#guys Izzy is in so deep | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bvnnywrites · 1 year

Text

Still Waters Run Deep

Chapter 1: Apple of His Eye

PAIRING: Eldritch!König x Reader

AUTHOR'S NOTE: As I've said before, English isn't my first language, so this would e fun. Hehe. I'm so excited to share this fic with you guys hehehehe. I'm posting this on both Tumblr and Ao3. Who knows, the story on the other site would be different hm...? I'm not telling when, but hehe. Also, reader is in her twenties, specifically 22, so yayeet. If you don't like how fucked up this story is gonna get then please turn around and go on your merry way. I'll be posting the first chapter here on Tumblr because jesus, my ao3 invitation has yet to arrive. Also, don't forget to write comments, I need feedback because I eat them like it's groceries-

WARNING: NON-CON/DUB-CON, DARK, SMUT, NSFW, Creampie, Breeding Kink, Fingering, Stomach Bulge, Age Gap, Unprotected Sex, Cockwarming, Implied Discharge, Power Imbalance, Abuse of Authority, No Beta Reader, Dom! König, Size Kink, Size Difference, Cannibalism, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Cannibalistic Thoughts, Older!König, Eldritch!König, Monster!König, Masturbation, Dark Romance, Blood and Gore, Violence, Monsterfucking

WHENEVER A CERTAIN COLONEL PASSES BY the soldiers would grow quiet, as if he’s sucking the joy with him and then the chatter would continue once his thundering footsteps would fade away into quietness.

A silence would hang over the air for a brief moment – like they’re making sure the danger has passed before proceeding – and the soldiers would continue to chat once they're sure it was safe to proceed. Babbling away but their voices would be a bit hushed, as if their ears were on the lookout for the colonel’s presence.

The colonel was absolutely – you remember his name being König because you saw him score several shots using a sniper rifle in training – wholeheartedfuckingly terrifying.

König strides confidently across the battlefield and KorTac base of Operations in the same damn manner—Arrogant, egotistical, prideful. The mountain of a man walks in like he owns the place, and troops would be so relieved if they see him in the battlefield because they know that he'd be able to turn the tides to their favor.

And the fucker knows it. He knows people look up at him. Looking at him like the fucking messiah that would save them right then and there.

He relished in it.

And he was so fucking gigantic as he is muscular too, to the point his huge hands could definitely crush your head with his fingers if he saw fit. To say he was a Greek God was insulting. No, he was like Kronos.

Destructive.

All-devouring force.

Whenever you stood too close to him—even tho you recall not stepping too close to the colonel because you wanted to respect the five-foot rule for everyone lest they give you the go signal to hog their personal space like Izzy does—you can see the way his muscles would bulge whenever he tightened his fists, or how the veins on his arms were so… alluring, and holy shit he has scars. Battle scars that should've repulsed you but you find yourself wanting to trace it with your fingers.

His form is almost mesmerizing—like how you'd imagine Fenrir slaying Odin from one of the Norse Myths.

However, like Fenris Wolf, he too was bound and shackled to base. Most of the time, at least. You would see him buried and drowning and several paperwork when you go to his office while Roze waited for you by the door.

And you could see his baby blue eyes squint and conjure a glint of annoyance as you hand him your report. He has pretty eyes, that colonel. He doesn’t speak to you, always uttering grunts or huffs. Dismissing you with a wave of his hand—always gestures but never talking.

It reminds you of gray skies and blue muted waters, and sometimes they seemed vibrant when you hear the sinister glee in his voice of bashing an enemies head open like how watermelon breaks – and then he'd look at you and you'd immediately avert your gaze because oh god that would be so fucking awkward if your superior had caught you staring at his eyes like a creep.

As mentioned before, König is mostly quiet, and you didn't really hear him talk since he never talked to you at all. In the battlefield, when he barked out orders, gunfire would drown them and those closest to him would relay the message on to the others.

Lieutenant Izzy – Izanami actually, but she preferred being called Izzy – always spoke in Japanese, but she can speak a few broken English words. She didn’t seem to see you as a liability, often asking you out to grab lunch with her and Captain Roze. The white-haired girl always made sure you never missed your meals, and if you did, she’d make sure to hand you some MREs for the sake of making sure you’re taken care of.

She said to you once, “Be careful of that colonel, he is… what is English word that for… word you use when object is not good to you—harms life.”

“You mean dangerous?” Roze would correct her. “We really need to work on your English, girl.”

“Yes, that the word I’m looking for.” Izzy would laugh. “ローズ先輩、訂正してくれてありがとう。”

Roze, on the other hand, was more closed off. She was ruthless and strict, but you’re convinced that she cares about you the same way Izzy does because she gets this soft glint in her eyes when you tell her that you forgot to eat or missed lunch. Then five seconds later you’d feel an MRE smacking you on the chest, and Roze is barking at you for being stupid enough to not eat and say you’re lucky that her and Izzy are looking out for you.

But you can tell that both are highly protective of you, like older sisters making sure their youngest sibling didn't fuck up on missions or get hung by their rib by enemy soldiers.

Whenever the colonel passed by, you remember Roze’s words “Keep your gaze down” because apparently there was an incident where König had beaten the shit out of a recruit because the poor thing looked at him funny. Something about the recruit scrunching his face in disgust at the colonel or was it because he had mocked him behind his back?

Either way, the kid was beaten to a pulp.

The colonel was never given a court martial, however, since he had been able to pull rank it seems. Roze was the one who told you during lunch, voice in a hushed whisper.

Then your thoughts wander back to the nightly horror stories your soldiers would tell to one another. You had a habit of visiting them before making sure they all slept on curfew time. It was fun and it helped boost morale amongst the troops. It also helped that you were a younger lieutenant, so you were able to easily connect to your platoons’ humor and quip remarks.

You remember the hushed whispers in the barracks, each of them uttering stories of what König might look like beneath the mask.

You often thought maybe he looks so mutilated that it resembles Nemesis from Resident Evil or maybe Salvatore on the Village Version. But you've seen the pretty blue eyes König possessed and you just know that deep down, he was a handsome man.

Sure, he was old enough to be your dad, had a huge ass age gap that's wider than the forehead of the colonel of the Mexican Special Forces you had previously worked with due to König being forty-five years old, but you'll admit a pretty man if you see one.

However, your soldiers' claims were way more hilarious as they spoke. Each sounding absurd and stupid than the last.

"I heard he has three faces, like the demon Asmodeus. I mean, I wouldn't be surprised if he's a prince of Hell in disguise. Have you seen his body? What I'd give to climb him like a tree."

"I could've sworn I saw worms underneath. Kind of like maybe a maggot-infested lower jaw since I heard the skin of his jaw had been burnt off."

"I think he has the face only a mother could love. Men like that exist."

You had grown up in a small town, people believing heavily in superstitious beliefs. However, once you've left said small town, you realize that they were silly things that old people simply uttered into the wind.

"Did you know a psychic said I would get murdered when I was ten?" You laughed at the absurdity of it all, wanting to add some scary shit of your own.

"Really, L.T?" One of your soldiers said. "Oh, this has to be good!"

“Yeah. I remember she was very old, and if I were correct, I think she moved from Hallstatt? Wherever the fuck that is.”

You told them the stupid little story. How you lost twenty dollars to a fraud only for them to say you'll get murdered, and how it spooked you as a kid and made you all paranoid only to realize you just got scammed out of your money.

"The thing that will kill you is hiding its face. The thing that will kill you has its crown scraping the ceiling. The thing that will kill you has sharpened teeth. The thing that will kill you will charm you with its glamor and false promises. The thing that will kill you will devour you with its appendages and fill you with its seed. The thing that will kill you… you won't see it coming."

The soldiers all laughed, including you, after you've said it in the most croaked voice as you mimicked the old psychic.

You've never laughed so hard in your whole life, but you were glad that it was your troops that were with you and not stuck up stoic alpha male soldiers. It wasn't real, but it didn't hurt to be cautious.

All of you got along.

Sure, most of the soldiers given to you were teens – because the military was just hiring eager and stupid kids, and by God you were going to protect these little shits with your life – but it was fine because they had you. For as long as you live, you promised yourself you'd make sure they were all safe.

And you took them under your wing and you feel bad because they were kids compared to you. They shouldn't be here dressing up as soldiers and being sent off to war zones with you. These kids were supposed to be at home, where they could be safe, and worrying about teen stuff. But then again, KorTac was a company at the end of the day.

A Private Military Company—basically just glorified mercenaries at this point.

Of course, they would exploit anyone who is willing to serve for their country while also getting paid generously compared to being in a government affiliated military—Hell, you're here, aren't you? Why? Because they can be greedy fucks and capitalism exists, and KorTac rivals Disney in terms of being a well-known PMC in the military world, and you're broke.

Not to mention that the BAS – Basic Allowance for Subsistence – was fucking higher in KorTac than the government affiliated military you used to serve in. A BAS rate of seven hundred sixty-two point sixty-nine euros for enlisted members, while officers are given the same but with an increased rate of four hundred ninety-seven point fifty- eight euros is better than the current BAS.

You also get the average of six thousand and seven hundred eighty-two euros at an average per month here in KorTac. The pay is way fucking better and you can save up money to the point you were able to pay off your own student and credit card debts and leave your parents' nest since you were basically loaded at this point.

Money was enough to blind you from the dangers that lurked beneath the still waters that run deep that is KorTac.

"The thing that will kill you… you won't see it coming."

“Did you hear what happened?”

“What?”

“Another soldier went missing again.”

Captain Stiletto changed her mags, examining her scope as she spoke to you with a calm voice—as if she hadn’t just dropped the news of someone going missing. Again. You were ready to hear which recruit was unlucky enough to be whisked away and never to be seen again. That or they turn up mutilated and scared, and the poor things won’t even talk. However, a missing rookie suddenly turns up out of nowhere after months of disappearing without a trace was statistically low.

No, really, it would be low—unusual at best.

The best way to analyze it would be using the Bayesian Inference, and using a probability model to express the uncertainty towards the situation. In this case, using a binary variable would be ideal, $Y$, to represent the outcome whether the missing rookie ever did turn up or not. $Y$ = 1 if the rookie is found, and $Y$ = 0 if the rookie isn’t found.

Then assume that the probability of finding said missing rookie is equal to the proportion of all missing persons who are eventually found. As evidence becomes available, then update the model with that evidence and compute the posterior distribution for the probability of finding the rookie.

In this case, if one of the higher ups discovered the rookie all pale and shaking and are obviously had been terrified to fucking death, the information in that scenario could be used to update the posterior distribution, taking into account that the probability that the rookie had seen something scary in that location, if they were ever found that is.

Once the model with all available evidence has been updated, the posterior distribution to make predictions of the probability of finding the new recruit can now be used. The officers tasked with finding them—at least those who hasn’t given up—will be able to find them within a certain time frame or calculate the probability that they’re are found alive or dead.

Just some basic statistics you’ve learned in ninth grade, that’s all. Or at least from what you can remember.

The scar that ran down the captain’s face was evident like the blood smeared in your hands when you’ve killed an enemy. No one knew why there was a huge damage to her face or why it was there in the first place. You’ve only been in KorTac for a month, almost everyone you’ve met have given you warnings and it was all the same—keep your distance from the colonel. You have half a mind to say “Fuck this” but the pay was good.

Not to mention your contract hasn’t been finished yet and you doubt you’d find a good paying job like this while doing what you love.

“Who was it?” You dared to ask.

Stiletto looks away for a moment, before turning back to you. “Private O’Neil.”

