacted hit you.

Clearly you weren't the only one attached here.

You curled a hand into Simon's shirt, your free hand taking Johnny's wrist as you towed them both to the couch. (Only because they let you but you'd take it.)

"Tell me more about your idea." You pushed Simon down to sit on the couch and settled yourself in his lap, knees on either side of his hips. Johnny pressed up against your back, hands at your hips.

"We'd help ye find a job," Johnny murmured into your ear, squeezing your hips. "Get ye all settled."

"Doesn't have to be a flat," Simon rumbled, hands big and warm on your sides, thumbs rubbing the skin just under your breasts.

"Could do a house," Johnny agreed immediately, nipping the shell of your ear. "Big enough for the three of us."

You sucked in a breath, biting your lip. Oh now that was temptation. "Somewhere to stay during your time off?" You rolled your hips down into Simon's lap and grinned when his grip immediately tightened on you.

"And someone to come home to." Johnny bit your neck gently, humming in satisfaction at your little noise.

"Fuck." You rolled your hips again, biting your lip. "If you're not serious about this–"

"We are." Simon bumped his hips up into yours, letting you feel the growing hardness there. "Very serious."

"Give us the word, and we'll do it." Johnny nipped down your neck to your shoulder, hands still on your hips moving you to a slow, steady rhythm against Simon.

You shuddered, grinding down harder. "Let's do it," you agreed, a little breathless. "Please."

Johnny groaned softly and pressed you down harder into Simon, biting down gently on the back of your shoulder. Simon rucked your sleep shirt up and quickly pulled it off, his hands settling against your skin.

Any other time, you might tease them about how fast clothes vanished, but right now? You didn’t say a word. Partially because Johnny had tipped your head back to kiss you while Simon took over guiding your hips against his, the feeling more intense now without barriers between you two.

“Johnny,” Simon grunted, fingers tightening.

Johnny hummed into the kiss before he pulled back, eyes already gone dark with desire. “Mm?”

“Duffel bag,” was all Simon said, but Johnny seemed to understand, because he disentangled himself and stepped away.

“Really?” you half-whined, pouting at Simon. You’d been enjoying being between the two of them, dammit.

Simon had the gall to chuckle at you, one hand cupping your cheek and bringing you closer. “Just getting some supplies,” he murmured, soft and soothing. “Won’t take him a minute, dove.”

He was proven right by Johnny coming up behind you again, pressing his front to your back and dropping a condom into Simon’s hand. You warmed and ducked your head, a little embarrassed you’d forgotten about that.

“C’mere, gorgeous,” Johnny cooed in your ear, arms wrapping tight around your waist and pulling you back into his warmth. And subsequently giving Simon the space he needed to put on the condom. “Gonna let me fuck ye after, gorgeous?”

“You want to?” You didn’t look away from Simon, though, watching his hands settle on your thighs.

“Oh, aye,” Johnny agreed, low and rough. “Very much.”

You hummed softly, running your fingers over his arm still around your waist. “After, then.”

Johnny nipped the back of your shoulder and moved the two of you forward, guiding your hips up. Simon simply watched, one big hand on your thigh.

“Ready for me, dove?” Simon watched you closely, fingers rubbing against your skin.

“More than.” You started to sink down slowly, only for Johnny to tsk and guide you, controlling the pace. You swallowed hard, not entirely sure why that was so exciting… but it very much was.

“Look at you, gorgeous,” Johnny murmured once you were settled fully against Simon’s lap, hands clenched on his shoulders. “So pretty for us.”

You huffed softly at him, wiggling a little, getting used to the stretch of Simon in you. His hands smoothed up your sides to your breasts, thumbs rubbing back and forth over your nipples.

When you moved, Johnny quickly took control again, hands moving you to a rhythm he liked. Simon seemed content to let Johnny move you, head tilted back against the couch as he watched you with dark eyes, still gently teasing you. Heat built between the three of you, and you tipped your head back onto Johnny’s shoulder.

“Johnny…” You whined, just a little, trying to move faster. Johnny didn’t allow you.

“Hm? Somethin’ ye want, gorgeous?” he teased, teeth grazing the shell of your ear.

“More? Please?” Your breath caught in your throat when he bit down gently, hands tightening on you.

“What d’ye think, Si?” Johnny asked, low and teasing. “Think she’s earned it?”

“Johnny,” Simon growled, hips finally stuttering up into yours, “if you don’t, I will. And I’ll keep her.”

Johnny laughed quietly but moved you faster, until you were gasping and shivering between the two. Your hands roamed restlessly over Simon, trying to make him feel as good as you felt. Your thighs trembled, back arching.

A second set of hands joined Johnny’s at your hips, their fingers intertwining, before Simon tightened his grip and held you still. You lifted your head, confused, only for him to lift his hips up into you instead. Your lips parted, jaw dropping, eyes going hazy with pleasure.

“C’mon, gorgeous,” Johnny goaded softly in your ear. “Make a mess of him for me.”

A few more hard thrusts from Simon and you did just that, whimpering through the rolling pleasure of your orgasm.

Simon didn’t even slow down, fingers tight on your hips, chasing his own pleasure now. Your overstimulated whines only spurred him on until you leaned forward, hiding your face in the crook of his neck.

And bit down.

He swore as he came, hips stuttering, grip almost punishingly tight. He finally stilled against you, grip slowly relaxing.

“Fuckin’ beautiful,” Johnny murmured, carefully moving one hand to rub a hand up and down your back. “Both of ye.”

You huffed against Simon’s neck, an action he mirrored. You grinned, amused, and relaxed between the two for the moment.

“Still alright, gorgeous?” Johnny asked after a few moments, hand lingering at the nape of your neck.

“Haven’t forgotten you,” you assured him, sitting up again, despite the way your legs shook. “How do you…?”

Simon hummed softly, moving slowly to give you time to move with him. He situated himself longways on the couch, your knees on either side of him, one of his legs on the floor to make more room.

“I’ve got you, dove,” he murmured, taking hold of your hands and linking your fingers together. The couch dipped behind you as Johnny moved too, giving your back one more soothing stroke before there was a rip of foil.

“Could get used to this,” Johnny murmured, only half-teasing, pressing against your back. “Quite a view from here.”

“I’m sure you’ll get to see more like it,” you agreed. “After we figure out the move.”

Johnny groaned softly at the reminder. “Fuckin’ temptress, you are,” he muttered, one hand on your hip holding you steady as he slid into you. He wasn’t quite the same stretch as Simon, but he still felt divine.

He didn’t give you slow, though. He started moving hard, startling a little yelp out of you.

“Easy, dove,” Simon murmured, sweet in contrast to Johnny. “Hold on to me, yeah?”

You could do nothing but obey, holding tight to Simon’s hands even as Johnny slid one hand up to your back to the nape of your neck, gently pushing you down until your chest pressed to Simon’s.

“Doin’ so well, dove,” Simon rumbled, squeezing your hands gently. “He feel good?”

“Yes,” you managed on a gasp, as Johnny drove harder into you, hitting somehow deeper. “Fuck!”

Johnny groaned, hand squeezing your nape. “Beautiful,” he muttered again, almost worshipful. “What d’ye need, gorgeous?”

You nearly choked when Johnny did something that hit a spot that sent sparks all through you. And then he hit it again. And again. Until you needed Simon’s support, moving as best you could with Johnny, making too many noises. Johnny was little better behind you, swearing softly but vehemently.

“Close, dove?” Simon asked, eyes bright as he watched you. “Need a little more, hm?” He released one hand, sliding it down between the two of you. Two gentle fingers circled your clit and you whined, shaking. “Good fucking girl.”

You were gone. That was all it took. You shook apart between the two of them, briefly unaware of anything beyond the burning, rolling pleasure.

You slumped fully against Simon, panting, shivering still. Johnny followed close behind you, muffling his whines against the back of your shoulder, hips pressed flush to yours. He didn’t back off when he was done, staying pressed against you so the three of you were a sweaty heap.

“Up, Johnny,” Simon finally ordered, both hands now soothing up and down your sides.

Johnny groaned theatrically but got up, pressing one last kiss to the nape of your neck.

“Think you can get up?” Simon asked softly. “Or do you need a minute longer?”

You puffed out your cheeks. “Let’s find out.” You stood carefully, letting him hold one of your hands to help keep you steady. Your knees wobbled but held, at least long enough to get you to the bathroom.

Simon herded you back to bed, where water waited for all three of you, a laptop already set up with a movie. You smiled, both touched and amused at his thoughtfulness.

“I vote we do nothing the rest of the day,” you muttered, crawling into bed.

“Nothing?” Johnny asked, moving over you to box you between himself and Simon. “At all?” He pouted at you, over the top.

“Well, maybe a little something,” you gave in with an easy grin, cuddling between the two of them. “After we’ve rehydrated a bit.”

“Smart woman.” Simon settled against you, relaxed. “We’ve still got days, dove.”

The reminder made you smile, an entirely different kind of warmth bubbling away in your chest. “Yes, we do.”

–

Johnny stood at the end of the terminal, anxiously shifting his weight from foot to foot. Next to him, Simon was still as stone, gaze fixed on the steady flow of people coming out of the terminal.

Johnny checked his phone again, unable to help himself. It had been two whole minutes since he'd last checked. Still no new update from you.

Not that he was entirely surprised. You'd had a long flight, had to gather your things.

Well. Some of your things. The rest were being shipped, something Simon had arranged and paid for over your half-hearted protests.

Finally, finally, he spotted you walking towards them. You were clearly tired, dressed down, looking a little limp.

And you were still one of the lost gorgeous things he'd ever seen.

Johnny pounced as soon as you were past the last gate, picking you up in his arms and swinging you around in a hug. You yelped and laughed, clinging to him just as hard.

"Hi," you said, a little breathless, grinning up at him.

"Hi yerself." Johnny finally set you back on your feet, though he didn't release you yet.

"Flight alright?" Simon asked, putting a gentle hand against your back.

"Long and boring." You shrugged, poking Johnny until he released you so you could turn to hug Simon instead. Johnny's heart melted at the sight of you wrapped up in Simon's arms.

"You're home now," Simon murmured, almost too quiet for even Johnny to catch.

Johnny did melt at that, throwing himself into the hug and making you laugh, a little watery.

"Almost," you murmured, squeezing both of them. "Come on, I'm eager to get out of here. I didn't sleep a wink."

That was all it took for Johnny to take your backpack, Simon taking charge of your luggage, both ignoring your spluttering protests with aplomb. They loaded up the car (Simon's) and Johnny let you have the front seat.

The house they'd chosen was out of the way, at the end of a quiet neighborhood, with plenty of garden space.

And a huge master bedroom.

Simon parked, and you blinked awake again. Johnny had to resist the urge to cook at how cute you looked. He hopped out first and opened your door for you, eager to bring you inside. Simon brought your things in, letting Johnny unlock the door and usher you in.

Johnny watched with an overfull heart as you turned a slow circle, eyes huge as you looked around.

"Welcome home, sweetheart." Simon and Johnny squished you between them, trading off kissing you.

They had all the time in the world now.

#listening in #f!reader #johnny “soap” mactavish x you #simon “ghost” riley x you #simon “ghost” riley x johnny “soap” mactavish x you #simon “ghost” riley x johnny “soap” mactavish x reader

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call-sign-shark · 10 months

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Heaven in Your Eyes || Arthur Shelby x Reader!OC

Summary: All it took was one phone call and one visit from Ada to destroy the paradise Arthur had spent one full year building. No matter what he does, his past crimes always seem to catch up with him. Now that you are in danger, he decides to come back to Birmingham and handle the Changretta problem without you.

Words: 5,3K

TW: Angst, canonical description of violence, smut, foreplay, masturbation, self-harm, from the end of this chapter the story will take a darker turn. You've been warned.

Notes:

✞ Based off EP1 S4 of Peaky Blinders but contains many changes and variations for the sake of this series' plot.

✞ Each act features two chapters with smut in it, and they all serve the story's purpose. No more.

✞ Heaven is OP's original character but written with the use of « you » (Moodboard here).

PREVIOUS || Masterlist || NEXT CHAPTER

When Ada’s piercing eyes finally caught sight of the house’s roof through the trees’ thick foliage, she sighed relieved. While the landscape was breathtaking, the walk from her car to the front door had been tedious despite the short distance. In fact, the only way to access the house was to walk a sloped dirt road leading the visitors up to the hill’s summit — which was an almost impossible task to do when wearing classy high heels as was Ada’s case. Arthur did not lie when he said they were living far from the city. The young Shelby sister quickly wiped her forehead with the back of her hand and knocked at the door. She was welcomed by the sight of Arthur, whose magnificent steel blue eyes lit up when he saw his sister, delighted to see her. But far from a courtesy visit, the words that left her mouth broke their siblings' reunion. Like red-hot blades, they slashed Arthur’s hopes of straying away from his gangster life.

All the quietness and peace he had built throughout the year, rendering his anger outbursts less frequent, shattered like a glass smashed on concrete under the power of one sole visit from Ada and her bitter statement: the family was in danger.

No.

You were in danger.

And it was all his fault.

Something had changed in Arthur when he came back from his little talk with Ada. He had barely stepped into the house when you noticed how all the muscles of his body were tensed and how his facial features had turned into a colder expression.

“Arthur.” It has been the third time you called him, but each previous attempt had been left without any reply or reaction. Slumped on the sofa, the oldest Shelby brother was staring at an invisible spot on the wall facing him, his eyes blank and his fingers nervously taping on the left armrest. At first, you thought he just needed a bit of time with himself to swallow the visible bad news he had received from his sister, but two days had passed and now his behavior was starting to worry you.

“Arthur Shelby Jr.” You called with stricter tone this time.

All of sudden, your voice cleared the black fog of his mind and brought him back to reality. Arthur blinked several times as if he could shoo his messy thoughts away by batting his eyelashes, and finally raised his piercing blue eyes toward your graceful frame, that was standing in front of him with its arms crossed. At the serious expression on your doll face, he nervously moistened his lips with the tip of his tongue, his gaze not shifting from you one sole second. God, how gorgeous you were in your silk nightgown, as white as your hair and adorned with complex laces. That was the first thought that had crossed his mind when his gaze fell on you. In truth, he would have probably pinned you to the wall and made your legs shake until you could not walk straight anymore if he hadn’t been plagued by the dreadful news Ada brought upon your harmonious life “Eh, I know…” He started, slightly raising his almost empty whiskey glass towards you, “I shouldn’t be drinking.” He admitted, before lowering his eyes to look at his own reflection in the alcohol. With one small movement from the wrist, he made the amber liquid softly spin in the glass. Arthur was still traumatized by Linda’s constant snarky remarks and humiliations each time he was indulging in whisky, that was why he had felt the need to justify himself now that you saw him drink alone.

“You don’t need my permission to drink, Cheri.” You replied with a soft voice, as soft as a feather’s caress on his poor aching soul. You were definitely not like his former wife: he could do whatever he wanted as long as it wasn’t taking drugs or cheating. That had always been the tacit deal between both of you when things got serious — and to be honest, you had feared the first temptation far greater than the second until you realized that Arthur’s new favorite drug was you.

Your crystal irises had been observing the slightest trait of his face with slightly furrowed brows for one solid minute when you finally let out a little sigh and slid one long ivory strand of hair behind your ear, “I’m just worried. You haven’t eaten anything nor slept for two days straight.” Worst, he had been hugging you tight, burying his face in your breasts and trembling like a leaf because of panic attacks for the last two nights.

“Worried? Eh, no need to be worried, love. Cm’here.” He replied with a little smile, moving one of his long leg to invite you to have a sit on him.

Arthur did try his best not to make you feel anxious but the truth was he was literally unable to hide something from his beloved wife even if he had wished to shield you from it. He had been mulling the news over for days and nights, and it was starting to eat him alive.

You walked to him without further ado, your hips graciously swinging to the rhythm of your steps, and finally sat on his lap. Once you straddled him, you wrapped your arms around his neck and gently rested your forehead against his as you usually did. Arthur let out a sigh of relief as your bodies found each other again, his hands grabbing your hips in an almost bruising grip. He was often a bit blunt, but how much you loved his possessive and suffocating way of touching was indescribable, “Ye didn’t know how much I needed it, eh.” Arthur’s husky voice mumbled, referring to his obsessive and desperate need to constantly have physical contact with you, “How much I needed your touch.” His steel-blue irises dived into yours, losing themselves in the vastness of the frozen ocean that constituted your eyes. He could have stayed like this for eternity, hypnotized by your beauty and lulled by the oh-so-tender way you had slipped your fingers in his hair to gently scratch the shaven back of his head.

“There. I finally see a smile!” You faintly teased him, “Not that I dislike that adorable grumpy face of yours.”

Nothing much had changed since your wedding day, except for your family name and the regular discussions about trying for a baby, all nestled in each other’s arms in your bed with Kaiser sleeping near, in front of the fireplace. In truth, it has been a miracle you were not already pregnant considering Arthur’s stamina and unquenchable desire. The thing was you never left the honeymoon stage despite living together. Against all odds, Arthur Shelby was a sweet and caring husband. He never missed an opportunity to bring you gifts, whether expensive clothes, jewels, or just little flowers he picked on his way back home because it was pretty and made you think about you. Moreover, he had this ability to always manage to find awe in your daily routine, the last example of it being him spending hours observing you and discreetly drawing your frame in his sketchbook because he had spotted you swimming naked in the nearby lake, and was star-stricken by such a divine vision. He had felt like an incredibly lucky Greek artist catching sight of the most stunning nymph the Gods had ever created. Little you knew, his sketchbook was filled with portraits and doodles of you he was too ashamed of to show you. Not that he wanted to keep them for himself, but Arthur always ended up frustrated not being able to properly translate your mesmerizing and ethereal beauty on paper.

Besides your idyllic and peaceful domestic life far from gangster’s troubles, Arthur had also opened a small garage and fixed cars for a living, even if his past activities with the Peaky Blinders gave him enough money to live comfortably without working. But Arthur was surprisingly handy when his patience did not fail him, and he genuinely loved to fix cars — what had been his surprise when you reacted with joy and kissed him tenderly the day he suggested the idea, for Linda never allowed him to do so.

Regarding your own occupation, you had simply followed your mother’s path and worked as both a herbalist and healer — the second occupation being known among people only through word of mouth. That was what your life looked like prior to Ada’s unexpected visit two days ago. Yet, when she left, Arthur’s eyes had turned into a darker shade, the same one he had when he was in Birmingham dirtying his hands on Tommy’s orders.

“Arthur, love. You really need to tell me what’s the matter with your sister…” You gently asked, your fingers still massaging his scalp and your juicy lips sprinkling honey pecks on the corner of his mouth from which the whisky bitterness could be tasted. But despite all your tenderness, your husband remained closed to the idea of sharing his concerns with you.

“It’s… A bit difficult to explain,” He mumbled, shutting his eyes tight, “I don’t want ye to panic or something. I can handle it and…”

“Please.” You cut him off, tightening your arms around him to pull him in a deeper hug. All his body finally relaxed a little bit when your fragile and frozen being collapsed with his, your breasts flattened against his chest and your hips firmly embracing his, “When we’ve met you told me that, from now, it was us against the rest of the world. Even if it was raining and the wind was blowing. You don’t have to face it all alone Arthur, no matter how awful or frightening it is. Let me fight it with you.” You pleaded, your lips grazing his with utter desire and genuine love.

“But I don’t want ye to be in danger.” Arthur finally admitted, reopening his gorgeous eyes to look at you. How much he hated not to share information with you, but Tommy told him it would be better if you ignored everything. Yet, the sensation of your mouth brushing his without kissing it soon stirred a bit of frustration in him. It had been enough to make him flip. With a grunt, he caught your lower lip between his teeth and gently sunk them into your soft flesh, to which you replied with a small surprised moan. Now that he got all your attention, he proceeded to kiss you almost furiously, his worries, dawning anger and blazing desire mixing together. His movements became blunter all of sudden, “I’ll fookin’ kill myself if something bad would happen to ye, eh,” He growled a bit louder against your mouth, his husky voice highlighted by an aggressive tone you hadn’t heard in one full year, “But I’ll destroy ‘em first, eh. These fookin’ wops won’t lay their fingers on ye. They won’t.” He repeated, his venomous anger wakening up slowly and coursing through his rusted veins. A little surprised whimper escaped from your mouth as Arthur’s tongue forced its way between your lips a bit too eagerly.

“Arthur —“

“Fookin’ bastards, how dare they eh?!” The gravel in his voice boomed louder, underlined with a palpable rage now. As he pestered, his mind spinning in a whirlpool of negativity, Arthur grabbed your wrist and led your hand between his legs, pressing it on his half-hardened shaft, for all his brutal emotions more than often led to sex when you were around. It was his, as well as your, way to release tension, “How dare they threaten me eh?” The tall gangster started to breathe loudly through his nose as his rage was increasing. All he needed was the smallest sparkle for him to explode. While he kept your wrist in one hand, his other one ran up your thighs in a rough caress to lift your nightgown eagerly, “Shift these panties, woman.” He said a bit more aggressively than intended, maddened by the overwhelming urge to feel your wet slit all around him. Growling, Arthur’s mouth worked its way down your neck to leave small red marks on your divine ivory skin.

“Arthur, no.” You breathed as you bite down a moan, doing your best to sound strict. As good as it felt, you did not want to give in now: getting distracted by rough sex was out of question, what you wanted was the truth first.

Arthur, no. As soon as your words left your tantalizing lips, they echoed in his head and were enough to snatch him from his violent thoughts. The tall gangster blinked and raised his slightly confused gaze to you, shocked by your vivid refusal. After all, you would usually let him ruin you whenever he needed it so why would you refuse? “You’re hurting me.” You reiterated with a sweeter tone now that you got his attention.

“Oh shit!” He released your wrist in response, guilt beating him down when he realized your skin was redden because of his grip, “I’m sorry…Oh, Angel, I’m bloody sorry…”

Still, you kept your hand there to his greatest surprise. The only difference was that your free fingers went for his cheek to bless him with soothing caresses to reassure him. As always, the cold sensation of your flesh against his managed to tame the wildfire that was burning in his soul, “Calm down...” Your voice was merely a whisper now, similar to the enchanting murmur of a siren singing in the far away distance, “Is this what you want?” You backed up a little bit on his lap to create a little gap between your hips so that you could get a better grip on his bulge. The palm of your hand started to languidly rub it.

“Heaven?” He gasped, the anger in his cold blue eyes suddenly turning into an astonished and beseeching look. But for Arthur Shelby no meant no, hence the fact he did not dare to touch you back, “Oh bloody hell, please…” He gritted through his teeth. As strong as he was, he felt his body weakened and his throat tightened with an unsufferable arousal.

“Now you tell me,” Leaving your sentence hanging, you grabbed him a bit stronger and he whimpered at your unexpected roughness. A long exhale escaped from his nostrils as he focused on both the electrifying sensation that shook his core and the enchanting sight of your lips he dreamt to fuck. Yet, Arthur gathered all his strength and willpower to remain calm, afraid you wouldn’t let him sink into your welcoming warmth if he misbehaved, “What happened with Ada?” You inquired, tilting your head on the side, “What did John tell you when he called you?”

“Eh… Nothing— Ah..” Arthur’s lips parted under the coiling pleasure when you tightened your grip on his shaft, “I— Can’t tell ye, love.”

“No, no. You’re going to tell me. Do you know why? Because you’re a good boy for your wife.” You cooed. Your almost chilling aquamarine irises were anchored in his, burning with an unflickering gleam of power and confidence. Sometimes Arthur wondered how such a delicate and fragile-looking angel like you could hide the seductive and fearful which you truly were. A witch to the others, a goddess to him — And how he liked both of those facets of you, feeding his dominant behavior but also fulfilling his more submissive tendencies when he needed to but was too ashamed to admit it. To be true, you both knew how to balance the power you hold over the other one, and tonight, you were clearly the one in charge, “Are you a good boy, Arthur Shelby?” You teased, one brow raised.

He clenched his fists around the sofa’s blanket in a desperate attempt to find a way to control himself for he almost cum at your praise, “I am…” Arthur slowly rolled his hips, “I’m a good boy for me wife…“ He replied, sucking in a sharp breath, with his quivering hoarse voice, “Please…” He growled in discomfort because his trousers had become far too tight. Nevertheless, you remained unmoved by his supplications and stopped moving your hand, waiting for an answer, “Alright! Alright… Im gonna tell ye!”

“I hope so.” You replied, kneading his bulge again.

“Ada and John told me we’ve all received a Black Hand.” He started, looking at you with impatience. Satisfied, you unbuckled his belt and let your hand work its way into his underwear to grab his hardened cock by its thick base and free it from his trouser. Arthur let out a loud groan, a drop of sweat beading on his forehead. Not only at the sensations but at the sight of your small fingers around his erection.

“What’s a Black Hand?” You kept asking all the while enjoying the sight of your husband’s enamored, begging, and fascinated gaze. He was looking at you, obliterating everything else, for only the words that came from your holy lips mattered.

“Oh fook, Angel… Touch me harder.” He begged in a trembling, almost broken voice. If there was one thing Arthur could not stand that was being teased. Thus it did not take much for you to have him wrapped around your finger. He suddenly bit his lower lip, eyes glistening with ruling passion, for the way the moonlight reflected through the window behind you created a heavenly halo around your head, “Touch me!” Another husky whine. The gangster rolled his hips eagerly, nails digging into the sofa’s fabric.

“Focus, Mon amour. The Black Hand. What is it?” You repeated, pressing a little kiss on his starving and slightly parted mouth while your hand started to jerk him off in slow up-and-down movements. At first, Arthur thought it would soothe the painful hardness of his cock but your far too languid movements only worsened it.

“Ah! The Black Hand yes. It’s a death threat from the Sicilian mafia. They send one to everyone they wanna — oh fook! — wanna kill…” He said through gritted teeth at the feeling of your thumb rubbing the glistening tip of his cock in circular motions, smearing precum on his skin. Arthur rolled his eyes, holding back a desperate cry as your hand pumped him in a way that brought him closer to heaven — or closer to hell, it was getting hard to tell.

“Why would they send you one?” You frowned, stroking a little bit faster.

“Oh bloody motherfucking hell!” He yelled, the gravel in his voice making the house shake as he threw his head back. Yet, he did not shut his eyes tight for looking at you while you masturbated him only strengthened his pleasure. He felt as if he was burning from within, “Cause I killed Changretta’s dad! I’ve put a fookin’ bullet through his skull. And now Tommy wants us to have an emergency reunion!” He spat very quickly, unable to stand it anymore. With a bit of luck, you’d allow him to spill himself now that he told you everything. Arthur let out an ashamed and submissive whimper, turned into a begging mess, “Let me cum! I’ll fookin’ beg on my knees if that’s what ye want! On my bloody knees, I will! but please… Please, Angel… I can’t take it anymore, oh God.”

“Tommy wants you back. Of course.” You winced, as if the bitterness of your own venom had exploded on your tastebuds, still caressing your man absentmindedly.

“Heaven…” He lamented, hiding his face in the crook of his arm, abandoning himself to the pleasure. Arthur moved his hips, trying to thrust his length in your fist in the hope of releasing himself but it wasn’t enough. The way you stroke him kept him at the edge of climax without allowing him to reach it and it was driving him crazy. Your focus shifted back to your husband, whose legs had started to shake like leaves in the wind.

You snapped back to the present moment,“ Oh Arthur,” You purred when you realized that your poor man had reached his limits but still tried to behave himself by not throwing you on the sofa and making you pay for teasing him. Bringing your face closer to his, you laid a myriad of kisses from his scarred throat up to the corner of his mouth, his mustache pleasantly scratching the skin of your face as you did, “Cum for me like the good boy you are.” You whispered in his ear, your siren-like voice intoxicating even more and causing him to whine no matter how hard he tried to bite it down… Goosebumps adorned your body at the arousing sight of Arthur, usually tough and rough, almost crying from pleasure and frustration. A little feverish sight escaped from your mouth, your walls clenching onto nothing. It was enough: he had been good and deserved some kind of relief. Hence, you finally stroked him how he wanted to be stroked, “I’m proud of you Arthur. So proud… Cum for me, my strong and lovely husband.” Your praises definitely got everything of him. Arthur’s fingers clenched so hard on the blanket that he almost tore it. He arched his back and the gravel in his voice chanted your name on repeat like he never did for any women, whores, or good girls, like a preacher imploring the mercy of his divinity. One minute later his cock throbbed in your palm before he finally released the tension in hot spurts of milky ropes in both your hand and your thighs. With a little satisfied smirk, you brought your fingers to your mouth and licked his release while looking at your shaking man.