Your eyes widened at the information. You don’t know the person, but to hear a private going missing was surprising. Usually, it was the recruits who disappeared for the most part or at least from your observation in your stay here. Now that’s very strange.

“Huh… a Private? How come it wasn’t a rookie?”

“That’s what I’m thinking too.”

Stiletto responds with the same confusion as you, her lips pursed. She looks worried, unsure to react.

“The colonel had been tasked to investigate the missing cases, but even he isn’t getting any answers.” The captain says, her face troubled. “It’s like there’s a serial killer at base.”

“Like playing Mafia, huh.” You joked.

“Exactly.”

You’re scared of what this could mean. If whoever it was plucking the recruits off like grapes were about to turn to privates, then it won’t be long before your ass is on the line. You have half a mind to help, maybe offer your insights on the investigations, but thanks to Roze and Izzy’s advice, you knew better than to get too close to the colonel…

Unless you want to get beaten by König with your incompetency—what he deems incompetency—since he loves doing things his way according to the soldiers who had worked with him.

It wasn’t enough to scare the rookies, however. They’re still chatty and happy, all of them seemed unaffected by these rumours.

Of course, they’d be unaffected, everyone is telling them that it’s just rumours and the soldier that disappeared had simply been discharged for wanting to leave or go back home. There were a few who didn’t believe it, but those with higher ranks – including you – were reassuring them that it was merely rumours.

That they shouldn’t really worry their pretty little minds about it. And what infuriated you the most was because it worked. They were gullible kids, as young as sixteen to nineteen—basically a six to three years old age gap between you and them. They should know better than to believe the honeyed words from yours or their superiors’ mouth.

But could you even blame them?

They’re just kids. You and the other high-ranking officers were older than them, obviously they would trust you. They expect all of you to guide them, showing them the real ropes of war and violence unlike the trial sessions they’ve had in boot camp and the infantry.

So, really the blame was on every high ranking official—including you.

Everyone from being a specialist to the general of the army were losing their shit over these incidents because KorTac was supposed to promote opportunity and valour, but how can you do that if your fellow soldiers – doesn’t matter what rank they are – are going missing like some monster was plucking them off of their rooms one by one or rather off of the hallways when they’re past curfew.

Curfew falls under your responsibility too, sergeants up to lieutenant colonels were tasked to make sure that every rookie or corporal has to be following the curfew or rather their curfew. KorTac had implemented the curfew for the rookies up to the corporals’ weeks prior to your official employment according to Roze.

The last thing the people who called the shots wanted was a widespread panic amongst their troops.

“Do you have any hunch as to who it might be?” You asked her curiously, wanting to know the captain’s thoughts.

“It could be that newbie before you, Phillip Graves, but he’s mostly out on missions. So, that checks him out.” Stiletto answered, looking at you. “Then there could be the possibility of it being Horangi.”

“Why him?”

“He’s too violent.”

“Aren’t we all?”

Stiletto laughs at your response, shaking her head as if you’re being silly. The captain was nice, in your opinion at least. She pats you back lightly like an aunt would when you remind her of your mom when they were younger. There’s a twinkle in her eyes, one where it makes you wonder just how exactly does Stiletto see you—a daughter, sister or maybe a friend. Either way, you were in her good graces and that’s enough to quell your curiosities for now.

The two of you were practicing alone in the firing range. Those at the lower ranks had gone to sleep or were forced to sleep since it was curfew for them.

The atmosphere had gone heavy.

It was light and cheery in the morning, but at night, the happiness and laxness of the vicinity disappears, and you and the rest of the soldiers with a higher rank are faced with the reality that someone was picking off all of you one by one like candies inside your granny’s bowl of strawberry candy that you don’t see anywhere in the grocery store.

You know, the one’s you get when one day you became a grandma – or great-aunt, or even an honorary old “auntie” – and these things just magically appear at the bottom of your purse. The ones that once they start spilling out of your bag, you’ll find an intricate cut-glass bowl or dish in the middle of your living room and your grandkids or kids would just come and go while pocketing a handful of them, and the refill is somehow always in your purse.

Stiletto hands you a rosary from her pocket. You looked at the long wooden beads coated with silver chains and designs before glancing at the captain. You took it gently, letting the coolness of the holy object cool your skin that wraps around it. Oh, it’s a sweet gesture. Now you have something to wear around your neck, a little good luck charm despite the fact that you don’t really believe in God or a higher being. Her head is tilted to the side, looking at you with an analysing glance as silence befalls the two of you.

“Why…?” You asked her underneath the fluorescent lights of the firing range, riffles forgotten at each other’s side.

Stiletto shrugs, sighing tiredly, “Maybe the thing that’s picking us off one by one would be scared of the Lord.”

“I doubt he exists.”

“He’ll save you in your time of need. He answered my prayers. Maybe He’ll answer yours too.”

“What did you pray for?”

Stiletto is quiet for a moment, looking away before looking back at you with worry. She placed a hand on your shoulder, giving you a gentle squeeze.

“That you would still be alive the next time I see you… that you wouldn’t be next, lieutenant.”

“You’re the lieutenant that Horangi had referred to the company, ja?”

A voice says with a German accent to it, and by Mary, Joseph, and the Babeh Jesus what an alluring voice he has. It was low and rough, a tad bit raspy—gravelly. You thought to yourself that if you were Persephone and you heard this voice coaxing you into the warm embrace of the Underworld, you too would have cartwheeled and backflipped into Hades’s lap. Leaving the nymphs and the flowers, and the warm sun to drown in the enticing embrace of the God of Death while he whispers sweet nothings into your ear.

You turned around, half a mind to fuck the brains out of this man until you saw who was speaking to you and all horniness came to a halt as you realized who it was.

König.

You glanced directly at his eyes briefly before averting you gaze, Roze’s warning echoing in your head. You nod your head, confirming his question. You tell him your name and rank, which country you came from, and basically any general information you can tell to confirm your identity. Konig nods his head at your words. His eyes crinkled—was he smiling underneath the sniper hood?—and you can hear a smug tone on his voice.

“Ja, leutnantin, I’ve read your files.”

“Oh.”

Your eyes glanced to the side, seeing some soldiers chattering at the end of the hall. Good. There are people around. A polite smile blossoms on your face, offering it to the colonel – just like you would whenever you bump into a senior officer. Your mind raced why he was suddenly talking to you.

HE BARELY RESPONDED SO WHY WAS HE SUDDENLT BEING A CHATTER BOX?! You internally panicked since he often responded in hums or grunts whenever you give your report, didn’t even glance at you whenever the two of you passed by each other.

So, why now?

“Did you need something, sir?” You asked him politely, tilting your head a little as you crane your head to look at him properly because holy shit, he’s so fucking tall.

“I do, actually, Schatz.” König responds, cold eyes gazing down at your smaller form. “I need your help with a… serious matter. Come with me to my office.”

His strides are big and long as you struggled to keep up with him as he walked down the halls. Your eyes glued to his massive thighs… and oh. The soldiers within the halls part like the sea as König passed by as if he was Noah. They all lower their gaze, chattering going to a halt until only the sound of the storm raging outside can be heard.

“So, why do we need to go to your office?”

But König doesn’t answer, and his hands balled to a fist. You can see the cloth crinkle as his grip dug into his palms, while he ignores your question. Which is, in a way, rude since you were simply trying to gouge out information as to why your colonel was summoning you to his office. You furrowed your brows at his actions.

“It’s the least I should know, don’t you think–”

“Are you always so noisy?”

You blinked owlishly at his words, the colonel barely looking or glancing at you as he continued to walk down the halls of KorTac. Your breath hitches in your throat as you register the slight annoyance in his voice.

He finally looks at you, eyes crinkling as he laughs. And oh god, his laugh. The mere sound of it makes your cheek warm and make both of your lips smile.

“The look on your face earlier is funny, Schatz. However, you’re a lieutenant, no? I’m sure that despite how young you are, you’re mature enough to know that there are classified things that can only be discussed within the confines of an office, ja?”

“I’m sorry, colonel. I didn’t mean to let it slip off of my head.”

You feel like winning the lottery, but the prize isn’t a billion bucks—it’s the fact that you haven’t angered the colonel, and he’s not bashing your head to the pavement or maybe stabbing you where you stand and tearing your flesh with his gloved hands.

You don’t notice the guilt that settles on your face… nor the look of softness and endearment on König’s face as he admires the look of culpability blossoms on you face.

The softness of your face, the way your eyes are filled with such an adorable shyness when you think that he would actually reprimand you for something so innocent. You were so little compared to him too, so fragile… so weak. He relishes in this power over you—power over your reactions and your expressions. You looked so eager to stay on his good side. So eager to please him in your own innocent way. Whether you intentionally do it or not, König is being pumped full of dopamine at just you talking to him.

He's had his eye on you for a long while. The moment you stepped foot on base, beneath the scorching sun of the tarmac, König wanted nothing more than to snatch you and make you his. Drag you away from KorTac, smuggle you to Austria and lock you away in his house by the sea shore, away from prying eyes.

Where he can have you all to himself.

But even his rank and reputation in KorTac couldn’t save or excuse his behaviour if he does that. Everyone would think he was a freak or someone creepy if he were to ever just scoop you up. The way your voice echoes when you bark out your orders to those inferior to you, the way it softens when you talk to your friends – especially to Horangi, and König s gnawing at the cages of his enclosure because he wished you would talk to him the way you would to Horangi.

He wants to talk again without addressing you formally, but he is awkward with connecting to people. Even when he tried to follow his psychiatrist’s advice in trying to open up to people, König still has a hard time trying to initiate a conversation. The words piling up in his throat—stuck there for the rest of eternity.

König doesn’t know what to do with his hands, resisting the strong urge to grab yours—so tiny and adorable—and let his giant hand envelope it. You are pouting, gaze averted to the ground, cheek rosy from embarrassment, probably reprimanding yourself that you should’ve known better.

König isn’t sure if he wants you to be scared of him or not – and he hates that you are the first one to be an exception to his desires, because he wanted everyone to fear him. There is something dark, disgustingly predatory almost, in his thoughts as he watched you beat yourself up, but he doesn’t speak, and his fists are balled up because your voice and adorable face were too fucking much and he doesn’t even know how to talk to a girl in his adult years.

“C-colonel, we’re here.”

You hate that you stutter, but you can’t help it since your heart skipped a beat when you looked up and saw König looking at you with such softness and tenderness from his gigantic height. You had to take a deep breath, shaking your head at the delusion it’s not a delusion, you aren’t seeing things runnin in your head.

No.

That was wrong. That idea in itself would be wrong. The colonel was someone wise despite his violent tendencies. He would never entertain the idea of being with a fellow soldier. Not to mention bend the rules just to risk his position and rank. It would be stupid for him. It wouldn’t be worth it for him, and you just fucking know it.

“Ah… right. Bitte, wait a minute.”

You can see how miniscule the keys are to his hand, his form bending down a little and when he stood back up, he was at least three inches taller than the fucking doorway. He turns the lights on and gestures for you to step in. He closed the door behind you as you took a seat in one of the chairs in front of his gigantic desk.

The desk looked proportionate to his form, and the office chair he has accommodates him greatly and it makes your heart flutter because he looks like a king and all he had to do was give out his decree, and you would be scrambling to do said decree to please him because holy shit something about how big he is, is making your insides churn deliciously–

Wait. Bitch, you better stop. Your thoughts screeched to halt, smacking yourself internally because you’re sure you’re not yet in your ovulation week because you just finished your period four days prior… No, that’s not true, you lost track of your cycle due to the recent events that happened at base. The colonel was twiceyour size, and you’re not sure if you can take him.

Not in a fight, of course.

“So, about the recent events happening here at base, I’m sure you’re well aware of it by now.” König starts, leaning at the desk. “Soldiers are disappearing left and right, the younger ones wouldn’t take long before they stop buying our lies, and we need a way to stop whoever it is that is picking is off and making us drop like flies.”

He stopped, eyes roaming as if he’s analysing you.

“Hase, you are quite the prodigy that at such a young age you’ve managed to achieve the rank of lieutenant, and I am completely impressed.” König says, nodding to himself as if he’s proud of you. “Someone of your calibre would be of valuable help to catch the culprit or, rather, the creature that’s currently on the loose in base and hunting us one by one.”

“Creature? Don’t you mean person?”

“I’d like you to look at these and tell me that a human was behind these incidents.”

König slides you a dossier and you merely throw a confused glance at him before opening said dossier, and you almost–No. You do regret opening the fucking folder.

The entrails of the victims are chewed off and sprawled across the floor, the ground was a sea of blood. Some of them had missing parts, but mostly the torso was empty, intestines being the only thing left behind from the inside of the corpses, and there were a few where the eyes hangs out of its socket and runs down their faces like a veiny egg yolk. You want to look away, but you can’t. Some pictures showed the skins have been peeled off, most had been cleanly peeled off. Even the nipples were intact. Never to this day have you seen anything so horrible.

Finally, the urge to puke tore your attention away from the files, smacking it to the table as you swivelled your head away, and your mouth unhinged as the familiar disgusting liquid of your insides went past your throat. Before any of it could spill past your lips, a bucket had been shoved to catch it. König holds the bucket to your mouth. Meanwhile, you did nothing but vomit. Over and over again. Long after it seemed there was nothing more to bring up, you continued to vomit.

At last, after a good solid minute, you stopped. Tears prickled your face as puke-mixed snot went down your throat. König was kind enough to offer you tissues to help clean yourself up before he hands you a glass of water, and getting rid of your vomit.

“I’m sorry.” You weakly said. “That caught me off guard and I–” The words cut off in your thought as you shuddered as the pictures seared into your head. Well, guess this is my thirteenth reason.

“It’s fine, Schatz. Nothing to be sorry about. It is rare for someone to stomach such evidence.” He reassures you.

His giant hand rubs soothing circles on your back and it’s so comforting that you eventually calm down and catch your breath. The taste of bile still lingers and you downed glass after glass of water just to get rid of it but seemingly failing to do so. Yet it is nothing compared to the electrifying touch of König’s fingers that glide behind your back, passing by the wing ang hooks of your bra. Of course, he didn’t mean to do that he most definitely did intendes to do that because he was just trying to ease you out of your sickened state.

“I’m sorry.” You say again.

The pout on your lips was making you adorable and König was glad he was the way that he was right now. Had he been the same age as you, he wouldn’t have been able to hold back. He would’ve pushed you down on his desk, giant hands spreading your legs, tearing your clothes, while he makes you beg for his cock–

“As I’ve said before, Schatz. It’s fine. We have to recompose ourselves from time to time. After all, we’re only human, no?”

You look up at him from where you seat, smiling softly at him. He was so nice. Your eyes flickered to his neck, and then on to his fingers. Seeing the lack of wedding band on him had you feeling butterflies. Was he not married? Who wouldn’t want to marry him? Was he ugly?

His baby blue eyes—like a mixture of storm grey skies and the heartless depths of the ocean—were a soft hint to the fact that he was handsome. You just know. Unconsciously licking your lips, your eyes scanned him over – in the most shameless manner, but that was fine. You can always chuck it up to you just analysing him.

“Now, Schatz.” His fingers wrapped around you chin, coaxing you gently to look up at him. “Lieutenant colonel Allard, Captain O’Neil, and I will be conducting a manhunt starting at 00:00 up until to 04:30 this Friday. Allard would be taking the North side of the base, I’ll be taking the South, and O’Neil would be taking the West area–”

You paid attention to every word he said, nodding your head every now and then. You kept your eyes locked to his, unaware of the growing tent inches away from your face in your colonel’s pants.

“–which is why I called you to my office.” His voice rips you out of your trance. “I wanted to ask you if you would be willing to lend out a hand in catching whatever it was that’s picking us off one by one?”

“Yes, sir.”

The way you responded with such speed had you internally clutching your pearls. You were so confused as to why you had agreed so easily without even asking for the details. Hopefully, your colonel would be kind enough to graciously brief you and the team before he sends you all out to play limbo with this culprit.

König smiles at your eagerness to help the team—to help him. The younger ones weren’t so eager like you; often having to be bribed with a reward just to help. But you? You said yes without any hesitation.

“Are you married, Schatz?”

“No, sir.”

“How come? Most female or male soldiers your age are married. Why aren’t you?”

“Why aren’t you?”

Your body tensed as your mind caught up with that loose mouth of yours, but before you could even stop yourself the words had already been uttered into the world. Holding your tongue and making you blurt this in front of your superior needs to be fired. Like, bro, pick a different sim to fuck up. Please. You might’ve had the chance to be in his good graces, being offered promotion after promotion because König did say he’s read your files – he’s awfully touchy too, but maybe that’s because he’s comfortable around you. You might’ve had a chance of walking out the office, alive and healthy with nothing but a nod of a head and telling you to be prepared for the operation this upcoming Friday – but now you’ve said those words with such casualness that it doesn’t really suit the dynamic between you two, and could promptly land you to some punishments. You could–

The colonel chuckles, eyes closed as his shoulder’s shook, and the sound of it makes your cheeks flare with warmth.

“What gave it away, Schatz?”

Your body relaxed, seeing he wasn’t offended or irritated by your response.

“It’s uh… um, the lack of wedding ring, sir.”

“Oh? What an observant klein leutnantin.”

He looks at you, contemplating for a moment before König spoke.

“I have trouble finding a… suitable mate, if you will. Mutter often tells me that I’m a carbon copy of my father, which could explain why she’s so distant and hostile towards me. I don’t… I don’t know or saw the need to find a partner until… until recently.”

His gaze lands on you as he said the last two words. You furrowed your brows, wondering who or what could’ve changed his mind. With a tilt of your head to the side, you asked him a question that stems from his words.

“How come your mother hated you just because you looked like your father? You can’t exactly control your looks.”

“Because he was a monster who had forced himself on her, and forced her to carry his child – which would be me.”

Your eyes widened at that. You didn’t exactly expect the colonel to say it so casually, as if it’s a fun fact you’re telling to a kindergarten. You pursed your lips, looking away, feeling awkward and bad now that you had brought up the topic.

“I��m sorry… I… I didn’t… know.” Was all you can muster.

“You seem to not know anything at all, Schatz.” He cooed at you. “It’s alright. You needn’t be sorry. How I was born is something I cannot control, but the outcome of who I can be is.”

König chuckles, walking over to pat your head affectionately and holy shit it has your heart racing.

“Growing up, the children my age shunned me. They had thrown rocks at me, calling me a monster. My mother did nothing to comfort me, dismissing me and shoving a sack to cover my face. I spent most times outside the house, often sleeping on caves by the waters or at the sand by the shore. The lake is something comforting, I must say… I miss it – yearn for it, if you will."

“Lake? Don’t you mean ocean?”

“My hometown was in Hallstatt Lake, Austria.”

His words ring a bell. You could’ve sworn you’ve heard of Hallstatt Lake before. You tried to remember where you heard it, but couldn’t. Oh, well. If I can’t remember it, then it ain’t that important.

My father travelled from the ocean and dwelled by the lakes of that area. Then he saw mein mutter and... you know how that story went. Anyways, I have learned that I am… hideous. Therefore, that is one of the contributes as to why I am still, in your kind’s terms, single.”

“So you’ve never had partners before? Not even… I dunno… doing the devil’s tango? Sex?”

He laughs, shaking his head. “No, Schatz. They back out the last minute.”

You looked at him pitifully. He was a lonely man, wanting to have someone beside him and yet his self-esteem was so low. Maybe fucking him could boost his self-esteem. It’s not like I’m craving him, I’m simply helping. Maybe I could be the first to teach him the intimate touch of a woman. The comforts of the flesh. There was something about damaged men that are just so fucking hot. After all, it’s just a twenty-three years old age gap between König and I – Woah, what?! Pause. Your thoughts screeched to a halt, pinching yourself for letting it wander off that far.

How did it get to this?

How did the two of you get so comfortable to the point he’s literally just trauma dumping on you, and you’re lending an ear to listen. You should be walking out f the door, telling him this was unprofessional but you find yourself glued to the chair, heart going out to König as you empathize with him.

“I may not know what you look like under the mask, but mom did tell me that you can see if a person has a handsome or beautiful face is by looking at the shape of their eyes.”

“Oh? And what have you deduced from just observing my eyes, Schatz? Am I considered monstrous?”

“No, sir… I’d say you’re beautiful.”

König’s eyes widened at your words, his cheeks burning beneath the mask and he’s so fucking thankful that you can’t see his face or what he looks like underneath. His heart thumps louder than it did when he first saw you.

He is fighting the urge to invite you to move in with him to his quarters, keeping you all to himself. König’s sure that his bedroom is way more spacious and comfier than that of a lieutenant’s. The Austrian giant has to physically restrain himself from snatching you, and dragging you into the shadows with him where no one can rip you from his embrace – he can’t bear thinking about you being with someone else.

“Was it offensive… sir?”

“No, liebling. I just think you are blind.”

König would absolutely whisk you away right now. All you need to do was say the word, and he’d be following your words as if they are the ten commandments. He can and will buy you an estate if you want, just pick a place—preferably in Hallstatt, Austria—and that would be easy for him. König would love to just provide for you, to get to go home to someone as adorable and meek as you are – eager to succeed and be praised by the most little of things. You would be protected there. No one would ever disturb you.

His father was never there for his mother. Left nothing to support her other than trauma after he was hunted down by the townsfolk and brutally murdered. König tells himself that he would be different, that he would give you the world. You need only ask.

He understands that being delusional isn’t healthy, and that his psychiatrist would definitely shoot him with a Nerf gun for letting himself descend into this type of madness, but he was old.

And lonely.

And you’re just so sweet and so nice to him, going so far as to tell him he’s beautiful. And despite spending too much time in waters, König drowns himself in fantasies about you being in a giant house, welcoming him home after his deployment, pregnant and eager to kiss him sweetly. You who can be his everything. A cure for his troubles and woes, even though his psychiatrist had severely advised him to not put your partner on high pedestals because it is extremely unhealthy and co-dependent.

König knows he can’t just blurt shit out as he pleases, lest he scares you away. You would scream at him, call him a sociopath – or a psychopath if you aren’t as knowledgeable as him in the department of terms. He is only self-aware enough to know that he can lose you if he made one wrong move.

He’s old and tired. And he wants to experience fatherhood before he dies, preferably having you as his klein Frau. But he can’t rush you. He needs to bid his time. In that moment, König decided—regretfully so—to let you go back to your duties for the day.

He needed to get close to you than he ever did before—needed to work with you to have you close to him at all times.

“That would be all, liebling.” König says to you. “You are free to go now. I don’t really want to hold you up here for too long.”

“It’s an honour to be picked by you, colonel.” You chirp happily, eager to maintain this casualness between you two in hopes of getting promoted faster.

The giant, behemoth of a man watches you walk away from him, eyes glued to your hips and adorable, plump ass. Your frame still smaller than him even when you stood up to your full height. It was endearing to him. Soft blue eyes following your every move, watching you as you give him one last smile and a friendly wave before you closed the door shut behind you.