“Christ…” He let out a long sigh, his body collapsing back on the sofa. The arm with which he hid his face fell limp after he tucked himself back in his trousers. Left as a panting mess, Arthur was trying to catch his breath while his half-closed eyes were still staring at you with a blissed-out gleam in their magnificent blue irises. But that extraordinary post-sex peace had to come to an end: the worst part of the discussion was awaiting. Arthur moistened his lips with the tip of his tongue, stars still dangling in his vision, and, without the slightest warning, pulled you in a strong hug. His arms wrapped around you, pressing your ribs so hard you almost suffocated: He was afraid. Fucking afraid to lose you, “You need to stay here. Safe and sound.”

“Sorry?” You suddenly exclaimed, lowering your gaze toward him to ensure you understood correctly what he just said, “That’s absolutely out of question, Arthur. I’m coming with you back to Birmingham. We’ll go through this shit together and we’ll be back in our forest as soon as possible.” You said, your fingers gently fondling his neck.

“No, love.” His hoarse voice, rendered raspier by the orgasm he had, retorted with a bit more authoritative tone as he regained his composure.“Ye ain’t coming with me. It’s too dangerous. Trust me, I’d love too but I would not forgive myself if Changretta would hurt you.”

“Are you kidding me? I can’t let you go alone and risk your life,” Panic had already started to kick in at that idea, twisting your guts and accelerating your heartbeat. Who will take care of him if you weren’t by his side? As the one who had pulled the trigger, you were more than aware that Arthur was probably the first name underlined in red on that Changretta’s list, “You know I can be useful. Arthur please.”

“I’ll be back very quick, love.” Arthur tried to reassure you, but parting from him was far too painful for you to agree with him, "I'll be back soon and we'll have a little one together right? The perfect couple…" The corner of his mouth stretched in a tender and soothing smile right before he crashed his lips against yours. You kissed him back but it did not made you feel better. Quite the contrary. Shaken by his decision, you sighed and moved away from him. Despite his attempt to hold you back, you still managed to break his embrace and walked towards the window, wrapping your arms around your own tiny frame to hug you.

Arthur bit his knuckles, frustrated by the whole situation, and utterly in pain for you had just rejected him. After a short while, he got up from the sofa and joined you near the window, his legs still weak, “Listen. You gotta trust me. I don’t want to be away from you either — God knows I’m already scared of withering without your heavenly presence and your arms around me neck. But I can’t risk losing ye. I would fookin’ die, I swear would. I want you to stay safe here, guarded by Kaiser and by the forest, rather than with me at the mercy of these Italians. If you come with me they’ll assault you… Because of me. Because yer me wife.” Arthur explained in a slow and distinct voice, his feathery fingers rearranging one of your white strands of hair. Tears blurred your vision at his words — since your wedding there hadn’t been one day you’d been away from each other more than a few hours, hence the overwhelming misery you felt that such a plan. , “Look at me,” He asked, gently grabbing your arm to make you spin. His hands, big and calloused, cupped your face, “Heaven,” he dived into your fleeing eyes, from which crystal tears were rolling down your pearly white cheeks, “Everything’s gonna be fine, ey.”

You slowly nodded, defeated. “Tout ira bien.” You repeated in French, looking at him with the most heartbreaking pout he had ever seen. In truth, you were trying to convince yourself more than actually believing it. Your little fists clenched discreetly —and they clenched so hard that your knuckles turned white.

No, it was not going to be fine.

Definitely not.

Snuggling in one of Arthur’s shirts, you buried your nose in the collar to smell the musky and reassuring perfume of your husband. A frustrated growl escaped from your juicy lips. You were sitting on the wooden floor in front of the fire, hugging your knees against your chest as you watched the flames die in the hearth. Only two weeks had passed since Arthur’s departure for Birmingham and you were already at the edge of the abyss, ready to fall into a pit of madness. Locked up here between the walls of your own house, you feel estranged from your home, trapped in a doorless maze. Just like a wonderful Siberian tigress in a zoo, you were spending your day pacing back and forth in the living room under Kaiser’s saddened and worried eyes, before collapsing on the floor or the nearby sofa. Devoured by anxiety and another frightful gut feeling no one was there to listen to, you usually ended up rolling in a ball with the guard dog’s big wet snout poking you in a desperate attempt to cheer you up. How could you carry on with your life when your soulmate was far away from you, hunted down by a whole mafia whose every member wanted to see him dead? No matter the protective spells you had cast upon Arthur, you could not help but give in to panic. After all, he was the only one you had. And you were quite unfortunate considering how every people you had truly loved always tended to end up dead and cold, six feet under.

Giving one last kiss on Kaiser’s head, you got up from the floor and went to the small silvery cigarette case that was on the coffee table. You slipped a cigarette between your plump lips and lit it up, immediately taking a long puff in the hope of calming your nerves. As the nicotine burnt your throat and lungs, you felt your nervousness alleviating a tiny bit. I should not be here, you thought, I should be by his side. These were the words that were playing on repeat in your head. In your rambling, your mind focused on Thomas Shelby, whose past mischiefs made you believe he was the only one responsible for your role —or rather for your non-role— in this new war against the Italians. Even if Arthur did not tell you anything about it, you knew he had managed to fill your man’s mind with the idea that you’d be safer here only because he did not want you back in Birmingham. That son of a bitch — he was well aware that he had to get rid of you if he wanted Arthur to behave like his dog. You let out a furious cloud of smoke from your nostrils.

As it as been the case before Thomas had sent you all in jail, your sharp witch instincts were ringing emergency alarms in your very soul. Your chest tightened at the sudden boiling rage that coursed through your veins. How ridiculous that was? You were stuck here, completely useless, as Arthur, John, Polly, and Ada were all facing unnamable dangers. Pressing your lips tight around the cigarette, you pinched your nose to calm your nerves. That was at the moment you had almost managed to calm down a little bit that one of the living room windows crashed in hundreds of little sharp shards of glass. The cacophony of it made Kaiser jump before he immediately reacted by rushing near the gaping window and aggressively barking at the outside darkness: the beast hundred pounds Cane Corso was ready to tear throats to protect you. With a pounding heart and eyes wide open, you looked at in the distance: All you could see was a car’s headlights located at the bottom of the hill, but they quickly disappeared when the driver left the place with haste.

“Putain!” You whispered, cigarette still hanging in your mouth and one hand pressed against your chaotic heart. What the hell had happened? Still shaking from the shock, you looked at all around you and noticed the huge brick that had been thrown at the window. However, what stirred your panic was not the tool of the mischief itself but rather the letter that was tied to it with barbed wires. You did not wait any longer and grabbed it, untying the letter without minding the small cuts the wire left on your skin. As you opened it, your crimson blood drenched the fabric of the paper in dozen of stains.

To Arthur Shelby’s whore,

If you think you are safe hidden here in the wild you are utterly wrong. We haven’t forgotten about you, and despite the fact you are outside of our economic interests, you evil witch have to pay for Father Hughes and Simon Conrad’s death.

We have understood from your past crimes that you are a great advocate of retributive justice so here comes the other side of the coin. Hereby, we wish to inform you that we will come for you one day. You can hide. You can run. But you won’t escape us.

In the meantime, check twice under your bed, in your closet and behind you, because we are the shadow that follows you. Also be sure that if the Mafia does not succeed in killing Arthur Shelby, we will.

Every witch can burn,

Your heart missed a beat so big you felt dizzy. The letter slipped from your wounded fingers and fell on the floor. You took the cigarette out of your mouth and, instinctively stubbed it out on the back of your wrist without the slightest wince for it was the only thing you had found to calm yourself down. The crackling sound of burning flesh echoed in the room as the red-hot ashes marked your delicate and immaculate porcelain skin with a black and red circle. The pain, vivid and stingy, did not seem to bother you though, judging by the way your face remained absolutely neutral: the truth was the burning of your wrath outmatched the one on your flesh. No matter Thomas’ orders and Arthur’s worries, you had made up your mind: you were going back to Birmingham, and you were going to make the whole city shatter and shake at your fingertips if that was what you needed to do to retrieve your peaceful life.

If all of Birmingham was afraid of Arthur Shelby more than anything, it was only because they had never seen the fury of his wife.

✞ Any comment, review, reblog, or constructive criticism is welcome. Your reactions really motivate me and keep me alive, so please don't be shy. English is not my first language.

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still-not-over-transformers · 9 months

Text

“Strictly Professional”

(Knockout x Reader-insert)

Takes place after the events of Season 1 Episode 11: Speed Metal. An event that left Knockout without his driver-side door.

“Do you know how difficult that is to replace!?”

(Y/N) were bored. Painfully bored. Looking outside a mahogany-lined window pane, you had a stunning unobscured view of the sunset. The rolling hills were a lush green, and the sunset painted the sky gradient hues of gold, crimson, and lavender bordered by a tree-line comprised of spruce, pine, and cedar. It was a gorgeous view you had seen again, and again, and…. Again. (Y/N) sighed. Growing up in a stunning villa in upper New York state had its perks, but despite being able to do whatever you wanted you never seemed entertained. You see, money can buy a lot of things: houses, luxury cars, private jets, trips around the world, etc. But it could never seem to stop the ever-constant boredom you often experienced as nothing was ever unexpected. As if something else was missing.

*BUZZ*

You looked at your phone to see a reminder you had set for the Exotic Car Show you were attending that evening. You were mostly ready as it was, just touching up your makeup a bit. Then you grabbed your phone and clutch purse before making your way down the spiral staircase to the front doors. You had chosen to dawn an elegant but edgy silver dress with an asymmetrical hem and a single sleeve on the right arm. Your footwear of choice were classic black heels, but with a reasonable pump-height so you didn’t break your ankles. The doors were held open by your family butlers, as you made your way to the curb of the driveway at the front of your family villa.

Your family’s wealth came from a combination of significant shares in various luxury-brand car manufacturers; your father being on the board of directors for Mercedes, and your mother the Logistics Manager also for Mercedes. Obviously the same workplace is how your parents met. Throughout your life, your parents had given you the world, albeit requiring you to maintain a job. So you work alongside your mother as her assistant. For the past month, your mother had been off who knows where in Europe on a business retreat. While you had been invited, you knew it would be nothing but hanging around other snooty rich business-types whom were always dull company. Also, why were rich guys always old and/or ugly?

Your chauffeur was waiting with the car door open. You entered the vehicle and soon you were off to the car expo. On the drive, you had been reading up on the potential reveals and demos that might be at the event. You were primarily excited about the exotic vehicle demos, as you had an appreciation of exotic cars. The horsepower, design, curvatures of the body frame, were nothing short of thrilling.

As your ride pulled up to the event, you exited the vehicle as your chauffeur assisted you. You acknowledged the chauffeur curtly, before entering the event space. There were a few minor celebrities taking photo ops; some wannabe playboys posing near their cars with groupies and models; and then the actual cars themselves scattered about a massive lot. Each vehicle had an attendant to provide information as well as prevent unwanted touching of the cars. You passed a silver Bugatti Chiron, a brand new Corvette Stingray, luxury Jaguar and Cadillac models… But something else caught your eye. A glint of red made you turn and approach a vehicle off to the side.

As you got closer you saw a stunning bright scarlet Aston Martin One-77 with white highlights. You couldn’t deny that this was a sexy-ass car. “Damn…” (Y/N) muttered. You approached the luxury vehicle and drank in its sleek form, the curvature of the design, the stunning richness of the paint job. As you walked around the car, you were jarred at the realization that the driver-side door was completely gone. “What the fuck happened to you?” (Y/N) exclaimed, “Who in their right mind wouldn’t have replaced that by now?” Come to think of it, it was odd that this one car in-particular lacked an attendant which all other cars had present.

With the missing door, the temptation to climb inside was intense. The one thing her family wasn’t big on spending money on were cars. Your parents thought that spending money on lavish vehicles was an unnecessary expense. Fucking ironic. Even if you couldn’t have it, you were going to briefly experience the thrill of having such a stunning vehicle. You climbed into the driver’s seat and drank in the elaborate console, the impeccably clean interior, it even smelled brand new. You gently ran your hands over the steering wheel, imagining what it would feel like to drive it. As you indulged yourself for a moment longer, suddenly you found that the seatbelt was latched around you. “What the fuck? …When did i…?” (Y/N) said in confusion.

Before you knew it, the car shifted into gear and peeled out from its spot. Multiple attendees of the event panicked and flung themselves out of the way. (Y/N) shrieked once before desperately pumping the brakes, but to no avail. When you tried to move the gear shift into neutral, you found that it didn’t budge at all. After a few minutes of sheer terror and panic, you were no longer at the exotic vehicle venue, but instead on the outskirts of the city in a maze of alleyways. As the vehicle finally came to a stop, you heard strange sounds akin to shifting parts and an electronic sound. Before you knew it you were aloft in the air. In the hand of a giant robot who was giving you a highly-offended glare. You were frozen. You struggled to comprehend the situation, wondering if you might have lost your mind.

“Humans have no sense of respect! It’s bad enough that I’m missing a part, but now you decide it’s a bright idea to climb into a vehicle you don’t know” the Decepticon exclaimed. It talked (Y/N) thought. Knockout looked down at the tiny human in his grasp, “I hope you enjoyed the brief joy ride, but I think now I’ll punish you for daring to touch me.” With his free servo, Knockout’s servo transforms into a buzzsaw. You begin to panic, squirming briefly in the grip of the large metal hand around your waist before pausing. “WAIT! WAIT A SECOND AND I CAN HELP YOU!” (Y/N) shouted. The Decepticon raised an optic ridge and paused, “Oh? And how could an insignificant human as yourself possibly help me?” You took a deep breath to compose yourself, clearing your throat before speaking further. “I can replace your missing door. I have resources.”

Knockout was clearly interested in where this was going, as he had been having a nightmare trying to replace that door. “Go on…” You continued, “My job is literally ordering supplies and parts for luxury and exotic cars, I’m pretty sure I can order a replacement for you. Aston Martin One-77 right?” Knockout thought to himself for a moment, wondering when he would have such an opportunity to make himself whole again. The Decepticon turned his helm back towards the helpless human within his grip, “Correct. I see you do know your vehicles, human. If you can indeed supply me with the replacement part I require, I will hold off on exterminating you.”

(Y/N) breathed a sigh of relief, “I can make the call right away, if I would be allowed to reach my phone? And t-trust me, I’m not stupid enough to try to run in these heels.” “So now you make wise decisions. Very well.” Knockout chided before slowly lowering (Y/N) to the ground and releasing you. You briefly adjusted your dress and hair before opening your phone and making a call. You didn’t attempt any funny business, and reached out to one of your business contacts at Aston Martin Works. After a brief amount of small talk, you ordered the part and arranged its delivery. As you ended the phone call, you returned your gaze to the massive robot before you. “Alright I had the part ordered for you. And With express shipping.”