“I’d say you’re beautiful.”

Your words echoed in his head, making the older being flustered as he ran his hands over his face and sighed. He couldn’t get it out of his mind, and he knew he’d be clinging to that until the day he died.

“It shall be the day that the sun is at its peak when you find what you longingly desire. Once the sky is thick with water and the blood of warriors are spilled, the gods will give you a chance to converse with this creature. You should turn them away. Put them at arms-length, but you are a selfish being. You would devour them, drain them until they are merely husks because of your depravities… I pity this young girl.”

He recalls the stupid reading he had gotten from a so-called ‘wise woman’ twelve years ago in her quaint house at Wolfengasse street. Maybe that völva was genuine in her craft before she left Austria.

2K notes · View notes

jakedustry · 28 days

Text

𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐘 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐌 - 𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆

bsf!Heeseung x fem!reader

in which your best friend invites you to his basketball match because he wants his closest friend present, but things take a turn different way when he wins and you're the first person he runs to

wc 2.2k

warnings reader is implied to be shorter than Jake

↪ izzy adds... I love love writing Heeseung as a basketball player. I really believe after being an idol it's what fits him the most

You stood outside your apartment, gazing out across the street while patiently waiting for your best friend to pick you up. He was late. Again. But you could hardly nag him about it because he was also late to his match, and you knew that alone was enough punishment for him.

A sigh escaped your lips as you took out your phone to glance at the clock, taking the opportunity to fix your hair in the reflection on your phone. 9:40. You stared at the numbers, thinking about just turning around and returning to your apartment. You didn’t even know if he was coming anymore. After all, it would be wise if he went to the match instead of picking you up so he could still warm up.

But he wasn’t smart about it. It wouldn’t be at all like him to not come running for you, even though he should be somewhere completely different at the moment.

You chuckled, watching your best friend park his car right before you, telling you to get in quickly. “The guys are going to kill me,” he whined, starting the vehicle again. “You can’t blame me for that, though. I wasn’t late, Hee,” you reminded him. “I know, I know,” Heeseung sighed. “I’m sorry. Were you waiting for long?”

You sat in silence during the ride. Heeseung was panicking. It was clear to anyone who as much as glanced at him, and you knew better than to stress him out even more by talking. You can update him on your life after his match.

“I am so sorry. I’ll catch you again later,” your best friend blurted out quickly, too busy to even look your way before he took his bag and ran off to what you assumed was his team’s dressing room. “Don’t worry about it!” You assured him, chuckling when he almost tripped over nothing. You shook your head at him, leaving to find yourself a place in the crowd of fans.

You expected to see more people in the audience since it was one of the last - and most important - matches of the season, but what no one could prepare you for were fans with banners and team flags. You tilted your head, trying to wrap your head around why they were taking it so seriously.

You scanned the audience, searching for an open slot, but everything by the front seemed full. You sighed. This is what you get for coming late.

Actually, no. This is what you get when you arrive on time. The match hasn’t even started yet and won’t for another ten minutes. You weren’t late. Everyone was just too early.

Though deep down, you knew that wasn’t right. Still, you would rather blame others for not having a good spot.

“Shorty!” You turned around upon hearing the familiar voice, rolling your eyes when you noticed Heeseung’s other best friend, Jake Sim. He caught a place at the front. You smiled before joining him after exchanging a small wave.

“How many times do I need to tell you not to call me that?” You muttered, taking a seat next to him. “I don’t know what annoys you so much. If you’re short, I’m going to call you short,” he stated, holding back his laugh as you rolled your eyes at him. “I am not even that short,” you huffed. In fact, he wasn’t much taller than you. Yet, he always found a way to tease you.

“Hey there now, I saved you a place. You can’t be mad at me,” Jake protested. “You’re lucky I like you,” you warned him, scoffing when you saw him give in and laugh at you. “Is Riki not here too? I can’t stand being here alone with you.”

“Come on, you know you love me,” he teased you, the grin on his face only making you more annoyed. Jake chuckled at your behavior, shaking his head. “He went to the toilet. He should be here any minute,” he explained, straightening his back so you could see the younger boy’s hoodie thrown over the seat on his other side. “Right. I saw it from behind but didn’t realize it was Riki’s,” you commented, redirecting your attention towards the court as you heard fans screaming, realizing that was your cue the match was about to start.

♡⸝⸝

“I can’t believe they started when I wasn’t here,” Riki complained, trying to figure out how both teams managed to score already. Honestly, he didn’t miss out on much, in your opinion. The first basket was simple luck, and the second wasn’t any different. Both teams had good defense, not letting their opponent through. They were just lucky the other teams made a mistake at the best time possible, allowing them to score.

“At least Heeseung waited for you,” Jake joked, glancing at his best friend on the team bench, waiting for the coach to let him in with the rest of his team. The other team was also lucky he wasn’t playing, you thought.

Heeseung was on the court at all times. It didn’t matter if he was sick the night before or out of energy after a tiring day. He always played in the starting five, pushing his limits so that he could play. But he wasn’t in the starting five this match, and you could feel his frustration all the way to your seat.

You knew he was more mad at himself than his teammates or his coach though. Had he been here on time, he would be playing now. The coach made sure he got that clear when he told him he wouldn’t be starting this time. A part of you felt sorry for him. You knew how much playing meant to him, and hadn’t he come to pick you up, maybe he wouldn’t be as late.

You snapped out of your thoughts upon hearing the cheers. They were so loud you were sure even the people outside the stadium would hear them. It didn’t take you long to figure out what - or more, who - the screams were about. All that echoed through the closed space was the name of your best friend. Lee Heeseung.

“Heeseung, go kick their asses!” This wasn’t a fight.

“Heeseung, show them how to score! Let’s get a goal!” They weren’t at a football match. There weren’t any goals.

“Heeseung, you can do it on your own!” Basketball is a team sport.

You weren’t sure why, but you felt annoyed. Everyone around you except for your two friends seemed to know nothing about basketball, and you hated the fact they were present just because they found your best friend hot.

“You know, your face has no filter,” Jake nudged your shoulder, making you blink a few times before you turned towards him. “What?” He chuckled, shaking his head at you. “The frown on your face. You’re making it look as if you were jealous,” he teased you, catching Riki’s attention. Great. All you needed was his tall ass making fun of you for feeling jealous when that wasn’t even the case.

“I am not jealous,” you protested for the third time already. “Right, and I am–” Before Jake could finish his sentence, the buzzer interrupted him, letting you know a team requested a time-out. You glanced at the scoreboard, your eyes widening when you noticed you almost missed the whole first quarter. Heeseung’s team was now winning 18:13, and you missed all that just because of a stupid argument. You sighed, looking at Heeseung on his team’s bench. He was gulping on his water, carefully listening to what the coach had to say about the play so far, wiping the sweat off his forehead.

Somehow, a part of you found it attractive.

“Yeah, definitely not head over heels for him,” Riki laughed when he noticed who you’ve been staring at. “Guys, I am not–” you started, swallowing the rest of what you wanted to say when you saw Heeseung look your way, giving you a quick, excited wave before he set his water bottle aside. “You were saying?” Jake scoffed, but you didn’t care enough to argue with him. You didn’t need to prove anything to him.

♡⸝⸝

As the buzzer announced the start of the fourth quarter, you had decided to come down to the court so you could be there once the match was over. The score was neck to neck now, and you knew Heeseung needed a bit more support to do well.

That was how you found yourself standing on the side of the court, just a few feet away from the door leading to the dressing rooms. Jake and Riki stayed in their seats, claiming they didn't want to give up such good seats just to stand near the smelly dressing rooms, but you didn’t mind. You had a good view from your place, and your cheers could reach your best friend easier. The smell was something you could bear for him.

“Just two more points! You’re almost there, Hee!” You cheered, catching Heeseung’s attention immediately as his eyes shifted from the ball to your figure for a second. He smiled, quickly coming back to his senses as he sped up, catching up on his opponent and blocking him from making the shot. Heeseung’s teammate quickly caught the ball, and the game was theirs again.

The game was moving too fast to your liking. When your team managed to score, their opponents followed up shortly after, making the last few minutes extremely tiring. You could see it on all of them. The way they were sweating and panting as they tried to stop the other team from scoring and failed miserably each time was a clear sign of exhaustion. You glanced up at the scoreboard, watching the 82:83 written right under the time they had left. 2 minutes.

A lot could happen in 2 minutes. Within the blink of your eye, each team gained another 6 points in under a minute, and it stressed you out. They were running too much. You knew Heeseung would collapse in your arms as soon as the match ended. You could see that he was pushing his limits once again.

You almost yelled at him to sit down and let someone else finish it, but you knew you couldn’t do that to him. This was important to him, and you were there to support him, not scold him.

As the buzzer filled the stadium one last time, your eyes shot up to the basket in front of you, watching the ball fall to the ground as the score changed one last time. Your eyes lit up, an uncontrollable smile spreading across your face when you saw your team win. They did it. They won the finals. And it was all thanks to Heeseung’s buzzer beater.

You could see the joy in his eyes as he looked around the court, searching for something, someone. He didn’t care about his teammates running to him to embrace him in a hug. All he could think about was you and the fact he needed to be in your arms.

When his eyes finally met yours, he quickly apologized to his team, not wasting any more time before he ran to you. He didn’t care that everyone was watching him, cheering for him, or calling his name so he would take a picture with his team.

Heeseung wrapped his arms around your shoulders, almost knocking you to the ground as he hugged you, squeezing you tightly. You laughed, patting his back to assure him you were there with him. “I did it! I did it!” He cheered, backing up so he could look you in the eyes. But soon after, you had him close again. Expect this time, it wasn’t just a hug you found yourself in.

His lips pressed against yours, one of his hands finding its way to the back of your head, pulling you closer, while his other hand rested on your waist. Your eyes widened. Unable to do anything, you watched his sweaty forehead. His eyes were closed, and his lips were soft against yours. Still, you knew the kiss must have felt bad when you didn’t kiss him back. You couldn’t. Your heart was beating too fast, and your mind was an even bigger mess.

A huffed “Sorry” escaped his lips as he pulled away from you, his forehead pressing against yours as he breathed heavily, still trying to catch his breath after the match. You closed your eyes, rethinking everything before you cupped his cheek, making him look you in the eyes.

It was your hand that rested at the back of his head now, pulling him closer just like he did seconds ago with you as you kissed him. “You did it,” you nodded slightly, whispering against his lips. “I fucking did it,” he smiled, his hand wrapping around your hips to keep you close. “I finally gathered up the courage to kiss you,” he proclaimed, chuckling as if he didn’t believe what was happening.

Your cheeks heated up, becoming redder the more you looked at him. He was unbelievable. “You wanted to kiss me?” You asked, your question coming out a lot quieter than you intended. “For so long,” he nodded. “Ever since you became my lucky charm.”

✧˖°. izzy's tags @beomiracles @adel222

want to get notified? join taglist here!

189 notes · View notes

uselessheretic · 1 year

Text

i love the idea though that izzy is holding onto some deep shameful secret that he's the cause of ed's mental breakdown and if the crew learn this they'll realize that they shouldn't be sympathetic towards izzy because clearly he was asking for it just cuz. like. how would that conversation even fucking go.

izzy: this is all my fault. i caused this.

frenchie: that seems unlikely, mate

izzy: it's true. i yelled at him when he was cleaning. called him—[sniffles] called him a namby-pamby.

jim: wow. a namby-pamby. how fucking cruel.

archie: y'know, i'm not sure blackbeard even knows my name. he usually just calls me "hey you!" and "that one yeah go fight that one to the death"

izzy: no, you guys don't understand, i asked for blackbeard! i asked for this!

fang: yeah, [slaps izzy on the back] i miss the old blackbeard too.

izzy: i told him he should've been killed by the english! that him singing songs was a fate worst than death! did you not hear the namby-pamby bit?

frenchie: forgive me if i'm wrong, but didn't you say he left you with a gun to kill yourself?

izzy: i think i really hurt him...

jim: boo fucking hoo

archie: men are so fucking emotional

#ofmd #izzy hands

849 notes · View notes

duffslut · 1 month

Text

By the pool

Slash x Reader

My Masterlist

Word Count: 890

Warnings: Smut! Minors DNI.