Knockout looked down at you, surprised you hadn’t soiled yourself as most humans would have by now. “And how am I supposed to receive this part? For all I know, if I let you out of my sight you’ll disappear and I’ll be left high and dry” he mused. Finding your confidence you replied to him calmly, “The part will be shipped to my home address at 11am sharp tomorrow. To prove I’m good for it, you can drive me home so you’ll know where to knock if I’m lying.” The Decepticon scientist was taken aback by this human. Giving up her home address so willingly confounded him. Knockout could easily decimate her and her entire home, yet this human was so willing to cooperate despite her best interest. “…You are a very strange human. You do understand I will squash you if you’re lying?” He placed a servo on his hip sassily. You watched his mannerisms and couldn’t help but grin slightly, he was so sassy.

“You are a giant transforming robot with a buzzsaw hand, and I’m not an idiot. I’ll keep my word. Besides, you’ll know exactly where I am since you’ll be taking me home. And stop calling me ‘human’ my name is (Y/N)” you smirked. Knockout raised an optic ridge, albeit impressed with this strange human. “Very well… but touch anything and I will crush you” he said before transforming back into vehicle-form. You took a pause before climbing into the driver’s seat, being careful not to touch anything. As the engine starts, you had expected the same aggressive driving as your previous abduction. To your surprise, the drive was fast but smooth. You tried to avoid speaking as much as possible, not wanting to push your luck, so instead you thought. You thought about the events prior to your encounter and pinched yourself to make sure you weren’t dreaming. It could’ve been worse to be honest. You could’ve been kidnapped by an ugly white pedophile van. At least you were taken by a sexy Aston Martin.

After what felt like brief moments, your captor arrived at the gates of your family estate. You punched in the security code in the keypad and the gates opened. Knockout pulled up to the front doors and parked. As you tried to exit the vehicle, the seatbelt wouldn’t unlatch and you looked back. “Remember, I’ll be close-by until our deal is seen through” Knockout hummed. You paused, “You sure are untrusting for a robot. I don’t have a car of my own so no worries on me going anywhere.” With that, the seatbelt released and you were able to make it inside of your home. As you climbed the staircase towards your room, you couldn’t help but clutch her chest. You felt a surge of adrenaline and you knew it wasn’t fear. No, this felt more like butterflies… You went into your room and immediately climbed into your bed. As your eyelids felt heavy, your only thoughts were of the intoxicating voice replaying in your mind. Until you fell asleep….

You felt slightly groggy as you awoke the next morning. Slowly as you climbed out of bed you remembered the last night’s events. Just to be sure you hadn’t dreamt it, you rushed to your window to look at the driveway. Sure enough, you saw the red and white Aston Martin parked there. A brief double-honk was audible, and you realized the robot could see you from the window. Your phone buzzed and as you opened it, you saw a security notification from the gates. You approved access and a delivery vehicle made its way up the driveway and delivered the part you had ordered. You made your way outside and signed for the delivery and the delivery employees carefully loaded the part into the Knockout’s trunk. As soon as the delivery men had departed from the property, you approached the driver’s side door and leaned forwards, “Looks like I came through on my promise. Think that makes us square?”

Knockout hesitated briefly before replying, “We shall see. After all you are technically a loose end, knowing of my existence and all. We will see if you’re worth more alive than dead.” As you lingered a moment longer, you couldn’t help but ask a question that had been burning within, “Just in case you do decide to continue doing business with me, may I at least know your name?” Dead silence was the initial response and it lingered in the air for what felt like an eternity. “You may address me as Knockout.” With that, Knockout revved his engine and quickly drove down the driveway and onto the main road. As he gained more distance between himself and the villa, Knockout questioned what he was to do about this human. He could’ve just killed her and be done with it, after all he did have the part he had needed. But a part of him didn’t want to end this odd human. He brushed it off as a start to a strictly professional relationship, and a potential supplier if he needed any more replacement parts in the future.

A couple months later….

After your first encounter with Knockout, you felt reinvigorated. That fateful encounter provided you with more excitement and adrenaline than you had ever experienced. After you had provided Knockout with the spare part, you were certain you would never lay eyes upon that robot again. To your surprise, you would have many more encounters with him. Apparently there were other giant robots whom Knockout would get into battles with, and would result in him needing replacement parts. With each encounter, you found yourself enjoying his company more and more. Finding both yourself and him to be fellow automobile enthusiasts. Your conversations even included some witty banter and jokes here and there. More than anything else, you found that your heart fluttered every time you laid eyes on him. You weren’t quite sure why, but nonetheless you enjoyed being around Knockout.

It was a Thursday afternoon and you had met with Knockout at your villa to provide another spare part, as Knockout had lost a side-view mirror in a scuffle with what you knew as “Autobots.” You had wanted to attempt a more friendly relationship with Knockout, but never wanted to risk it. Today was the day you decided to be bold. After all, you had sent the staff home early. You approached Knockout at the curb of your driveway, “You know, there is an International Auto Show being held in New York tomorrow night that will consist of the most expensive and luxurious vehicles from across the planet. I’ve got a ticket, but I’m afraid I’m short on a stunning ride to show up with.”

Knockout transformed from his vehicle mode and towered over you. He raised his optic ridge, wondering what on earth she was getting at, “You do understand I’m a highly advanced cybernetic being, not a taxi service? Besides, our relationship is strictly… professional and exists because I’ve chosen not to squash you. Yet.” You nod your head as you watch his body language. “Mhm. Mhm. All true, except for the fact I don’t think you’d want to squash me. I think you’ve gotten fond of our “professional” relationship,” she uses air quotes and smirks. “That and I don’t think a vehicle enthusiast such as yourself would want to miss out on an exclusive reveal of new models before the rest of the planet. A shame you’ll squash me and never experience it,” she says with an open smirk.

Knockout turns towards (Y/N) and gives her a look, a servo on his hip in his sassy mannerism, “Now now, I didn’t say no. Honestly it would be embarrassing if you showed up in anything less stylish than yours truly.” You could feel your heart skip a beat as you tried to reply in a nonchalant manner, “So you’re saying yes? I guess it’s a date then. The event starts at 7, so we should get an early start since it’s an hour drive.”

Knockout chuckles briefly before replying, “I’ll be here at 7. Always best to be fashionably late.” He smirks before transforming, the shine from his polished chassis gleaming in the light of the setting sun. He dramatically peels out of the expansive and large driveway before leaving the property. As the Decepticon’s frame disappeared from view, (Y/N) sighed softly to herself, “Always so dramatic…”

As Knockout began his drive back to the pickup coordinated for the Nemesis, he couldn’t help but have his gaze linger at the quickly disappearing villa in his rear view mirror. Perhaps the relationship between him and this human was a bit more than… strictly professional.

⭐️

If you enjoyed this please give it a like. If you want a continuation, lemme know! ❤️

#transformersprime #transformers one shots #transformers #transformers prime #TFP #tfp knockout #knockout #transformers oneshot #transformers fanfiction #x reader #reader insert #transformersreaderinsert #transformers knockout #oneshot #knockout x reader

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wwenhlimagines · 4 months

Text

A Picture Says A Thousand Words - Hook fluff

"Hey babe, I know you wanted to go see Christmas lights, right?"

I smiled and nodded, tilting my head to listen closely to my boyfriend, Hook.

"I heard the zoo has a lot of good photo ops with animals and lights. Wanna go tonight?"

I tried to contain the squeak in my voice as I agreed and ran off to find an outfit. Hook knows how much I love animals and Christmas lights, so I know this has to be a good date night.

A couple hours later, we have gotten our hot chocolate and we have started walking around the zoo admiring the lights and cooing at the animals. We found our way to some of our favorite animals and took pictures of each other in front of the coolest light displays.

I went to the restroom as Hook stood in line to get some drinks. I checked my phone after washing my hands and saw I had gotten a text from Skye saying she was here and I should meet her over by the meerkat exhibit.

I rush out to find Hook ready to keep going with a drink for each of us and cinnamon roasted pecans in his hoodie pocket. "Babe, Skye said she is over by the meerkat. Can we go find her now?"

He smiles and nods, kissing my forehead before placing his hand on my back and guiding me through the crowd of people towards the meerkat exhibit. I happily ran over to say hi to my favorite animals before turning around to see Hook on his phone. "Can you take my picture, babe?"

He quickly snaps a picture before his phone gains his attention again. I shrug, assuming someone might have texted him about work and turned back around to watch the tiny animals scurry around. I feel my phone buzz assuming it is Skye asking where I am, but instead I see Hook is texting me pictures from tonight. I smile and scroll through them quickly before I realize there are words written in the lights behind me in these pictures.

My jaw drops and I slowly turn around as I read the words "Will You Marry Me" in the pictures. I almost drop my phone as I see Hook down on one knee with a gorgeous ring in his hands.

"Y/N, you are my best friend, my favorite person in the world, and everything I have ever dreamt of having in a life partner. Your smile brightens every room you walk into and I don't want to live another day without you. Will you marry me and become Mrs. Senerchia?"

I nod and let him put the ring on my finger as I see flashes going off around us. "Of course, I will marry you. I love you so much."

He stands up and wraps his arms around my waist before dipping me to the side and passionately kissing my lips. We hear cheers, but we stay lost in our own little world for a minute or two before coming back to reality. When he sets me back upright, I see our friends cheering and smiling. Skye and the other girls run up to check the ring as the guys pat Hook on the back.

We all walked through the rest of the zoo together as Hook held my left hand, brought my hand up to his lips, and kissed my ring finger occasionally. "You have always had gorgeous fingers, but they look even better now."

Eventually, we say goodbye to everyone, and we go back to our own car, where I take way too many pictures with my new accessory. We drive home holding hands and stealing kisses at stop lights as I feel my cheeks hurting from smiling so much.

When we get home, I sit down on the couch and cuddle up to my fiancé as we let the night sink in. "Okay, I know I didn't see the words when we were walking through the lights. So, tell me how you did it."

Hook smirks, "I asked Anthony to help with editing the pictures, and Skye agreed to approve of the pictures before sending them to me and then texting you to get you in position."

I leaned up and kissed him, letting my lips linger as I whispered, "It was perfect. I can't wait to marry you, Mr. Senerchia."

He kisses me back and pulls me in closer to him. "Perfect just like you, Mrs. Senerchia."

Tags: @gethooked @730hook @99hook @thesupreme316 @legit9thlunaticwarrior @plentyoffandoms @shawtys-things @hookswifeeyy @hooks-martin

#aew imagine #aew hook imagine #aew hook #aew hook fic

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cyberrose2001 · 11 months

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I got this headcanon or fanfic idea I wanted to see again, of optimus prime with a chubby reader who is always very shy or timid trying to avoid getting op's attention after the leader himself decided to be their guardian, they would do that by just acting like some bg character ,their own business in their own spot,but always liking to look at Optimus, admiring him, having this nice feeling.

Optimus always questioned and wondered why after they came ,why they where the one to be less interacting, always on thr corner wacthing everything while playing with their fingers, and with now him being their guardian, he could have a better chance to talk to them and know more of them

I always find chubby reader stuff so cute ^^, it can be any gender , I got a little carried away with my mind

TFP Optimus x chubby!GN!reader

"I perceive that you are going through some inner conflict." Optimus continues to speak softly, "If it is any consolation to you, you are free of judgement whilst you are with me."

(I'm running out of gifs to use oop-)

This one was such a pleasure to write due to my own experience, I am always willing to write chubby readers and the fluff that ensues <3

Warnings: SFW, fluff, chubby reader.

Word count: 1071

You've been the quiet type for as long as you can remember, opting to observe everyone and everything around you. You had always told yourself it was by choice that your feelings towards yourself had no influence on your interactions with others and that you were only shy. But ultimately, you've always felt self-conscious about what others think, often comparing yourself to the more extroverted individuals and their confidence in striking up conversations with strangers. You wish you had that confidence, but no matter how hard you try, you get tongue-tied and retreat to a safe space, usually away from prying eyes.

But sometimes, the prying eyes find you again, particularly one gorgeous pair of blue optics that belong to your guardian. Of course, you try your best to hide from him due to his large stature and commanding yet gentle voice. Still, over time you found yourself catching glances with Optimus more often, and when you did, he always gave you a soft smile.

Optimus Prime was a very observant bot by nature; it came with his job being both the leader of the Autobots and an expert ex-archivist. He had only been your guardian for a few months. Still, he has picked up on the differences between the personalities of the other humans and you. Optimus is familiar with the others, being loud and at least somewhat interactive. Still, he had never met a quiet and timid human like you. It made him wonder why you acted so that you would retreat to the room's corners and avoid all contact with everyone.

Well, all verbal contact, at least. Optimus had noticed your increasing stares directed at him. He decided to pull you aside to try and talk to you, hidden away in his berthroom. Hence, the conversation is private but also in hopes of making you feel more comfortable. He still noticed you fidgeting with your fingers and absentmindedly picking at the corners of your fingernails. Optimus knew this was a self-soothing tactic and a clear indicator that you were anxious about talking with him. So, Optimus reached his servos down to ever pry your hands away so gently from each other to prevent more scratches that tattered your delicate skin.

"I must ask," Optimus runs a digit across your wrist. He can feel the goosebumps along with your hair standing on end. Optimus needs to speak quietly to be as un-intimidating to you as possible, "Why must you avoid speaking to me?"

It was a simple question to most, but you struggle to find the words yet again, and you can feel the familiar knot in the back of your throat. Optimus senses your inability to speak and gently squeezes your wrist to bring you back to the present moment.

"I perceive that you are going through some inner conflict." Optimus continues to speak softly, "If it is any consolation to you, you are free of judgement whilst you are with me."

Optimus is surprised to find a quiet voice piercing through the cold air of his room. Your voice is so soft-spoken that Optimus had to strain his audio receptors to hear what you were saying.

"I'm sorry, Optimus." You breathe out, unsure what to say next or how to relay your emotions. You are not used to laying your feelings bare for anyone to see, "I just worry about how people see me."

Optimus gives you a gentle nod in encouragement and understanding; this was about your self-esteem regarding your body. He understood that humans have a specific preference for body types. It not only confused him, but he found it rather foolish that, for their very short lifespan, they chose to spend it tearing other people down. But, of course, Cybertronians are quite the opposite. For the most part, his kind has moved past such trivial matters. But what does Optimus expect from a species so young with so much to learn?

"Has someone made you feel this way?" Optimus encourages you to open up to him further. Of course, someone had to or Optimus would not think you would feel this way. He believes you are beautiful and endearing despite your lack of attention towards him.

You trace the seams of his servos with your fingers to distract yourself more. Optimus' lingering servo still wrapped around your wrist, and if you were honest, it was causing your heart to race. You pray that Optimus hasn't noticed, "Many people have. They say that nobody can love someone like me."

"And that is the reason why you avoid us? For fear of judgement, is that correct?" Optimus listens intently.

"Yep..." You pull your knees as much as you can up to your chest and hug them, "I also feel like I have nothing to offer. Jack, Miko and Raf all have unique talents, and I can't even talk to someone without becoming a nervous wreck."

Optimus pauses for a moment, his glowing optics flickering over your form. He feels thrilled because this is the most extended conversation ever with you, and he appreciates that you feel comfortable enough to confide in him. However, he doesn't let his excitement show and continues using a soft voice.

"Y/n," He gently whispers your name. Then, he squeezes your hands softly, "Do you know why I have chosen you to be my charge?"

You shake your head, enjoying the pressure of his servos on your wrists, "No, not really."

"It is due to how much you remind me of myself before I was a Prime and an archivist." Optimus lets a servo trail up your arm to rest on your shoulder, "I was exactly like you, and I have reason to believe that you will accomplish extraordinary things one day. So do not allow other people to drag you down."

"And, to the people who believe you are unworthy of love because of your outward appearance." Optimus brings a digit to your plump cheek, "They could never be more wrong."

Optimus Prime's words of love and appreciation made your heart skip a beat, and you couldn't help but lean into his touch. You felt a smile creep onto your lips for the first time in a long time. For now, you knew that as long as you had Optimus as a guardian, you were safe. You could feel secure knowing no one would ever hurt or treat you poorly again.

#transformers #transformers prime #tfp x reader #tfp optimus x reader #tfp optimus x human reader #tfp optimus #gender neutral reader #tfp x chubby reader #chubby reader

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punk4ndisorderly · 11 months

Text

light on

The one where Y/N is the daughter of a legendary Team USA coach and used to attend the development program with the boys. 8 years after they last saw each other in person, a reunion brings Jack and Y/N back into each other’s lives... and hearts.

if you keep the light on, i'll keep the light on

I II - something about the way you look tonight III

“Coach Jr., you look great!”

Y/N laughed as Alex got closer to give her a hug.

“How long has it been?”

“Too long, you dick. How’s the missus?”

“Rehearsing. Stressing. Driving herself crazy because of tiny details. The play is premiering in a week and she is so happy I swear she’s skipping around like he’s in a fucking prairie… I love her so much.”

“You guys are so cute, I swear to god… I wish I would be able to make it but I’m so happy she’s finally doing musical theatre!” she beamed, looking past him to see Jack walk through the door, clearly being nagged by Trevor, who was almost jumping up and down around their friend, not ever shutting up.

Alex looked back to see where her attention had been diverted to.

“You two really need to just get it out of your systems.” he stated simply, with a blank expression.

Y/N’s jaw almost hit the floor at her friend’s crude comment, but she couldn’t say she was surprised, he had always been one to be forward when it came to speaking his mind.

“Turc!” she scolded. “We are polar opposites who happen to be good friends and…”

“Sweetheart, you’re rambling. You and Jacko have always had a weird chemistry, and I mean that in a good way. It wouldn’t hurt to bite down on that apple. Also, I’ve already been recruited by the drama queen to fix you two up, so…”

“Your girlfriend?”

“Trevor.”

She stifled a laugh, shaking her head and rubbing his arm up and down.

“Alright, Alex, thanks. I’ve got to go, though. I’ll see you later?”

“Count on it!”

Jack waited alone in the media room Coach had arranged for the photo ops to take place in, leaning against the wall, going through his Instagram feed. Apparently, his former commander in chief had already posted the famed picture they had taken earlier and everyone was freaking out over it. The duo did look couple-y. He smiled when he got a text notification: Y/N had forwarded the picture to him.

We’re too cute for words, Hughes! xo it read.

He wondered if she’d ever see him as anything other than plain old Jack from camp. Trevor was right, he did have a huge crush on her. How could he not? She was gorgeous, kind, funny and extremely talented. He couldn’t get enough of her. He never grew tired of her presence. Something about her had a stranger hold on him.

His relationship had become tiring and dull so when his girlfriend told him she wanted to end things he was torn between feeling heartbroken and being relieved. Even though he felt a heavy weight inside his ribcage, he wasn’t reminded of it as often today because her presence eased his mind, soothed his heart.

Y/N walked in, rolling up her sleeves and moving to stand beside him.

“We’re a hit.” she announced, showing him her million-dollar smile.

The brunette man returned her grin, shrugging.

“I’ve always known we were epic.”

Soon enough, in came the mini tornado known as Y/N’s father, followed closely by the kids who had earned their picture with hard work. They took a couple of photographs before a young girl, brought as one of the boys’ plus one, requested they’d pretend they were gazing adoringly into each other’s eyes while she stood aside looking annoyed.

The doctor wrapped her arms around his neck and did as she was asked. Jack’s blue eyes burning into her own, his intense gaze making her feel something she couldn’t quite explain. He had a way of always making her feel special just by looking at her.

“I think you two should date.” the teenager blurted out. “People would go wild.”

“I’ve been hearing that quite a lot lately.” Y/N replied, avoiding to meet Jack’s eyes as she waved the girl goodbye.

Jack didn’t say a word, burying his hands in his pockets as he tried to act casual.

The photo ops were finished and both were looking forward to their well-deserved break. They walked side by side down the hall back to the improvised green room assigned to the star athletes.

“They went with formal wear for the benefit dinner, Tkachuk told me his team only did casual wear last year… I guess they really wanted to milk the whole glamorous superstar deal.” Y/N pointed out, breaking the silence that had settled between the pair.

“I’m hardly an example of what glamorous stands for.” Jack chuckled, scrunching up his nose.

“Oh, no, I meant Trevor. I wonder what he’s wearing.”

He stopped on his tracks, pretending to be deep in thought.

“That’s actually a pretty good question. He is known for making bold choices.”

“That’s one way to look at it.” she snorted, instantly covering her mouth with her hands.

“Did you just…”

“Don’t!” the smaller woman pleaded.

Jack erupted into a fit of laughter and Y/N groaned, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

“You’re never going to let me live this down, are you?”

“Not for a second, Messier.” he winked, finally managing to stop laughing, noticing the frown on her face. “Oh, come on… I promise I won’t mention it to anyone, alright? It was kinda cute, actually.” the brunette man joked as he placed his arm around her shoulders, squeezing her tightly against his side in an unexpected moment of bravery.

“Yeah, yeah…” she rolled her eyes lightheartedly and opened the door, only to find the room empty. “Where is everybody?”

“They let about ten minutes or so ago to get ready for dinner.” an older woman explained, as she entered the room to restock the refreshments table for the next day.

“Shit, Alex and I were supposed to share the car we rented for the weekend!” Y/N grunted.

“I was stuck with Z and Cole.” Jack said, checking his phone for any texts or calls letting him know he was on his own. “Unbelievable.”

“Guess I’m calling a cab.” she sighed.

“We can share one if you’d like.” the brunette man offered. “Where are you staying?”

“The mighty Saint John’s. Courtesy of the boss.”

“They really booked us all to stay in the same place, hu? I’ll call for a car.”

The cab didn’t take long to arrive. As the gentleman he was, Jack opened the door for Y/N to climb in, joining her and letting the taxi driver know where they wanted to go. When they got to the hotel, Y/N saw the time on her phone, mumbling something about not being able to get ready on time, tapping her foot impatiently while they waited for the elevator to come down.

Jack chuckled to himself as she checked her watch time and time again while they went up.

“This is not funny, Hughes… I thought we had more time!” she whimpered, just before the familiar ring let them know they had arrived.

“I don’t know why you’re worried about that, you’ll look great even if you have had less time to get ready.” he stated, matter-of-factly when they stepped out into the hall. “I have seen you sweaty, red and disheveled before.”

Y/N scoffed, looking for her room key, hidden somewhere in her purse before halting in front of her door.

“This is me.”

“I’m staying right down the hall. Do you think they managed to book the whole floor?”

“Knowing the boss and how much of a control freak he is, probably, yes. He knows Turc and Z are way too rowdy together and didn’t want to disturb other guests.”

“They did try to drag me out of bed to get pizza at 4 am the last time the three of us where in the same place.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Y/N pondered, turning her back to him to open the door. “Go get ready, unfairly handsome man. We’re supposed to be meeting downstairs in twenty, right?”

Jack simply nodded, taking in the way she had called him handsome once again and waiting until she closed the door behind her to walk down the hall into his own room.

Y/N took a shower, wrapping a towel around her body and rushing back and forth her neat room, looking for the dress and shoes she had packed specifically for that night, laying the satin fabric carefully on the bed before she put on her lingerie.

She heard a knock on the door and hastily grabbed the first thing she found to put on, going to answer it.

“Hey, birdy!” Alex greeted her sheepishly, waltzing into her room in a dark blue suit.

“You look good, Turc.” Y/N smiled, tying the fluffy robe around her body.

“Hey, hey, hey! Is that how you’re going to show up at the benefit? You little rebel, disrespecting the dress code, I like it!” her bubbly friend gushed, sitting down on the bed.

“Haha, very funny! I’m still pissed you left me at camp without saying anything.” she pointed out, turning on the hair dryer, missing Alex’s reply over the noise.

The man got up, grabbing the device from her. “Let me help you with that.”

“Thank you.”

“I see you brought the red dress. Nice!”

“You and your girlfriend did threaten to pinch me really hard if I didn’t.” Y/N snickered, closing her eyes while Alex picked up a brush and the dryer.

“We have our ways…” he shrugged. “So… Are we going to talk about the elephant in the room, or…?”

“What elephant in the room?” the doctor questioned, turning to look at her friend.

“Well, you know, the whole Jack-is-single-and-you-should-totally-take-advantage-of-that situation.”

“Did Trevor set you up to this?”

“Maybe…”

“He just broke up with his girlfriend, Turc. They had been dating for a while, according to the press. He needs to grieve and figure his life out before you nerds try to set him up with someone else, you know that…” she shook her head, looking down at her hands.

“You would make an adorable pair, though… Just putting it out there.” Alex mumbled as he finished tying Y/N’s hair in a low bun, leaving out some strands to frame her face. “Voilà!” he cheered triumphantly, satisfied with his work once he saw a small smile creep up on his friend’s face.

“You do have some weird fairy godparent hands… I trained you well. Can you pass me my make-up from the bedside table, please?”

“Your wishes are my command.” he grinned, handing her the beauty products.

“Thank you so much, Turkey. How late am I, right now?” she asked, spraying her favorite perfume on her neck and the back of her ear, before getting up and picking up her dress.

“You still have time, don’t worry. I’ll go down right now and tell them you’ll be ready in a minute.”

“Just do me one last favor and zip up my dress, please.”

Downstairs, the group had been divided into two, so they could fit into the large taxi vans parked outside. Jack adjusted his suit jacket, looking around the room from time to time, checking if she had come down yet.

Alex walked out of the elevator, smirking once he recognized the disappointed look on the brunette man’s face when he realized he wasn’t the one he was so eagerly waiting for.

“Hey, beauty.” he greeted him.

“Hey, Turc.”

“She’ll be down in a minute.”

“What?” he mumbled, snapping back to reality, having clearly missed the suggestive tone of his voice.

“You don’t fool anyone, Hughesy.” his friend winked, leaving him alone to join Cole by the front desk.

He pretended he didn’t understand what he meant, leaning against the pillar next to the large couches in the main entrance, going through his social media feeds for the tenth time in half an hour. Nothing new.

His older brother had texted him to let him know he had seen the picture Coach had shared and that he “totally approved” but had “dibs” on her since he had known her for longer than he did to which he had replied with a middle finger emoji.

“Finally!” Trevor chanted, throwing his hands up in the air as he approached Jack by the pillar. “I was beginning to think I was going to have to get you ready myself!”

Jack looked up from his phone, being left speechless at the sight of her. He knew she’d look amazing, but he had no idea that, ten years later, she could still knock the wind out of him.

Y/N had chosen a beautiful red A-line dress with a generous square cleavage that accentuated her tiny waist. She could only be described as a fallen angel. He bit down on his bottom lip, clearly too distracted by her beauty to be more subtle about checking her out.

“Okay, beauty, you can breathe now.” Alex came up from behind him, tapping him on the shoulder. “Come on, everybody, Coach Jr. is here. Let’s go.”

At the sound of Alex’s voice, Y/N glanced in their direction, locking eyes with Jack. She smiled softly, scrunching up her nose the way she always did. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

Alex linked arms with Y/N, leading her outside and leaving him standing there, completely dumbfounded.

“Dude, did you just choke?” Trevor asked, trying to hold in a cackle.

“Shut up.”

#jack hughes x reader #jack hughes blurb #jack hughes #jack hughes fanfiction #fanfic #trevor zegras #hockey boys #hockey blurb #team usa #cole caufield #alex turcotte #y/n x jack hughes #hockey

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fizzyxcustard · 6 months

Text

Just My Imagination.

Masterlist of fan fiction

Fandom: Spooks

Pairings: Lucas North x Original Female Character (Amy Holland)

Warnings: Undercover agents, angst, insecurity, anxiety.

Word count: 5725

Summary: From the imagine: "Imagine that you are on an operation with Lucas North, where you have to use a cover story that you’re in a relationship. Only Lucas plays the part a little too well."

Comments/Notes: Requested by anon. Requested as Lucas x Amy. THANK YOU. You know how much I love writing about Lucas and Amy. This piece was requested to be a romantic comedy, but I’m so sorry to say that it wound up just being angsty again.

I hope you like the fic. As always, like, reblog and comment if you enjoy. If you wish to be added to any of my tag lists, let me know.

Operation Greenacre.

Amy looked back over the folder in front of her, memorising all the information inside. Her name while on this operation was Amanda Reynolds, an office assistant in central London at a family law firm. Recently engaged to boyfriend of two years, Ben Waverley, aka Lucas North, her current operation partner.

Amy and Lucas had been given keys to a one-bedroom flat where they would act out their pretend lives, hoping to gather more inside information from their next door neighbours, a couple who were potentially funding terrorists through their charity.

“Are you sure you’re okay to do this?” Lucas asked, hovering at her desk. “If you don’t feel comfortable then tell Harry and we can stand you down.”

“I don’t want to let anyone down,” Amy sighed, giving him an anxious and embarrassed smile. Next to Jo Portman, Amy was the closest in age to Lucas, so could easily pass off as his fiancée. However, Jo was on another operation.