It was the hottest night that summer, you were melting in the heat of your hotel room when you finally decided to go to the pool, it was night and you would probably be the only one there, and it's wasn't like you had any company to call, since you had decided to travel alone.

You heard some rumors as you walked down the hallway towards the pool, apparently some rock band was staying at the same hotel as you, but you didn't care much, until you got to the pool area and were paralyzed by what you saw, four guys slumped on sun loungers around the pool, countless bottles of whiskey on the floor, and one last guy in the pool, who had an incredibly lit cigarette between his lips. You thought about just turning around and going back to the room, but it was too late, now they were all staring at you, you tried to cover your body with your towel, and felt your cheeks burn with embarrassment.

- You guys are scaring the poor girl you fuckers. - The guy in the pool said, and you thought you recognized his voice from somewhere, but it was only when he brushed his long, curly hair away from his face that you realized who they were, the band people were talking about in the hallway was GUNS N FUCKING ROSES.

- I-I'm sorry I didn't mean to bother you, I swear I'm not a crazy fan. - You spoke too fast. - I mean, I'm a fan actually, but I didn't know you guys were here.

They laughed, and Axl passed you a bottle of whiskey, as if it were the most normal thing in the world, you couldn't refuse, and maybe the drink would take away some of your shyness since Slash, from the pool, hadn't taken his eyes off you since you arrived.

- What's your name? - Slash asked you.

- Y/n. - You said, trying to seem calm, when in reality you were completely in love with him, he had always been your favorite member of the band, and you had never imagined meeting him like this.

- Great, Y/n, now would you mind lighting my cigarette for me? - He said as drops of water ran down his hair and wet his angelic face.

Somewhere in your body, you felt yourself getting wet too, why did he have to be so hot? And why did he have to look deep into your eyes while you lit the cigarette on his lips?

- Is it cold? - You asked about the pool water.

- No, it's actually quite hot. - Slash said, smiling at his pun.

You put one foot in the water and were thinking about joining Slash in the pool when you heard nervous footsteps.

- Come on Axl, don't be mad! - Izzy said but it was too late, the redhead just turned around and said "you can all suck my dick".

As soon as the vocalist left, the rest of the boys left too, each in a different direction, leaving you and Slash alone.

- So... He really is hot-headed, huh? - You said, looking at Slash, now without hiding your desire to grab him right there.

- He has his reasons. - He said, then he placed his big hand on your thigh and your whole body heated up.

All you could think about was how many times you had imagined those hands, touching you exactly the same way he played his guitar. Slash noticed how you rolled your eyes just at the touch of his hand, and realized that you wanted the same thing as him. He flicked his cigarette butt away from the pool and now concentrated on untying the side ties of your bikini. You looked around apprehensively, even though it was dark in the pool, just a few meters away from you, guests were passing by, entering and leaving the hotel.

You put your hand in his hair as he began to kiss the inside of your thighs, your whole body shivered, and you noticed that Slash was already hard, as he constantly touched his crotch under the water, so you decided to help him massaging his cock with your feet while he brought his lips closer and closer to your pussy, he kissed your clit through the fabric of your bikini, before lowering it completely. You lost your mind when his soft, wet lips finally touched your pussy, your body leaned back and your fingers tugged at the strands of his hair, his tongue knew exactly what to do, he ate you like he was desperate for it, sucking every inch of you, drowning his face between your legs, you controlled your moans but Slash didn't seem to care, he murmured and moaned breathlessly while you massaged his cock still over his shorts underwater. You knew you were about to cum when Slash stuck a finger inside you and started finger fucking you while still sucking you with his eyes closed, there was no time to warn him, you came right in his mouth, and he gave you a satisfied smile before jumping out of the pool.

- See that? - He pointed to the bulge in his crotch. You could almost see the veins of his dick showing through his shorts, he wasn't wearing any underwear. - We need to sort this out. What's your room?

107 notes · View notes

marvelobsessed134 · 11 months

Note

Slash + voyeurism for kinktober? 👀

Kinktober day 10: Voyuerism with Slash

Pairings: Slash x Fem!Reader ft. Izzy Stradlin

Warnings: voyuerism, smut, slight daddy kink, Izzy jerks off while watching you guys, semi cock!possessive!slash, dom!slash, sub!reader, squirting.

Summary: Slash wants to show you off to his best friend Izzy.

You were naked on all fours while your boyfriend was sat on the couch jerking his cock. “Come on over here baby.” His deep voice commanded you felt your arousal drip. You slowly crawled to him, seeing the other guitarist in your peripheral vision.

It was Slash’s idea to show you off like this. Izzy mentioned wanting to fuck you for a while and of course the other guitarist was not cool with that idea, but he decided that he could at least watch.

You sat on your knees between his thighs eyeing his cock hungrily. The curly haired man smirked that this, “Go on baby. Come suck my dick like a good girl.” You immediately got to work, licking and sucking his shaft. He gripped your hair and threw his head back moaning. He got a glimpse of Izzy stroking his own cock while watching you work your magic.

“Yeah, you like this Stradlin? Wait till you see what her pussy can do.” Slash groaned with a smirk.

All Izzy could do was watch and honestly, he was cool with that. Being able to see you naked was good enough for him.

You continued to suck him off like your life depended on it, knowing he’d give you the same effort back. That’s what was nice about your relationship. If someone wasn’t putting in effort then the other wasn’t going to either. Also if you’re naughty slash gets to punish you.

Then the guitarist pulls you off and moves so you could lay on the couch. You get up, pressing a kiss to his lips before obeying his command.

Your legs spread on their own accord as you looked at Izzy’s expression. It was dark and feral, much like your boyfriend’s.

Slash positioned himself between your legs before licking a stripe against your pussy from the bottom all the way up to your clit. You hissed and gripped his hair, shutting your eyes as he continued to eat you out.

“I know you’re closing your eyes baby. Open them. Look at Izzy watch you while I eat this sweet little pussy.” You did as he said, looking at Izzy looking at you. You could see him pump his cock faster and you gripped Slash’s hair tighter. Your eyes were wide and watery.

“Mmm Slash…I’m gonna cum!” You squealed.

“Okay then, cum for me baby. Cum for me and my friend.” And so you did, squirting your juices all over his face. “Fuuuck, you taste so good. That was so hot.”

“Holy shit.” Izzy muttered. The curly haired man looked to his friend with a smile, “Yeah, my girls’ a squirter.”

You laid there blissed out, barely registering the back he brought you up on his lap, hovering over his cock.

“Mmm you want it baby?” He asked teasingly.

“Oh yes. Please…daddy.” You let it slip. The one nickname that you usually call him in bed.

“Fuck.” The other raven haired man muttered, pumping his cock more.

“That’s a good girl. Go on.” Slash said and you sunk down on his large dick. You gripped his shoulders for balance as you began to ride him.

“Ah, fuck yes. You’re so tight baby oh fuck.” Your boyfriend was a moaning mess as you continued to ride him, he grabbed and slapped the flesh of your ass, forgetting that his best friend was jerking off to the scene not too far away.

“Be a good girl and make daddy cum.” He instructed and you sped up your movements, kissing his neck up to his lips. His grip on you tightened and it wasn’t long before he shot his sticky, salty, warm, cum into your womb.

You moaned at the feeling, rolling your eyes back.

Slash turned to look at Izzy eyeing the ropes of cum on his stomach and said, “Enjoy the show?”

“Fuck yeah dude.”

#gnr smut #gnr x reader #guns n roses #guns n roses x reader #slash x reader #slash guns n roses #slash gnr #slash smut #slash gnr smut #guns n roses smut #izzy stradlin smut #izzy stradlin #izzy gnr #kinktober

529 notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 month

Text

Paradigm Shift 4

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: you get transferred to a new position but it’s hardly a breath of fresh air. (plus!reader)

Characters: Loki, Bucky Barnes, this reader is known as Billie.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

💼Part of the Bad Bosses AU💼

You have one victory on your first day and it’s hardly that. Laufeyson and Barnes responded but it’s just more work to put on your plate. Now you have to go through and figure out how to balance it all. Well, it’s Friday and you can worry about all of that on Monday.

You head out from the office. You have earned your prize. Drinks. And you’re not going to take it easy, even if Missie tells you to.

You get there later than the others. You barely have enough time to get home and change out of your striped blouse. All you really did was switch out your blazer for a leather jacket.

Georgie is nervous and glum. Her boss is taking her on an impromptu work trip. From what you’ve heard of the guy, he’s a real tool. You envy Izzie as she’s jumping out of planes instead of moping over an office desk. You’ll have to ask her how she got into that.

Before you can put in your order for a double paloma, more tempted to just ask for a straight shot of tequila, a server appears with a tray of drinks. Ugh. You can see the sugar in the colour alone.

“I don’t think that’s for us,” Elfie says before you can.

“Some gentlemen sent them,” the server gestures behind her with her chin.

She unload the tray as you strain to see the creeper buying a round for you. There’s always some loser buzzing around like a gnat. “God, I could use a tequila...” you mutter.

“Who is that?” Rosie asks what you’re all thinking as a man waves and Dizzie waves back. You want to snatch her hand down. She can be so naive.

“That’s my boss,” she explains and your throat locks up. You might just choke on your own damn tongue.

You sit back down and hide your face between your hands. It can’t be but you’re certain at a glance. Dark hair, square jaw, piercing blue eyes. Did he see you too.

“Shit, he’s with my boss!” You hiss.

“Your boss?” Elfie leans in with concern.

“One of them.”

“And... is that... Mr. Rogers?” Rosie chimes. “What are the odds?”

You lift your face and glare at her brightness. She might like her boss but you have been in hell all day. You can’t even begin to explain the shit pile you’ve been handed. Two bosses. Both eager to outdo the other’s assholery.

“It’s so nice of them to send some drinks thought,” Dizzie says.

Rosie agrees but Elfie has the sense to question it, “but why?”

“I won’t deny a free drink..” Missie slurps.

You ignore their chatter and raise your hand above the din. You signal to the server with a fraction of a smile. Fuck this apple bullshit. You need the hard stuff.

The alcohol helps the night along but you can’t shake the presence across the bar. You’re paranoid. It’s too much of a coincidence. More so than Barnes being there but with Rosie and Dizzie’s bosses. You gues their type flock together.

Still, you can’t quite shake it. You keep yourself to two palomas. You won’t risk making a single misstep.

At the end of the night, you head off alone. Usually, you’d split a cab with Elfie but she left early, Georgie too. You yawn and bid goodbye to the rest.

You dive out into the dark and tuck your hands into your pockets. The street is quiet as you step up to the curb. At this hour, it’s only cabs but you don’t see any lurking around. You head down the pavement in search of a ride.

“Billie,” the deep timbre halts you. You blow out between your lips and turn to face Barnes. You're not surprised.

“Mr. Barnes,” you greet.

“Walking home alone?” He asks.

“Trying to find a cab.” You spin back and raise your hand as a yellow car appears around the corner.