Lucas pulled a chair across from the desk opposite and sat down next to Amy. “Look, you’ve never done this before, and it’s kind of going against procedure here and taking a risk. You don’t have to say yes just to please Harry or to impress anyone. Your safety and wellbeing comes first.”

“But the only other person is Ros.”

“So?” Lucas asked, raising his eyebrows. “Ros and I have had cover stories before where we’ve been in a relationship. We can easily make it work.”

Amy looked at Lucas and felt the butterflies flap more viciously in her stomach. The man was gorgeous, and in Amy’s mind her being seen as his fiancée was even more inconceivable than Ros taking the place. Ros Myers had the confidence and grace that Amy didn’t. Amy was of short stature, more curvaceous, with short dark hair and what she considered more ‘plain’ features. While Amy had proven herself as a damn good analyst and office based intel officer, her confidence waned when venturing into new situations, or when in the company of Lucas.

Near the end of Lucas’ shift, he tapped on Harry’s door.

Harry Pearce, government renowned intelligence officer and senior lead of Section D, raised his head. “Yes, Lucas. Come in.”

Lucas closed the door behind himself and sat down opposite the middle aged man. “I want to talk to you about Operation Greenacre. I don’t think Amy is ready, Harry. I’ve got a feeling that she’s accepted this to try and prove herself to you.”

“Is this because you’re concerned about having to watch out for her, or a genuine interest in her safety?”

“I can’t believe you’d ask me that question,” Lucas scoffed. “I’m worried for her, not me. She’s not ready for field work. Can we just ask Ros to do it?”

“Lucas, Amy has already agreed to this and your documentation is being processed. I can’t stop this from going ahead, and Ros has, as of this afternoon, been put onto Op Hickory. I trust that you’ll be able to help her; the two of you seem to work well together and there’s something about the way she interacts with you. There’s an ease and a trust I sense.”

“I’m not questioning how we work together. I’ve always got on very well with her.”

Harry saw a very faint blush hit Lucas’ cheeks, which was quite rare for him. Not much seemed to faze him, but this conversation appeared to be bringing out the very first signs that Lucas may have been holding a secret close to his heart.

Amy woke early the next morning and rolled over to see that it was quarter to five. She had only gotten a couple of hours sleep, sporadic through the night. Her mind was ablaze with all the details of her new life she was about to live.

Amanda Reynolds. Thirty one years of age. Born in Manchester. Older brother named Thomas. Fiancee of Ben Waverley. A gorgeous man like him wouldn’t ever be interested in someone like me….

The thoughts had trailed off many times, departing from the facts she had to memorise. All she could think about was how appearing engaged to Lucas would seem so far-fetched. She had even looked upon the engagement ring many times, wishing that it was all for real. What an absolutely stupid dream. This woman that she was pretending to be, Amanda Reynolds, had a better life than she had ever had.

At around half seven, after showering, pacing her flat with podcasts playing in her ears, Amy heard her front door buzzer sound. It couldn’t have been the postman, as he normally left all mail in the boxes in the lobby. Deliveries weren’t usually this early.

Amy clicked the intercom. “Hello?”

“It’s Lucas.”

Just his voice was like a wave of pleasurable electricity. It ran down her spine and made her smile. “I’ll let you in.”

As Amy opened her door, she saw Lucas walking up the hallway. He was dressed in blue jeans and a black shirt, with the top two buttons opened. He held something in his hands.

“I hope you haven’t had breakfast yet, Aim,” he said softly.

“I thought we were meeting at nine, at the flat,” Amy said stupidly.

“I just thought you might like to have a bit of food first and relax a bit.”

Amy let Lucas into her flat, feeling the familiar flutter of nerves begin to descend.

“Malcolm has organised the moving van this morning, so a lot of the stuff should be there when we arrive later,” Amy told Lucas, stepping into the kitchen, with him just behind.

“Come and sit down for a bit and don’t think about the op. Relax and take your mind off it.”

Amy looked down at the brown paper bag on the counter and then back up at Lucas, feeling something in her chest, an ache that she had never quite felt before. Not only was he gorgeous, but kind. He actually saw her, and made her feel like she mattered. Or was this purely to try and help her feel more confident to better the outcome of the op? A method of getting the best out of her.

“Did you manage to get that sketch completed?” Lucas asked, taking a large bite out of a croissant.

“Oh, I didn’t think you’d remember that,” Amy said. Only a few days earlier and Amy had been sketching a photo of her nephew at her desk in work. It was a gift that she wanted to give to her sister for her birthday.

By the time that Amy and Lucas had made it to the flat where they would be spending at least the next couple of weeks, Amy felt a little more at ease. The two of them greeted the moving men.

Every now and again, Amy would catch a glimpse of a shimmer of rainbow colours from the corner of her eye, as the sun caught the diamond on her left hand.

It all felt natural as Amy and Lucas began putting items away after unpacking boxes. However, it all changed, when a tall red-headed woman came to their open door. She tapped on it and stepped over the threshold and into the living room. “Hello?”

“It’s okay,” Lucas whispered to Amy as they remained together in the bedroom, still opening boxes. “You’ll be fine. I’ll be with you in a minute.” Then he winked at her, watching as her startled face disappeared out of view.

“Morning,” Amy said, her face beaming at the sight of the redhead. “I’m guessing you’re a neighbour?”

“I am. I’m Pamela from next door, at number five. I heard we were getting new neighbours. It’s been so long since anyone has lived here, and I was starting to wonder if they’d ever find tenants.”

Amy chuckled nervously. “I’m Amanda. My fiancée Ben is still in the bedroom trying to put the bed back together, so he should be out in a bit.”

On cue, just as Amy spoke those last words, Lucas appeared and approached. He curled his arm around Amy’s waist and drew her in against him. “Hi, I’m Ben. I hate moving. It makes me do some DIY which is one of my pet hates.”

As Lucas spoke, Amy was sure that she could feel Lucas’ fingers moving in an almost circular motion against her waist. She could feel heat rising up her body at the sensation of being in such close proximity of him.

“Is that a diamond I see?” Pamela asked, her dark eyes growing bright.

Amy raised her hand to show her new neighbour. “We’ve been engaged about two months now.”

Lucas pulled Amy that tad closer as she spoke, feeling a deep warmth rise upward and fill him. Without even thinking, he placed a kiss on her temple. Her skin was so soft under his lips and he could smell strawberries, no doubt from her shampoo.

“You’ll have to come over for dinner tomorrow,” Pamela offered. “We always enjoy hosting dinners for our neighbours. Ted is ever the showman.”

“That sounds lovely,” Amy said, her voice ever so slightly teetering on the edge of nervousness. She could feel the change in her voice now that Lucas was touching her.

“I’ll let you both get back to it. I’ll see you around no doubt.”

As Pamela disappeared into her front door, Amy immediately pulled from Lucas. She turned away from him and dashed away into the kitchen, where she flicked on the kettle for a drink. Her heart was pounding in her chest and she could feel her legs shaking. For a few seconds, she watched out of the window, focusing on the clouds and took a deep breath.

“Are you okay?” Lucas asked. “You did well, Aim.”

“Yeah, I’m okay. Just a little flustered, that’s all.”

The rest of the day was fairly lowkey, with Amy and Lucas putting the belongings away, which hopefully wouldn’t be needed for too long. At the briefing, Harry and Lucas had explained that they hoped that the undercover part of the op wouldn’t be any more than two or three weeks. Most of it hinged on Lucas being able to wind his way into Ted Delaney’s trust and gain any hints as to his reasoning and motives for working alongside terrorists.

At around six there was a sharp knock at the door.

Lucas opened the door, only to see Ted Delaney in front of him. Positive ID made from all the documentation that had been gathered prior to the undercover portion of the op going live.

“I’m Ted from next door. Pam told me you’d moved in and that she’d invited you to dinner tomorrow. Thought I’d come over and extend my welcomes to you both.”

Ted Delany was a man who was easily in his mid-fifties. His greying hair was swept back and oiled, and his grey eyes were piercing. His clothing showed that he had money and position: a well-tailored navy suit and shined shoes.

“Would you like a drink with us?” Lucas asked.

“Sure,” Ted said, flashing a broad smile.

Lucas immediately approached the whiskey and vodka bottles that were neatly placed out on a small table next to a large bookcase.

Amy could hear faint chatter as she remained in the bedroom. For a second, she stood with her back to the wall, took a deep breath and then exited.

“Hey, babe,” Lucas said, seeing Amy. ‘Babe’ somehow felt wrong in his mouth, and he hoped that to Delaney the word didn’t come across too alien. “This is Ted from next door.”

“Ted, this is Amanda. The love of my life and wife-to-be.”

I think that may be a bit too much, Lucas. Amy mused.

Amy sat down on the black leather sofa which was opposite a matching armchair, where Ted had perched himself.

Lucas handed the glass of whiskey to Ted and then placed himself down next to Amy. His hand rested on her thigh, again doing that circular motion with his fingers. He looked at Amy, passing her a glance. “Do you want me to get you anything from the kitchen?”

“You’re missing out on the good stuff, love,” Ted said with a hearty chuckle and raised his glass in the air.

“No, I’m fine, thank you,” Amy replied. “I’ve never been able to hand alcohol particularly well. It just doesn’t sit well with me.”

“I remember when we first met, and she tried to impress me by drinking a couple of pints,” Lucas said. “She’s always tried to impress me when there’s no need to. She’s perfect the way she is.” Lucas, on instinct, squeezed her leg.

Amy felt a rod of red hot head swarm in her head, as if angry wasps were buzzing there. “I always felt I was out of your league, Ben, you know that.”

“Pam was always like that with me, too. Some women might seem like they have confidence, but deep down they don’t, and feel they need to be something they’re not. In fact, they’ve always been the apple of your eye from the very beginning.”

Lucas chuckled. “That’s definitely always been the way with her. She doesn’t see how amazing she is.”

Ted only stayed for approximately twenty minutes, before leaving Amy and Lucas for the night. There was a silence that had grown between them both now, and as Lucas remained in the living room, Amy sat in the kitchen with a mug of tea between her arms, which were resting on the table.

“Aim, what’s wrong?” Lucas asked, finally following her into the kitchen. “You’ve been quiet since Delaney left. Is it making you uncomfortable?”

Lucas looked down at the table to see the engagement ring. It was in the centre of the table, not on Amy’s hand where it should have been for the op.

“I can’t wear it, Lucas,” Amy said softly. “Not when it’s not real. I can’t close the door and still have it on my hand. It’s bad enough having to have you touch me.”

“Amy…”

“It doesn’t matter what I think. We see this op through and then go back to the grid and get on with things.”

Lucas lay on the sofa, while Amy had the bed, and thought on her words. It’s bad enough having you touch me. Was she disgusted by him? That very thought made his jaw clench and an ache rise in his chest. That was why she had dashed from him when Pamela had been at their door; Amy found him disgusting and couldn’t stand him touching her. And that touch had been real, so real in Lucas’ mind. To hold Amy next to him had felt like everything was perfect, and nothing was an act. The kiss on her temple...that was all from Lucas’ heart.

Amy tossed in bed, replaying the events. The way Lucas had touched her, and those words. They seemed to be somehow as though he was telling her, behind a mask of someone else, that…. Of course he wasn’t!

Lucas is good at his job. He’s done this so many times before and played the part well to get what’s needed for the case and then move on. Nothing is different about this operation whatsoever. It’s just my imagination.

Being in a different bed meant that Amy couldn’t quite get comfortable in the bed, and would keep peering out of one eye at the clock on the bedside table. The bed was big, enough space for her to roll around, but it reminded her of how isolated she felt. Cut off. Unwanted.

It was just after four ‘o’ clock and Amy knew she wouldn’t sleep any more that night. It was like the night before, just a couple of hours made up of half hour dozing phases. A dull thump was already starting up behind her eyes. As Amy pulled herself out of bed, she heard the whishing of blood in her ears.

She staggered out of the room and across the living room, heading for the kitchen. There, on the sofa, sprawled out was Lucas. He was on his back, mouth wide open. The patchwork quilt had fallen off him, so Amy tottered over to him, and placed the quilt back over his sleeping form. He twitched as the quilt touched him, let out a loud snore, and then rolled over.

Amy made a cup of herbal tea and sat in the kitchen, her eyes stinging and head thumping. It seemed as if Lucas slept easily, not worrying about the operation and certainly not about the tension that had risen between them. Was it only Amy that sensed any kind of tension? She was starting to assume it was.

By the time it had turned half six, Amy got dressed into a fresh strip of clothing, choosing jeans and a frilled white blouse: the attire of Amanda Reynolds. Amy Holland, MI5 analyst, would have opted for jeans and a rock band T-shirt with a waistcoat, or a bright coloured hoodie. Sophistication wasn’t something that Amy felt she had.

The streets were fairly quiet and Amy slipped into a café, ordering two bagels and two Americano coffees. Then she walked back to the flat, feeling that she could finally find a sense of peace out in the chilled mid-March air.

By the time Amy got back to the flat, she walked in to find that Lucas had vacated the sofa. She could hear the splashing of bathwater and an offkey singing voice coming from the bathroom.

Amy giggled and placed the breakfasts down on the coffee table in the living room, waiting for Lucas to re-appear.

When he finally made an appearance, Lucas sauntered over to the sofa and sat down, leaving a gap between Amy and himself.

“I hope you like bagels,” Amy said, giving a smile. “You brought breakfast yesterday so it’s only fair I do so today.”

***

Amy ventured out the flat after breakfast, deciding to get out of Lucas’ way for a few hours. The cover story was that Amanda and Ben were on annual leave for a week while they moved into their new property. Ben, being the owner of his own accountancy firm, had left the company in the capable hands of his best friend, and co-director, Patrick Lange. If any kind of phone call was needed to or from Patrick, Tariq had been asked to step in and lend his vocal skills.

First off, Amy sat down in a coffee shop and watched people wander past the window; tourists, residents. Some of them she could tell immediately as residents of London, carrying briefcases or dressed sharp for an upcoming meetings. Tourists tended to walk slower, some with cameras around their necks, and gazed around in excitement and wonder.

Her phone chimed. Well, Amanda’s phone. It was one of the many iPhones that were kept on the Grid specifically for operations, with disposable SIM cards.

Ben: Are you sure you’re okay? You didn’t seem yourself this morning. Love you. Xxx

Of course all text messages had be sent in character, in case the devices were ever compromised. No personal devices were allowed. One very basic Nokia 3310 model was kept in order to report back to Harry in case any challenges occurred, and that was in Lucas’ possession.