“If you need a ride...” he offers.

“No thank you.” You lean in as you flag the driver. He stops just a few feet away to pick up a group of guys. Shit.

“I don’t mind.” He insists.

You shake your head and cross your arms. You continue down the street. You don’t live that far. His footfalls echo yours.

“You know, it wasn’t in the options but I do expect you to flash a smile or too,” he chirps as he comes parallel to you.

“I’m not on the clock.”

“No, you’re not. So how about another drink?”

You scoff and stop. “I don’t mix my personal and professional life.”

“All professional, doll. I’m just congratulating you on your new position.” He smirks as you glance over.

“I gotta get home.”

You walk on and he does too. You get to the corner and harrumph. You stop again.

“What are you doing?” You ask.

“With that kinda attitude, you’ll fit right in with Laufeyson.”

You tilt your head as you consider your options. Keep going and lead him home or argue with him some more. Why can’t it just be over?

“I can be a nice guy. You caught me on a bad day,” he says.

“Look, I appreciate the offer, Mr. Barnes.”

“We’re not at work. Bucky’s good.”

“Mr. Barnes,” you repeat. “I’m tired. It was a long day, thank to you, and I need to go home and sleep. Let’s save the niceties for Monday. Please.”

He considers you, his cheek dimpling. His blue eyes scan your grim expression. He snorts.

“Huh, I think I misjudged you, doll.” He reaches to fix the floppy lapel of your jacket. “I really didn’t think you were that much of a tight ass. Guess I’ll just have to loosen it up.” He winks and pulls back, tucking his hands into his pockets. “Be safe,” he turns on his heels, “don’t know what kinda creeps are hanging out around here.”

He struts back towards the bar and you glare after him. Right. You’re dreading Monday even more.

#bucky barnes #loki #dark bucky barnes #dark loki #dark!bucky barnes #dark!loki #loki x reader #bucky barnes x reader #series #drabble #bad bosses #au #marvel #mcu #thor #avengers #captain america #winter soldier

133 notes · View notes

vinyldreamsfuckup · 2 months

Text

Rocket Queen Pt. 2

A: the long-awaited part 2 lol so sorry this took literally forever. i decided I'll do a short part 3 after this so stay tuned. part 3 will be the ending. i promise it won't take me as long lol

part 1: here

Warnings: smut, semi-public sex, fluff, smoking (weed), praise, arguing, language, protective Slash

You and Slash had been casually seeing each other for the last 3 months now. Ever since that night, it was nearly impossible to stay away from each other. Slash was intoxicating. Everything about him was intoxicating. The way he drank and smoked even turned you on. You'd come with him to recording sessions and concerts where you watched him play with Guns. You'd even gotten quite close with Izzy and Steven, but it seemed like neither you nor Slash were ready to be in a serious relationship together. Even if you both felt like you were falling for each other a little more every day. You were sitting in the studio while the guys were recording a new song. Axl was talking to Slash about his guitar solo and you were sitting with Izzy and Duff smoking a joint.

"What do you think they're talking about?" Duff asked with a slight giggle.

Izzy shrugged, "Axl is probably asking him to record it again. He's being such a perfectionist for this song."

Duff nodded in agreement. As you took a drag of your joint, you noticed yourself admiring Slash. He had his guitar hung low on his body and he was wearing a shirt he'd cut the sleeves off of. You noticed how low the cutout holes went, showing the majority of his side, how his tattoos looked against his skin, and the way his fingers effortlessly moved across the guitar.

You leaned back and took a deep breath. This was not helpful really at all. Slash looked over at you, his face was full of shock, anger, and confusion. You furrowed your eyebrows at his face. Slash looked back at Axl and shook his head furiously. Axl looked like he was pleading with Slash.

"What the fuck?" You muttered. Duff and Izzy looked over at you.

"What?" Duff asked then looked over at Axl and Slash.

"Oh shit..." Izzy murmured. He stood up and walked over to the booth. He opened the door and Slash was yelling. You'd never heard him yell before. This made you even more confused.

"No man! I'm not fucking doing that! Are you fucking clinically insane?" Slash yelled.

"You're so fucking stupid. It's not that big of a fucking deal!" Axl yelled back.

"Can you guys fucking stop?" Izzy said moving between them. You got up and walked over to Slash.

"Come on, let's go out here and take a breath," You said softly. He looked over at you. Protectiveness filled his eyes. Heat pooled in your abdomen at his gaze. You'd never seen him possessive and protective like this before and it was really turning you on. Slash took his guitar off and set it on his guitar stand.

"It's not fucking happening," Slash said to Axl as he put his hand on the small of your back and led you out of the room.

"You're so fucking weird man. It's not even that big of a deal. We all share a fucking house with you, it's nothing we haven't heard before," Axl bit out. You paused. Wait what?

"That's totally different you fucking asshat!" Slash stopped and started yelling.

"You guys seriously," Duff stood up.

"Stay out of this," Axl warned, " You're being absolutely ridiculous. We all have already heard you guys."

"That's not the fucking point Axl. I don't think the rest of the world needs to hear," Slash yelled.

"What the fuck is going on right now?" You asked. The weed still flowed through your veins making your mind still slightly foggy.

"Well go on and tell her," Axl said. Slash sighed and looked at Axl angrily.

"What? Tell me what?" You asked getting increasingly frustrated.

"Axl here, being the absolute fucking genius he is," Slash said sarcastically, "wants us to fuck while being recorded so he can use it in his song."

"Wait what?" You asked slightly confused.

Axl sighed, "Look I fucked a girl for the song, and it ended up not sounding how I want it to. You and Slash sound good together and I think it would be perfect for the song."

"Oh my god," You breathed out.

"See. You're fucking insane," Slash said to Axl.

"I'm crying to make fucking art you piece of shit," Axl spat back at Slash.

"You guys have to stop. This is getting so ridiculous," Izzy said with a sigh. The door opened and Steven walked in with a smile.

"Hey guys!" Steven smiled. His face fell when he looked at everyone's expressions, "Woah...fuck did I just walk into?"

"I'll do it," You said with a sigh. Slash looked over at you with shock on his face.

"No," Slash said blankly.

"Slash it's fine," You said softly, "Let's just do it."

"No, I'm not going to let him pressure you into this because he wants to be a fucking dickhead," Slash said spiting the words toward Axl.

"Oh fuck off you shit for brain alcoholic piece of-" Axl started but you cut him off.

"He's not pressuring me. It's fine. Let's just do it," You said softly. You rested your hand on his arm. Slash looked down at you and confusion, protectiveness, and love filled his gaze.

"Are you sure?" Slash asked softly. It was a stark difference to all the yelling. You nodded and pulled him closer.

"I was already thinking about you," You whispered. Slash took a deep breath.

"Everyone out," Slash said harshly his gaze still on you. Axl, Izzy, and Steven quickly walked out of the booth and shut the door behind them. Slash lowered the lights and led you over to the small couch.

"You've been thinking about me?" Slash asked, his voice low and slightly husky. You felt heat pool in your abdomen and you nodded.

"What were you thinking about?" Slash asked as he leaned forward and pressed a kiss on your neck. A shiver went down your spine and you took a deep breath.

"I was thinking about how good you looked today and how much I love watching you play guitar," You said softly. Slash hummed against your neck.

"Remember if you change your mind it's okay. I can always take you home," Slash whispered. You nodded in agreement. He always cared about your wellbeing. Making sure you felt good, that you were happy, that you were never uncomfortable. It made it incredibly hard to just be casual with him when he made you feel so loved and cared for.

He gently kissed down your neck and the exposed part of your shoulder from your tank top. The recording light clicked on and you took a deep breath. Well...it's now or never I guess. You pulled off Slash's tank top and he pulled off yours. Today was the one day you decided not to wear a bra and you were pretty glad you didn't. His hand caressed your breast as he kissed down your collarbone toward your nipples. His touch was soft and gentle. It seemed so different from his usual tough demeanor and calloused fingers.

He laid you back on the couch and you started to undo his pants. He quickly pulled you out of your jean shorts and tossed them to the side. You reached into his pants and carefully started to stroke him. He let out a low moan and started to push his pants off.

"You're so beautiful," Slash whispered as he licked across your chest. You couldn't help a small whine that fell from your mouth. He pushed his pants off and stroked himself as he looked down at you, "Are you sure you're okay with this?"

You nodded, "I'm sure."

He nodded and lined himself up with your entrance, "You're so incredibly beautiful."

You couldn't help the smile that spread across your face. He gently pushed into you and a long moan fell from your mouth. You had to really focus on not talking too much since it was being recorded. He smiled and paused to let you adjust. You nodded after a moment and he slowly rocked his hips, adjusting the angle until he found the spongy spot that made you cry out.

A long loud moan fell from your mouth and he let out a shaky breath. He hooked his arms around your leg and started to move faster. You grabbed onto his back, digging your nails in slightly earning a groan from him. He leaned down and whispered in your ear, "You're so good for me."

Your back arched slightly and you moaned. He smirked and started kissing your neck. He moved faster hitting that spot over and over again causing loud moans and gasps to fall from your mouth. Slash groaned as he watched you and muttered under his breath.

Your legs started to shake and your moans turned into more breathless whines as he pushed you closer and closer to your orgasm. That familiar coil wound up tightly in your stomach. He moved faster, ramming into you over and over. Sweat glistened on his body, he looked so good. He leaned down and started sucking on your neck, earning another loud moan from you.

"That's it," Slash muttered quietly and bit your neck. You let out a small screech and chuckled. He smiled against your neck and lifted your legs slightly as he rammed into you harder. Your hips bucked and you moaned out loudly as that band in your stomach snapped.

"Fuck... you're so good," Slash muttered. He pulled out and stroked himself quickly until he finished on your stomach. You both tried to catch your breath. The recording light clicked off and you both smiled.

"I don't think I want to be casual anymore," Slash said breathlessly. You furrowed your eyebrows.

"What?" You asked, slightly confused and breathless.

"I want the whole world to know you're mine. I don't want anyone else. I haven't wanted anyone else in a long time. I just want you and I want you to be mine," Slash said earnestly. He grabbed his shirt and helped wipe your stomach off not caring about the stains it would cause or the fact that he would now have to go the rest of the day without a shirt.

"Slash...I..." You were completely speechless.

"If that's not what you want I understand. I'll take whatever I can get with you," Slash chuckled slightly.

"No...no I don't want to be casual either," You said as you sat up. He smiled and kissed you softly. A different kind of passion and tenderness filled this kiss.

"You're the most beautiful woman I've ever met, and I want the whole world to know how lucky I am," Slash mumbled against your lips. You chuckled and wrapped your arms around his neck.

"Are you guys going to come out?" Axl yelled from the other side of the closed door.

Maybe you would, but right now all you cared about was Slash and all he cared about was you.

88 notes · View notes

rottenroyalebooks · 1 year

Text

It's a bad idea, right?

Series: The Mortal Instruments

Pairing: Jace Wayland x Fem!Reader

Genre: Angst to Fluff, Friends to Lovers

Warnings: Possibly OOC Jace, slight description of Reader (mainly that Jace is taller than her), use of Y/N. All characters are aged 18+.

Summary:

Y/N has a Warlock ex that seems to have her under his spell, metaphorically speaking, and every time he calls, she answers.

Jace has had enough of watching her go back to him repeatedly. Because they're friends, definitely not because he's in love with her or anything.

A/N: Guys, I have finally caved into my desires and am diving deep into the world of The Mortal Instruments. I watched most of the show a few years ago and saw the movie a few days ago, which led me to buy a box set of the 6 Mortal Instruments books. I am just about halfway through The City of Bones, so I still have a lot of learning to do. Forgive me if I need to correct something.