Amanda: Yes, I’m fine, sweetie. I’ll be back later.  xx

Sweetie. Acting out this whole made-up scenario was angering Amy.

Amy continued on walking, disappearing in and out of shops. All of the money she had was in physical cash. No personal credit and debit cards were to be used while on operation. Every aspect of who she really was had been erased. For the next two or three weeks, Amy Holland didn’t exist. When she looked into a mirror, Amanda Reynolds looked back. Amy could imagine the reflection smirking at her, the diamond sparkling so brightly on her left hand, with Ben’s arm wrapped around her. Ben’s steel blue eyes looking back, his nose wrinkled in disgust at the mere sight of Amy.

Like I’d ever look at you twice.

Back at the flat, Lucas put more items away, concentrating on the kitchenware. However, his mind couldn’t stop spiralling into thoughts of Amy. She was confusing him and it was twisting his gut so tight. Suddenly he got up from the tiled floor, where he had been putting pots and pans into the cupboards, and called her.

“Amanda?” he asked.

“Ben,” she replied matter-of-factly.

“Are you alone?” he asked.

“No one is directly around me.”

“We need to talk on neutral ground.”

“Please, no. We can talk when I get back.”

“We have to be careful as we can be compromised, you know that.”

“I’m on my way back now. We’ll talk more after the dinner. I’ll be back in about half hour.”

The line then went quiet as Amy terminated the call.

Lucas sighed in frustration. In all the months that he had known Amy, which was almost a year, he had never known her be so aloof. She was naturally a shier person, but he had never known her react like this.

Amy got back to the flat within the half hour that she had promised. She stepped into the living room to see Lucas sat on the sofa. The gorgeous bastard looked up at her and smiled sadly.

“After the dinner, we’ll go for a walk,” she proposed.

***

Amy and Lucas prepared themselves for the dinner with their new neighbours at around six.

Lucas was dressed in a black suit jacket and white shirt, with the top two buttons popped open. It was complimented nicely with a pair of dark jeans, giving a casual edge.

Amy stepped out of the bedroom, her short pixie cut freshly washed and neatly brushed. She wore a black dress with frills on the wrist, and paired with black dolly shoes. Her whole look was sophistication mixed with a sense of comfort.

As Lucas looked at her, he swallowed hard. She was wearing a dark eyeshadow and mascara which accented her deep green eyes perfectly. He could sense her discomfort at the get-up, knowing that this wasn’t her usual style, but he couldn’t help feel it suited her so well.

Amy tried to avoid eye contact and made her way to the door in silence.

Lucas followed on behind, feeling his stomach twist yet again at her distance from him. He grabbed a bottle of wine from the table by the door, and then closed it behind them.

Pam was the one to answer the door. She grinned at her new neighbours and let them in. “Take a seat. Dinner won’t be too long now. I’m preparing smoked salmon, topped in my special sauce. Chef’s secret as to the recipe. Everyone who has ever tried it has raved over it.”

“Good man!” Ted exclaimed, taking the bottle of red wine from Lucas. “Priorities.”

Amy glanced around the living room, noticing that there was far less in it than hers and Lucas’ temporary abode. The flooring was wooden, and the lights bright. Everything felt too clean and sterile for Amy’s liking. She sat down on a black leather sofa, and then tensed as Lucas perched beside her. He took her hand and rested it on his knee, then caught her gaze and smiled, giving her a very slight nod.

“So, how did you two meet?” Pam asked, preparing glasses as Ted popped open the wine bottle.

“Do you want a coffee? You said last night you don’t drink,” Ted asked Amy, interjecting himself into the conversation before anyone else could speak.

“Oh, yes, please. That would be perfect,” she replied with a grateful smile.

Lucas began to talk, still holding Amy’s hand. He rolled out the spiel that he and Amy had been given as part of their briefing pack. Amanda and Ben had met through mutual friends at a Christmas party.

The words rolled effortlessly off Lucas’ tongue, Amy mused. And how she wished all of it was true. To be loved, wanted, proposed to, lived with. She desperately wanted it all. Life was cruel. Rather than be dealt such a lucky hand, she instead had to act it all out, pretend, and live behind a happy mask, where her heart beneath was breaking.

“You definitely struck lucky, love,” Pam told Amy with a wink.

The conversation between Lucas and Ted seemed to flow without much thought. However, Lucas’ hand moving up Amy’s thigh, curling further into the inside of her leg.

Shivers began to race up Amy’s spine as she felt his fingers caress her skin through her thin tights.

Most of the conversation seemed to merge into a mindless chatter as Amy concentrated on Lucas’ hand on her leg. She studied the veins in the back of his hand, which then caused images of him touching her in more intimate places to flicker through her mind.

By the time that dinner was ready and the group had moved into the dining room, which again was a sterile looking room, Lucas had finally got onto the topic of conversation that he needed: Ted’s work.

The table was only small, considering that the flat was large. It gave way for more kitchen space and cabinets. This meant that Amy was sat directly next to Lucas again, with Pam and Ted opposite them.

“How long have you owned the charity, Ted?” Lucas asked, slipping into his seat.

Ted began to answer while Pam laid out all the dishes in the centre of the table, her hands covered in oven gloves. “The charity was actually started by my father, who died five years ago, so it was handed down to me. He always spent his life helping disadvantaged children; it was all he cared about.” Something flickered across Ted’s face. Resentment, anger? Lucas couldn’t quite tell. But maybe that was where he could probe further.

“Are you alright, love?” Pam asked, sitting down directly opposite Amy. “You look a bit pale.”

“It’s probably the new foundation I’m using. I decided to try a lighter colour as the one before, by Clinique was too dark.” Where had that response come from? Maybe Amy wasn’t quite as bad at this acting while undercover thing as she had originally thought. Suddenly she felt something on her leg and jumped. Thankfully, Pam had started talking to Lucas and Ted again, so none of them noticed her jump. Why was Lucas touching her leg? Their lower halves were concealed beneath the table, which meant he didn’t have to touch her in order for anyone to believe they were lovers.

While Amy eat her meal, she couldn’t stop thinking about Lucas’ hand coming back to her leg.

“So, how did you choose to propose?” Pam asked, grinning. “I always adore love stories.”

Lucas blushed and then looked at Amy, catching her gaze. Then, he touched her leg again. Only this time, Amy didn’t flinch. In fact, upon instinct, she leaned her leg into his touch. “I just knew that I couldn’t live without her in my life. I wanted to wake up next to her, have kids with her. Cliché, I know. So I took her away for Christmas, to New York where she’d always wanted to go, and proposed in front of the Statue of Liberty.” His eyes were still locked on hers as he spoke.

A sudden wave of nausea hit Amy and she leaned to the side, away from Lucas.

“Are you okay, babe?” Lucas asked. “She’s been like this on and off the last couple of days.”

Pam’s bright blue eyes lit up in excitement. “Maybe it’s the pitter patter of tiny feet.”

“I’m going to have to head back to the flat. I’m so sorry to both of you,” Amy said, bolting up from her seat.

Lucas got up beside her and wound his arm around her waist. “Sorry to leave so abruptly, but she comes first.”

“Of course,” Ted chuckled. “We’ll have to re-schedule for a better time.”

Amy and Lucas bid their farewells to their guests and head back to the flat. Amy dashed inside and raced to the bathroom, slamming the door. Rather than vomiting, she got to her knees on the floor and felt the tears of sadness roll down her cheeks.

The door opened and Lucas stepped inside. He looked down as she sobbed and fell to his knees beside her. “Aim, what’s wrong?” he whispered. “You’re scaring me.”

“You don’t have to keep the act going, Lucas,” she snapped, glaring at him. “Pam and Ted aren’t here.”

“Get dressed into something more comfortable and warmer. We’ll go for a walk,” Lucas said, his voice becoming authoritative.

“I don’t want…”

“While we’re on this operation, I’m the senior officer. Please get changed and we’ll go for a walk.” Lucas felt a stab of shame as he spoke those words, knowing he was using his own position for gain, but he needed to know what was happening. Her behaviour was becoming more erratic. Not only was she worrying him for her wellbeing, but if she continued to act like this then the op would be compromised.

Fuck the operation! I care more about her.

Fifteen minutes later and Amy walked beside Lucas, the darkness and cold evening air wrapping tight around them. Once they were a few streets away from the flat, Amy and Lucas sat down on a bench in a small park.

“You really are scaring me, Amy. What’s wrong?” he asked quietly. “This is me asking because I care for your wellbeing. It’s not an act.” The word ‘act’ dripped with anger. He noticed that, yet again, she��d taken the engagement ring off.

Amy noticed him look at her hand. “I can’t wear that ring, Lucas. Please don’t make me wear it when I don’t have to.”

“We’re on surveillance and undercover twenty-four seven with this operation. You shouldn’t take it on and off when you please like this. This goes deeper than that, Aim. I know you hate me touching you, and I’m sorry I have to do it.”

“I know it’s all an act for the op, Lucas. Don’t apologise.”

“Is it all an act?” he asked. His gaze locked on Amy’s. “I know I shouldn’t have touched you under the table. There was no need for that. The truth is, none of this has been an act for me.”

Amy’s eyes were wide in shock and sadness as she stared at him. “It’s not just my imagination?” she whispered.

“No,” Lucas replied with a smile. “And when you said about not wanting me to touch you…”

“I didn’t mean that I didn’t want you to touch me. It’s I…I’ve liked you for a while Lucas, and it was getting too much. Playing it all like a game when deep down it’s something I want. I’m living another woman’s life that I want.”

Lucas slipped closer to Amy and cupped her cheek with his hand. “Is it me or Ben Waverley that you want?”

“Of course it’s you I want.” Amy replied, her face broad with a huge smile.

Lucas moved even closer to her still, until their lips touched. The kiss started as a simple peck, a moment of uncertainty, but Amy’s hand tugging Lucas’ jacket spurred him on. The kiss grew deeper, their tongues meeting and warmth rising.

As they both parted, Lucas smiled upon the slight of Amy’s beautiful flushed cheeks. She looked so innocent and angelic in those moments; her eyes sparkling in happiness, her cheeks flushed and her lips plump.

“Does this mean that if you want Amanda’s life that you’re planning on leaving MI5?” Lucas chuckled. “Pack up and go work as a solicitor’s secretary. We’d miss you.”

“Maybe I don’t want that part of her life.”

“If we do this, Aim, and have a relationship, we won’t be put together undercover again, you know that, don’t you?” Lucas asked. “Harry can’t risk any compromise. We’d be a weakness to each other.”

“Maybe on this op we can draw strength from each other. It’ll definitely make the act easier to keep up.”

Lucas and Amy walked back to the flat hand in hand. The whole time and Amy was beaming, unable to hide the happiness she was feeling in those moments. Her gaze would drift down to their joined hands every few minutes.

Back at the flat, Lucas let Amy in ahead of himself, his hand brushing against her lower back. He followed on behind her and closed the door. The way she turned to face him and looked up smiling, her cheeks still flushed, made his heart skip and his stomach flutter. She was so beautiful, with innocence shining brightly in her eyes and love curling her lips upwards.

Lucas stepped forward and wound his arm around her waist, drawing her in and then leaned down to kiss her again.

Their kiss grew hot very quickly, with their bodies entwining.

Amy opened her eyes slowly, looking up into the silver blue depths of Lucas’ gaze. That all too familiar smirk began to form in the corner of his mouth.

Amy slipped out of his hold and walked slowly into the kitchen, looking down at the table. The engagement ring was still in the centre where she had left it.

Lucas moved around her and picked up the ring. Then he gently lifted her left hand. “I know you don’t want to wear it, Aim, but please do this for me.”

With a sigh, Amy watched as Lucas slid the diamond solitaire ring onto her hand. It felt as though the ring had been sized perfectly and belonged there. “Maybe one day I’ll have someone doing it for real.”

Lucas smiled sadly, feeling a lump form in his throat. Words swarmed in Lucas’ mind. Just one sentence to respond to Amy’s sad comment. But the right one would not come. Instead, he remained quiet. Perhaps one day it might have been him putting a ring on her hand, and meaning it. However, for now, he would have to wait and see, and hope for that future to come.

***

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#Lucas North #Spooks #MI5 #Richard Armitage #Fanfic #Lucas North x OFC #Lucas North x OC

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soapskneebrace · 1 year

Text

NSFW Alphabet — John “Soap” MacTavish

I know there’s one or two of these floating around already, but honestly there always needs to be more Soap.

Pairing: Johnny “Soap” MacTavish x AFAB Reader

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: None

Now on AO3!

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

The thing about Johnny that you will notice very, very quickly, once you begin sleeping together, is this: he falls in love just a little bit more with you every. Single. Time. It’s obvious, and it can even get nauseating, if you’re not an especially affectionate person, but it’s hard to truly be annoyed at the way he grins at you after, glowing with sweat like a Greek god and looking at you like he found the stars in your eyes. “I always think it couldn’t get any better,” he’s said to you more than once, “and I’m always wrong, hen.”

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

On himself, It’s a tie between his mohawk (of course it counts! he would insist) and his arms. He knows he’s in great shape, and he knows he stands out, and that’s exactly the way he likes it. It caught your attention, didn’t it? When it comes to your body, though, it’s hands down your thighs. And your ass. Your legs are great, too, and what kind of a man would he be if he didn’t mention those tits? Suffice to say, whatever part of you he has his hands on at that moment is his favorite part.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Remember that thing about Johnny being in great shape? Yeah, it means when he comes, he comes. It will surprise you more than once, how much volume he can produce. What’s more, he’s got a short refractory period before he’s absolutely ready to go again, so you get used to getting messy pretty quick. And oh, does he like you messy.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He’s not a habitual panty thief, but…when he knows you’re going to be separated for a long time, somehow a pair from the laundry makes it into his pocket. When he finds a rare moment alone with only himself, his hand, and his cock, he can finish in minutes with the scent of you pressed up against his nose. It isn’t nearly as good as having his face buried in your pussy, but for a quick moment, it’s enough.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Soap’s got experience in spades. He’s always had an easy confidence that has drawn people into his orbit, and sex has always been a positive outlet for him. Regardless of how any relationship or liaison has ended, no one is really ever able to complain about his enthusiasm in the bedroom. Or against a wall. Or over a desk. Or…

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Any position that has you pressed up against as much of his body as possible belongs to his list of favorites. He doesn’t know the vocabulary, doesn’t really care what’s vanilla or what’s kink—he just wants to feel you, and feel the way he makes you feel. He’ll wrap himself around you almost like a blanket, and treat any empty space between you like it’s free real estate.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous?)