Also, I love all the show characters, but Movie Jace feels closer to Book Jace than Show Jace, so I am committed to Movie Jace for visual representation and Movie Jace only.

Does that make sense to you? Yes? Cool.

"You were where last night?" Izzy asked her a bit too loudly as she and Y/N walked into the weapons room where Alec and Jace were working on cleaning their weapons used from the previous mission.

Y/N shushed her as the two boys looked over, "Seriously, whatever happened to private girl talk?"

Izzy rolled her eyes, speaking lower than before so the guys wouldn't hear, "What ever happened to cutting him out of your life? Finding a new guy to get in your bed to get over him, that's why we went to Pandemonium last night, remember?"

Y/N huffed in response. Of course, she knew that's why Izzy and Clary dragged her to Pandemonium. It was a plan that she had yet to be very keen on. Izzy had gone to powder her nose, and Clary went to dance when Demetrius Black approached her on the dance floor, convincing her to leave with him.

It never took much convincing. He never went to Pandemonium, so she thought it was safe, but alas, she woke up in his bed again with her favorite tea made just the way she liked it on the nightstand next to her. He was nowhere to be seen.

Izzy rolled her eyes at the lack of response, "I need to put a tracker on you, like an outdoor cat." She turned on her heels and walked away.

Y/N sighed, running a hand through her hair before leaving the weapons room. She needed to punch something, so she soon found her way to the training room, where a punching bag sat calmly in the middle.

Then she beat the shit out of it.

"Stupid Demetrius and his stupidly charming attitude."

One Two.

"Stupid me for falling for it, again."

One Two Three.

"And stupid Mundane girl who couldn't keep her grimy hands to herself!"

With enough force of one last punch, the bag flew backward, hitting the wall as she let out a long groan of anger.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" Jace's voice appeared behind her making her jump out of her skin.

"Jesus Christ,"

"Not exactly." He smirked, but she ignored his comment.

"Do you feel the need to scare everyone or just me? Am I that special?" Sarcasm dripped from her lips as she began walking over to the punching bag so she could put it back in its usual location.

"Stop dodging my question. Do you want to talk about why you punched the bag across the room?"

She signed, letting the bag stand back up, "Will you try not to make fun of me for at least ten minutes if I tell you."

He chuckled, leaning against a pillar with his signature smug look, "I'll try my very best."

She couldn't look him in the eye, but she told him everything. From Izzy's plan to it failing when she left her alone for not even five minutes to waking up in her ex's bed again.

His expression was stoic throughout the entire time she was speaking; all of Jace's smugness and ego quickly flushed away as envy flooded his veins.

She didn't notice his change in expression because she refused to look at him.

"I know it's stupid, but it's like he put a spell on me."

"You have a permanent ruin to block any Warlock from using that magic on you."

She groaned, "I meant metaphorically." She plopped down on the bench and ran a hand through her hair.

"Well, I don't even know what you see in the Warlock-"

"Alec is with Mangus, and you never have anything to say about that, but when I date a Downworlder who has helped us just as much as Mangus has, you suddenly have an issue?"

He didn't have a chance to think before he spoke, blurting out, "I can't stand to see you hurting yourself with someone who doesn't deserve you."

Her head snaps to finally make eye contact; she lets her emotions talk without knowing what to think, "You don't get to decide who deserves me, Jace. You're not my father, and you're not my brother. Don't act like it."

He stepped closer to where she was sitting, "He cheated on you. Remember that? You cried to Clary and Izzy for days about it, then you cried yourself to sleep after all that," He saw the shocked look on her face, "We share a wall, remember? The same wall both of our beds are up against. I heard it all and witnessed you tear yourself apart from all the insecurities he gave you. So yes, I may not be in a position to say it, but I can say for certain that he doesn't deserve you."

The tension between the two shadow hunters was so thick that you could cut it with a knife. Neither of them said anything else, just stared at each other until she stood up and brushed past him.

"Thanks for the reminder."

Jace only watched as she left the room, wanting to walk after her but feeling paralyzed where he stood. He cursed under his breath and looked down at his feet.

It was his turn to send the punching bag flying across the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That night, the group went on a mission to track down a Vampire, killing humans left and right. Clary had poked around through the different nests in the city with Alec and Izzy, but none of them seemed to be acquainted with the rouge Vampire.

Jace and Y/N were tasked with searching Pandemonium for the Vampire or any information retaining it.

Things between them were still tense, and the others could see it, but Jace had been the one to wordlessly follow her to Pandemonium. The music was loud and beating through her head, making the memories from the night prior resurface, but she shook it off as she looked around for any suspicious Downworld behavior.

She and Jace had split up in the crowd, which meant she was alone when she felt her phone buzz in her back pocket. She pulled it out seeing a text from Demetrius:

Demetrius: I can tell you're working from how you dress tonight, but meet me at the bar. I might have the information you are searching for. ;)

Tensing up, she looks over at the bar seeing Demetrius leaning against it in all his glory, smirking knowingly at her. She pushed her hurt deep down and walked over to him.

"Well, you look lovely tonight, darling." He said, reaching out to touch her hair when she stopped about two feet away, but she smacked his hand away quickly.

"No time for pleasantries, Demetrius. Do you know anything about a Rouge Vampire, or are you wasting my time?"

"Playing hard to get tonight? Let me buy you a drink." He said as he waved to the bartender to get his attention.

She scoffed, shaking her head, "I knew this was a waste of time--" She stopped speaking when she backed into someone's chest; she didn't even need to look up to know it was Jace. She didn't realize he found them.

Jace didn't move at the contact; he only stared at Demetrius, who noticed he was standing there because she had stopped speaking.

"Oh look," he commented, bored, "It's the guard dog. Don't you have anything better to do than following her around like a lost puppy?"

"We're working, Demetrius." She spoke as Jace opened his mouth, cutting him off before a fight could break out, "Since you don't actually have any information for me, I am going to leave."

She brushed past Jace, leaving the two boys at the bar and disappearing into the crowd.

Jace followed her with his eyes until he knew she was out of earshot. Looking back at Demetrius with a glare that could kill a thousand men, he said, "If you come near her again, I will not hesitate to track you down and kill you myself."

Demetrius smirked, taking a sip from his drink, "And break The Clave's precious rules? From what she told me, you are one of those who respect the Covenant more than anything."

Jace took two steps forward, standing toe to toe with the Warlock, a look of pure hatred in his eyes, "I would break a thousand rules if it made her happy. I would break a thousand rules to make sure she is safe. Don't test me, Warlock."

Demetrius took another sip of his drink, "I always knew, from the moment I had the displeasure of meeting you, that you were in love with her. I watched as you protected her like a lovesick puppy even though she was head over heels in love with me. Now that she is single, why haven't you swept her off her feet to prevent her from falling into my bed?"

He leaned close to his ear, saying just above a whisper, "Maybe it's because you know she will never love you back."

Jace shoved him away, stalking off to get back to work. Only to watch as she left the storage room and in his direction; as she passed him, she said, "Threat has been neutralized, let's get out of here."

She was annoyed. Mostly at herself for thinking he wouldn't come back to her favorite club to antagonize her, but also at the fact that she had to take on a Vampire by herself because Jace decided to have a little chat with her ex.

At the same time, she was proud of herself for finally avoiding Demetrius' charm like the plague. Progress is Progress.

As she exited Pandemonium, she pulled out her phone and started texting Clary to let them know the Vampire was found and taken care of, but Jace pulled her phone out of her hands.

"I'll take that." He said as he went to her contacts lists.

Her jaw dropped, "Jace! Give that back!" She snapped, watching him smirk at her phone as he tapped the screen a few times before giving it back to her.

"First step, blocking your ex's number."

She rolled her eyes and brushed passed him. Raising her hand, a cab drove up to her almost immediately.

"How do you always get cabs so quickly?" He muttered loud enough for her to hear as he stood behind her protectively.

"It's a gift," she said flatly, getting into the cab and scooting over so Jace could get in, even though she wanted him to get his own taxi.

"You cant just avoid me forever." He said into her ear once she got comfortable after telling the driver where to drop them off.

She crossed her arms, staring straight ahead, "Watch me."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Jace, let you fight the Vampire by yourself?" Izzy asked her in the kitchen of the Institute, snacking on popcorn with Clary on the opposite side of her as the three girls usually did after a hunt.

"He didn't let me; he was at the bar talking with Demetrius. I thought he followed me into the crowd when I left the bar, but he wasn't behind me when I found the Vampire and pointed it out to him." She ran a hand through her hair and looked down, "I didn't want to lose him, so I followed the Vampire into the storage room, scared off the mundane that was with him, and killed the bloodsucker."

Clary laughed, "And you did it by yourself."

Y/N shrugged, "It was easy because he was a new Vampire who didn't have anyone to guide him."

"What did Jace say when you told him you took care of it?" Izzy tossed another piece of Popcorn into Clary's mouth, and she caught it successfully.

"He didn't react, just followed me out and got rid of Demetrius' contact on my phone."

Clary nearly choked on her popcorn before swallowing it, "He did what?"

Sighing, she nodded, "Yeah, talk about quitting cold turkey."

Izzy giggled, elbowing Clary lightly. "Maybe Jace will finally start courting her."

Y/N raised an eyebrow; Jace was into someone? That was new information, "Courting who? We don't come into contact with many shadow hunters unless he has a secret Mundane lover."

Blinking, Izzy looked from Clary to Y/N and back to Clary, "Is she serious?"

"I think she is."

"Okay, what are you two going on about?" She asked, crossing her arms over her chest, blinking at the two of them.

"How do we put this nicely-" Clary began speaking, but Izzy cut her off, "Jace has been in love with you since we were thirteen."

Taken aback, all Y/N could do was laugh, "What? No! You guys are crazy. The only person Jace loves is himself." She rolled her eyes, grabbing a few pieces of popcorn.

Clary spoke up, "When I first learned I was a Shadow Hunter and Jace brought me to the institute, I thought he was cute, but then I saw the way he looked at you, and I thought you two were a thing for a whole month until I saw you making out with a mundane near Pandemonium."

"I remember that!" Izzy giggled, turning to Y/N, "Clary freaked out and came running to me saying that you cheated on Jace and that we needed to tell him. It was so funny trying to explain to her that the two of you weren't a thing."

"My point is," Clary interjected, looking at Y/N, "Jace Wayland has been pining over you for so long. He's extra protective of you. When you came home crying a few months ago because the dirtbag cheated on you, Alec had to stop him from hunting him down and killing him without a second thought."

Y/N sank in her chair, blinking, "I had no idea."

"You're just a little oblivious; it's okay," Izzy said, patting her head.

She shook her head, "It's late. I'm going to bed."

She exited the chair and said goodnight to the two girls before leaving the kitchen.

She was going to bed, but then her feet decided to take her to where she knew Jace would be at this time of night.

The garden.

She opened the door quietly, searching for the blond among the flowers and plants, when she spotted him sitting on a bench. He was reading a book that she couldn't read the title of because of how old it was. She walked over to him and placed her hands in her sweater pockets, "You know how to read?"

He looked up at her from his book, "Sneaking up on people is supposed to be my thing."

"You'll have to learn how to share. May I sit?"

He nodded, closing the book with a bookmark between the pages, and moved to one side of the bench to make room for her to sit, "Are you okay?"

She nodded, "I will be. Thank you for being there for me back at Pandemonium and in the training room earlier today. I needed to hear the truth. Even though my stance on the fact you need to work on your comforting skills stays intact." She teased him lightly, making him chuckle.