Johnny loves to keep it light, loves when there’s smiling and laughter in his bed. He especially loves making you laugh while he has his mouth between your thighs, because hearing a giggle cut off with a sharp gasp or a long, drawn out “ohhh” as he drags the wedge of his tongue through your folds makes him ache so, so good. Sometimes, though, when an op has gone wrong, or too many people have gotten hurt, it’s intense, and desperately passionate, and his penchant for holding you close becomes a death grip. Both can and have happened in your shared bedroom.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes?)

He doesn’t have much time or care for shaving, but honestly, it would be a shame if he did. He is delightfully hairy, his chest soft and downy with the stuff, and a downright beautiful happy trail leading to gorgeous curls that frame the base of his cock. And for the record, he’s got zero issue with your body hair, too.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? The romantic aspect)

Tooth-rottingly romantic. You’ve accused him of it several times. Johnny likes fucking, a lot, and inevitably it will feel like making love. He doesn’t use rose petals or candles, or even many words—but he spreads his hands out against your skin, touches and strokes you like it helps him breathe. That, and he won’t. Stop. Kissing you.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Sometimes his hand is all he has, but if you’re within driving distance he can wait. If you’re not, he tries to grip his cock as tightly as your pussy does, tries to fuck himself with his hand as thoroughly as he fucks you. That is, as long as no one can walk in and interrupt him. (Poor Gaz. The guy might never recover.)

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

He really, really likes the idea of you all tied up and at his mercy. Johnny isn’t a sadist, but having cart blanche to do whatever he wants and you can’t push him away? If you let him do it, you’ll realize somewhere after your third orgasm, when the pleasure has just started to sting a bit, that he’s really only getting started.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

A bed is always nice, but Soap isn’t picky, and a bed isn’t always available. Standing, having you up against a wall with only your legs wrapped around his waist to keep yourself up as he drills his hips up into you is never going to lose its charm. Also, he’s really torn on what, geographically, he prefers. A warm climate has you both hot, slippery with sweat, and a little freer to kick the covers off of the bed, but a cold climate means you’re burrowing as much into him as he is into you.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

When it’s you, it’s everything, but some things stand out: a satisfied smile, a confident attitude, a certain way you toss your hair, and he wants you NOW. That isn’t to say he doesn’t like when you make an effort to be sexy, when you clean up and wear something that really flatters your body—that stuff definitely does it for him. It just ends up being the little things that are the most inspiring.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Johnny doesn’t like tears, and he doesn’t want to drag them out of you in bed, the ONLY exception being if they’re happy ones. Nor does he want guns, knives, or any other weapon in his bedroom. And while he likes messing you up with his sweat and his saliva and his semen, those are the only bodily materials of his that he wants anywhere near you.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill)

Johnny. Has. An. Oral. FIXATION. It would be extremely accurate to call it an obsession. He’d eat you out breakfast, lunch, and dinner if you’d let him, and always, always has his mouth on you somewhere when you’re having sex. He likes getting blown as much as anyone would, but he knows how to make your toes curl and your hands fist the sheets using only his lips, teeth, and tongue, and there’s no feeling like that in the world.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual?)

Given the opportunity, Soap likes to take his time. Sex, after all, has always been a comfort for him, has always been worth savoring, and when it’s with you? You’re going to be in bed for a long time. As for tempo—he knows when to slow down, when to drag out a feeling so you both can luxuriate in it, but he also knows that sometimes you both just need him to pound the breath out of you.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Quickies are not Johnny’s favorite, but he isn’t opposed to them per se. Really, they’re an appetizer for him, so expect him to steal you away at the first available moment to finish what he feels only just got started. Sometimes though, there are no available moments, and he’s been left cranky and wanting for you on more than one occasion.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? Do they take risks?)

“Define risk,” he would say, because his job involves a truly staggering amount of it. He isn’t going to fuck you in an active war zone. He isn’t going to fuck you in the lull of a firefight. But a broom closet? Over Price’s desk? If he has the chance, he’ll take it, as long as you’re game. It’s all a part of the fun.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)

Oh, Johnny. He’s in excellent shape, remember? Three or four rounds in one go is almost the norm for him, but he’ll tell you every time that it’s all you. You make him crazy, and he can’t help it that the way you shudder and shake in his arms only makes him harder. Johnny is the kind of man whose arousal is both spontaneous and responsive; when he wants you, he wants you, but if you’re as keen as he is, the feedback loop is insane.

T = Toys (do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or on themself?)

Johnny tried a cock ring for the first time in maybe his second steady relationship? And to this day it’s been his favorite toy. It doesn’t show up too often in the bedroom, messing with his dick too much is something he’s extremely conscientious about, but when he takes it out you need to be prepared for something that is going to leave you unable to walk.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He’s a giver, through and through, but he also knows delayed gratification can make a climax that much bigger. “Do you need it yet, hen?” he’ll croon, hips rolling into yours, cock stuffed inside you to the hilt. “Do you need me to let you come?” Honestly, he’s a little too cocky about how well he can wind you up.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make)

Soap doesn’t know how to shut up. He is embarrassed by absolutely none of the sounds that make it out of his mouth, not the deep, throaty groans or the higher-pitched, rapid pants he makes when he’s about to come apart. He’s very insistent, too, that you make as much noise for him as you’re moved to—your joined voices are just another one of those things that keeps him going.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He’s considered, on more than one occasion, for many years now, getting a couple of Dydoe piercings. He’s this close to getting them. The only thing that stops him is the aforementioned concern for messing with his dick too much, but he also probably hasn’t figured out yet that he can just google if piercings will make it difficult for him to get and stay hard. And lucky you, you get to be the one to point that out.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Soap’s length is quite nice, just about 6” fully erect, but his girth is what’s most exciting. He’s thick, and thickest at the middle, with a couple of prominent veins that he really likes you to trace with your tongue or the tips of your fingers. As mentioned earlier, his pubic hair is very pretty, dark and curly and neither too sparse nor too thick. Don’t tell him how much you like his dick too often. He likes it too much already.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

If it’s on offer, he’d like sex at least once a day. There is nothing like sinking into your body that can relax and center him quite the same way. Soap loves holding you, loves touching you, loves hearing your voice and loves feeling your body move, and can’t seem to ever get enough.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Don’t judge him too much. After all, he’s just worked very, very hard for you. You both have just enough time to mop up with a clean towel before he’s out, but he looks at you with big glittering eyes every time he lays back down, and you know he wants you to stay, to fall asleep right beside him. If you’re not sleepy (although honestly, how wouldn’t you be), he still wants you next to him, and in the middle of a book or some fluffy YouTubing or whatever it is you do afterwords, he always reaches for you. Always. Sex with Johnny means he falls in love with you a little bit more every time, and Johnny’s love wants to hold you close as much as he can.

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kortsitron · 1 year

Text

Rough

Pairing: Ramattra × TransMale! Reader

Warnings: smut, size kink, voice kink, porn with not much plot, post top surgery reader, pre op reader, fingering, ligh dom/sub

Summary: You teased Ramattra just the right amount to get what you wanted in the first place

MINORS DNI!

Author’s Note: Since Ramattra came out, I've noticed that there are already smut one shots with him and most of them had fem reader (if not all, maybe there was one with gender neutral reader, but i'm not sure), so I kinda wanted to write something for trans dudes cuz why nah. Little thing for you to know, I haven't wrote smut for such a long time, (last time wasn't good, it was a disaster lol) so let's hope this one is gonna be good. If it's going to be posted, then I think it's good enough. If you wanna, you can leave some tips in the comments.

Also about the other smuts, I kinda got inspired by them, so if I wrote one, I might be inspired by your work! ^^

"Could you be more careful?!" Ramattra barked, feeling something like shiver, going down his back. He wiggled a bit in the chair he was sitting in, causing you to smirk.

"You've been through worse, stop complaining." Omnic heard you chuckle, while you were repairing his back.

Normally Ramattra wouldn't let a human repair him, but when he decided to go to Shambali Monastery to meet with his brother, he had no choice. You were the only person who could repair him in Monastery, especially in places he couldn't reach himself easily. So after Zenyatta finally made him come to you, he wasn't very happy about it, especially after he had to come to your house, due to the fact your workshop was already closed. He was sitting in your office, hoping it would be quick, but it felt like hours for him. He couldn't stand your cocky attitude and your flirty comments toward him, he wasn't very fond of them.

"Has anyone told you that you have a gorgeous voice box?" You couldn't help yourself. You didn't think you could be so attracted to an omnic, but there you were, trying not to show that Ramattra was making you feel certain ways.

"I'm not sure what you're trying to get with your flirtatious comments, but they're not going to work on me." He crossed his arms together, looking around, trying to distract himself. He really didn't want to give in, especially with a human. He could see where this was going, but he tried to stop it.

You turned him around on the chair, making him look at you. "Oh really?" You chuckled again, but this time more softly. "Maybe you're scared because you've never been with a human?" He stood up quickly, clearly annoyed. That was the moment you actually realized how tall he was compared to you. "Are humans always this irritating and dirty minded!?" He asked with a serious tone. Hearing him speak was slowly driving you crazy, you didn't think you ever met an omnic with such a remarkable voice.

"They might be annoying when they're needy." You explained with a low voice, while your hand wandered to his ribs, giving them a light touches. "So that's how you want to play, huh?" You smirked again at his question, nodding slightly. "Want me to show you where the bedroom is?"

"There's no need to. Your office will be just fine." Ramattra answered, before grabbing you and almost throwing you on your desk. Before you could react, he grabbed you by the face and spoke again. "You started a game, you're not going to win, but I am no monster. If you want me to stop I will, but until then we're playing by my rules. Do you understand?" You nodded, but that didn't seem to satisfy him. "I said, do you understand?" He brought your face closer to his, causing you to yelp. "Yes, Ramattra, I understand."

If he could smirk, you know he would. You could tell that he was satisfied with how obedient you suddenly became.

Without wasting any more time, Ramattra started taking off your clothes, leaving you naked before him. His hand wandered around your body, causing you to shiver at the sudden contact between his cold metal hands and your soft and warm skin. Omnic was checking for the spots that would squeeze your legs together and let out sounds of pleasure.

Him giving you a light touch on your top surgery scars, caused you to let out a quiet whine. Ramattra let out a low laugh at your reaction and continued, going lower, giving your hips a squeeze, seeing how in response squeeze your legs together. "Oh, you like that?" He teased, the only response he got was you getting blush on your cheeks. It was a positive answer for him.

Without any more games, he pushed you, making you hit a wooden desk with your back and parted your legs. His eyes landing on your dripping pussy. "Keep them like that. Don't you dare to close them."

"Yes, Ramattra. I won't—" Your sentence was cut out by a moan, as soon as Ramattra's thumb was brushing against your sensitive clit. It was a simple action and you were already fighting not to close your legs. "Damn it, Ramattra. So I was wrong when I said you've never been with a human?" You let a broken chuckle, when his fingers went to your entrance.

"You already seem to have enough just by simple and almost meaningless touch. I wonder… I wonder what will happen…" And as he said that, two of his fingers entered you, making you shiver. "When I do this." He wasn't so intrigued by your reaction, so he started moving his fingers, stroking your sensitive walls. With them being long, he was brushing that soft stop inside you everytime. You couldn't help yourself from starting to get yourself off by playing with your clit, while letting out the sounds of pleasure. "Are humans always this desperate to cum?" He teased again. You didn't listen to him, even if you wanted you couldn't. You were in trance, high almost. Ramattra wasn't going to be this good and let you cum so easily.

The next thing you know that his fingers are no longer in you and he was holding your hands together. You looked at him with desperation in your eyes. "Please…" He didn't want to give in again. But you begged and it seemed you could do it until you would get what you wanted, it made him melt and he couldn't say no.

"It's so adorable that you're begging. I guess I have no other choice." You smiled at him, hearing that. But you weren't expecting what was about to happen. The next thing you saw was Ramattra getting an extra set of arms, that were huge compared to his normal arm. With his normal hands he grabbed his scepter and placed it against your chest. "I want you to grab it and not let go. I want you to stay in place when I will be, like humans like to say, fucking your brains out." You chuckled at that, not knowing he knew that kind of slang. Without a thought, you did what he told you to, he continued to do it too, keeping you in place like he said. Then you heard a strange sound, something was opening, then you saw something that shocked you.

Ramattra had a cock. You had no idea Omnics had any kind of genitalia in the first place. Or maybe he did it himself, who knew. Most likely, due to the fact how much detail it had. It was jet black like him, with purple elements on his shaft and a couple of wires under it. There was leaking with clear fluid, which must have been lube, because what else could it be.

The next thing you feel is him grab you by your lower parts of thighs with his huge hands, parting your legs further for him. "Are you ready for me?" He asked, you nodded. You thought he was going to demand you to use words, but it seemed that didn't want to waste any more time.

He slowly entered you, making you arch your back. As soon as he was fully inside, you let out a sigh mixed with a chuckle. "Damn… Who would've thought I would be fucked by an Omnic." Ramattra shaked his head and decided to ignore your comment. He started building a steady pace. "You're better than I thou—" At that very moment he hit you in the right spot, you started to lose focus on what was going on around you. You closed your eyes and focused on the pleasure.

"Stop talking so much." If he could roll his eyes, he would. "If it feels that good then stay quiet or I might stop."

"Please don't." You breathed out, getting closer and closer to the release. Your mind was completely clouded by bliss. "Please don't stop. Please!" His pace was getting faster. You could tell he was on the edge as well.

He let go of your thighs, leaning against the desk with his big hands, letting you wrap your legs around his ways and allowing Ramattra to get deeper inside of you, hitting the soft spot inside you everytime.

You felt overwhelmed and then finally, you let out a broken moan, finally hitting that sweet release. Ramattra reached it right after you, bending over you, letting out something like a low groan.

He pulled out and fixed his wires that were supposed to imitate hair and exited his nemesis mode. "I hope you enjoyed yourself, because I'm not planning on doing this again."

"Don't lie. I bet you enjoyed yourself as much as I did." You sat up and tried to stabilize your breathing. "When do you want to come back for a 'check up'?"

He couldn't a help chuckle, he grabbed your face, but this time in much more gentle way, getting a sound of approval from you. "And when do you have time?"

#overwatch #overwatch 2 #overwatch imagines #overwatch x reader #overwatch x you #ramattra #ramattra x reader #ramattra x trans reader #ramattra x male reader #trans male reader #x male reader #male reader #ftm reader #smut #minors dni #not suitable for minors #minors do not interact #minors dont read

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