"I'm sorry you had to deal with the Vampire alone while I was defending your honor; it won't ever happen again."

"It better not." She chuckled, leaning back and relaxing on the bench, stifling a yawn, "Because I might just have to kill you myself, then."

"As if you would dare lay a mark on my greatest asset." He gestured to his face making Y/N roll her eyes and slapped his hand away.

"That ego of yours is going to be the death of me one day. Do I have to worry about you falling in love with your own reflection and drowning because of it like Narcissus?"

Letting out a laugh, Jace shook his head, looking up at the time on his watch, the very one she had gotten him for his last birthday, "It's getting late. You need rest."

"So do you," she fired back, standing up and glaring at him, "We need you at the top of your game, come on."

He chuckled, standing up and holding the book against his hip as they left the garden together and walked through the Institute.

"Do you need some tea to help you relax?" She asked, tilting her head up at him.

He smiled down at her, "No, I can manage."

They approached their rooms silently, he walked her to her door, and she nodded, "Goodnight, Jace."

He watched as she disappeared into her room, closing the door behind her, but he didn't move to his room next door, even though he should have.

No, he thought about how he realized Demetrius' words were true. He loved her and didn't know what to do with this information.

He raised his hand to knock on her door again, wanting to get the rejection over with, but just before his fist could make contact with the wood, the door opened, followed by her voice saying, "Jace, wait." before getting cut off by realizing he was standing there still.

The two stood there wordlessly, staring at each other. No one knew who made the first move that night, but soon Y/N felt his hands cupping her face as their lips touched.

It felt right, kissing Jace; he was gentle yet passionate, as if he were making up for the lost time, which he was. As it turned out, so was she.

When they broke apart for air, nothing could stop their mutual smiles from appearing on their faces as Jace rested his forehead on hers.

"Sleep in my room tonight? We can talk about this in the morning."

He nodded, picking her up over his left shoulder, causing a light squeal to leave her lips as he walked into the room, closing the door with his foot.

#writers of tumblr #fanfiction #rottenwrites #shadowhunters #the mortal instruments #jace wayland #jace wayland x reader #alec lightwood #isabelle lightwood #clary fairchild #shadow hunters fic #x reader #i don't know if i like this but I'm posting it anyway

445 notes · View notes

piratecaptainscaptainpirates · 8 months

Text

I think the thing that bothers me the most about the semi-popular fandom idea that Ed and Izzy ever had a romantic/sexual relationship or that it's accurate to describe the dynamic as Stede being a "homewrecker" in their relationshihp is how these ideas deny Ed so much agency.

For me, the most interesting thing about Ed and Izzy's relationship is they fundamentally do not understand each other, even down to how they would describe their relationships with each other. For Izzy? Yeah, I'm sure he does see himself as a jilted spouse. There's no doubt he's attracted to Blackbeard (not Ed, as much), but honestly during s1 I don't think you could waterboard that out of him. Izzy has a very specific idea of how Ed should behave, and often dehumanizes him as a result - he doesn't see Stede as a romantic rival, he sees him as someone who is poisoning Ed and "making" him behave in ways that Izzy doesn't feel are appropriate (singing, painting his nails, being vulnerable in front of the crew, etc.).

But for Ed, it's very much more like "this guy reminds me a lot of my father and other controlling male figures in my life, I need to keep him around because he's predictable to me, and I'm sure I don't need to unpack that." Ed's attempts to connect with Izzy on a personal level (showing him trinkets he finds interesting, talking about things that interest him, etc.) are constantly rebuked if he's not acting Blackbeard-y enough. Izzy caressing Ed's face and looking at his lips after threatening him and goading him to react with violence in s1e10 makes Ed extremely visibly uncomfortable. When Izzy confesses his ""love"" for Ed in s2, Ed responds with absolute confusion (if you tell someone you love them and they bluescreen and then say "oh come onnnn," like, I'm sorry, but they don't feel the same way, dude).

Their relationship is very complicated and nuanced and it is delicous to dig into. But these two people do not understand each other at all. Izzy (at least in s1-early s2) thinks he and Blackbeard have this intense deep warrior's bond and understanding that goes beyond words, and for Ed Izzy is this guy whose behavior is very controlling, who isolates him and insults him, but who he still often feels like he needs to have in his life on some level (another way Izzy is such a powerful representation of the Blackbeard persona).

I just don't think there's any way Ed has ever seen Izzy in even a vaguely romantic way. He responds with nothing but confusion and discomfort when Izzy behaves towards him romantically, and he only says "I loved you, best I could," right after he thinks Izzy's shot himself, right after he put that gun in Izzy's hand and asked him to kill Ed (to finish the job Izzy started when he told Ed he was better off dead than being Ed), right after Izzy mocked him for being too scared to kill himself - Ed and Izzy are deeply, fundamentally incompatible people, and that's exactly why their dynamic is so interesting!

#ofmd #our flag means death #izzy critical #< eh I guess?#more like fanon critical but still

194 notes · View notes

unknownperson246 · 17 days

Text

a/n: can you make duff and izzy’s sister reader that he just met but instantly fell in love with her to make the moans in rocket queen pls?

hi there everyone seems to love Rocket Queen fan fiction 🤷‍♀️. I don’t know why everyone loves them lol but it’s okay because I love writing them

Fuming With Anger:

Words: 567

Warnings: *smut* *p in v* *cussing*

✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ:*

You were Izzy’s little sister. You were 3 years younger than him. Izzy and you always had an amazing relationship as siblings. Both of you would hang out even on the days he was on tour. Some days he would drag you along with his band and sometimes his friend Duff would come over. Duff had a crush on you for a long time. You thought he was cute but you weren’t really into the idea of dating your brother's friends until Duff made you a paper flower. You thought it was a very sweet and kind gesture. You wanted to finally go out on a date with Duff. One day Duff invited you over to the studio without Izzy or the rest of the band knowing anything. Duff was there alone with a microphone.

“Hi Duff, why did you call me down?” You asked him with deep curiosity.

“Just thought we could record something” A smirk crept up on Duff's lips.

“Sure what did you wanna record” you asked Duff.

“Okay so me and the guys wanted to record Rocket Queen and all you have to do is fake moan,” Duff said.

“That’s all?” You asked.

“Maybe we can make it real moans” you smirked, kissing Duff on his lips.

Duff froze in place. His fantasies about you were coming true. He was shocked that you kissed him. He let it happen. He felt himself harden with your touch. You watched the bulge grow and you immediately ripped off his pants. Without wasting one second Duff started the microphone to capture the sounds the tape recorder was recording. You grabbed Duff's big dick and placed it at your entrance. Shivers went down Duff's spine seeing you naked. He felt kind of embarrassed that he had a crush on his bandmate's sister.

“This doesn’t feel right,” Duff said jokingly

“Well, what do you mean?” You asked Duff before sticking his tip inside of you.

“You're Izzy’s little sister,” Duff said.

“I can keep it a secret if you can Duffy,” you said, playing with his hair with your right hand while your left hand was holding his dick in place.

“I like that,” Duff said, coming closer to you.

“Mmm so big” you moaned as you let him enter you.

You felt heavy thrusts inside of your pussy. Duff picked you up while he kept thrusting inside of you back and forth. After your hips collided you finally let out some satisfying moans for Duff.

“Fuck. Ohhhhhhh” a very exaggerated moan left your vocal cords. You cry out as your arms hold onto his warm body.

You felt his legs shake. His head crashed back into the wall and it left a hole. He didn’t even notice the pain. He was only focused on you.

“Y/N,” he groaned in pleasure. He held on to your tits trying to feel your body close to him.

His whole body would soon lean against the wall he pulled out and came all over the floor. You collapsed onto the ground feeling lightheaded from all of the overstimulation of him hitting your g spot multiple times. You and Duff both fell asleep on the studio couch. The next morning the whole band walked in on you in Duff's shirt that was oversized on you and your panties. You were lying down next to each other. Izzy was fuming with anger.

65 notes · View notes

canonizzyhours · 3 months

Note

something that always strikes me every time I rewatch the show is that izzy is neither as good or evil as the main two takes seem to be. like he is an asshole, and an antagonist, sure. he's not some misunderstood good guy with ed's best interests at heart, but there's a level of genuineness to him (which mainly comes from con's choices and not the writing, tbf) that my/our(?) side of the fandom seems to ignore. I think a lot of it comes from the fact that izzy sees himself as doing what's right. he's not a gleeful asshole the way nigel and ricky are. he believes he's doing what's best for ed even though he isn't. this deep relationship he has with ed is very real to him. izzy 100% genuinely believes he is closer to ed than anyone else in the world (and like... that bit's probably true. izzy is not the open and available type. the problem is that the reverse isn't true at all).

what makes izzy interesting to me is how three-dimensional he is. it's the combination of all his issues around sexuality and masculinity. it's the way he pleads so damn genuinely with ed in 1x09 not to sign the act of grace and to stick with him instead. he is a successful manipulator and only doing it on purpose half the time. he's deeply socially awkward. he can't read ed for shit. I feel like everyone focuses too much on either his humanity or his bad traits, turning him into a misunderstood puppydog antihero or just a boring flat asshole. he's an asshole with real feelings which is what makes him so captivating!!

#420.

#ofmd #izzy hands #edward teach #edizzy #canonizzyhours

111 notes · View notes

pavardscherie · 1 year

Text

― what i deserve ;; pablo gavi & pedri gonzalez ;; part one

⤷ pairing: pablo gavi x f!reader ;; pedri gonzalez x f!reader ⤷ summary: your relationship with gavi ended after he cheated on you. time has passed, pedri always checked up on you with small messages until he invited you to one of the home games. somewhere between losing your heart to pedri; gavi still attempts to get you back. ⤷ warnings: curse words ;; injuries ;; mentions of blood ;; hand around throat ;; explicit sex scenes ;; asshole!gavi ;; cheating ;; violence in fights ;; spanking ;; dom & sub ;; dirty talk ;; teasing ;; very deep feelings & conversations ;; slight triangle thing but not most of the time ;; second chances kinda ;; friends to lovers ;; not proofread & probably horrible written kiss scenes lol ⤷ izzy's notes: first part here we go! it took me so long tbh, but like, i swear i got distracted by pedri (& reading other's imagines about pedri lol). tell me what you think if you want!

Seven Months passed. Multiple calls turned into none. Messages vanished from your lockscreen, and for the first time, when you stared down at your phone, it seemed more like a blessing than torture. The reminders of an unhealthy relationship rested in the back of your mind, stopping the painful memories of being cheated on to resurface.

It’s been almost a month since you found yourself, enjoying casual football games again. Raised by a very determined father, who cheered from the couch or in the middle of the fans for his favorite club, he passed his knowledge to you before he became the beautiful picture in the settling sun.

Avoiding Camp Nou to increase the distance between you and your former boyfriend, the stadium pulled you back one day. It all started with a call, you never expected to receive. On the other side of the line, waited a nervous Pedri with an invitation to one of his home games. After the awful break up with Gavi, the friendship between you and his best friend crumbled quickly.

At least, once in a while, you received a short text message, asking about your well-being but after answering, you never received another. The game of two messages in a month lasted until the surprising call reached you and suddenly, Pedri found himself in your inbox almost each day.

And somehow, even after declining his invitation multiple times in a row, you ended up in the secluded section of the stands, reserved for family members and people close to the players. It was new to you to be treated like a special addition in someone’s life as Gavi never offered you such a seat.

Your little flag draped over the bouncing legs, the anxiety had you trembling. An empty stomach caused your chest to tighten, as your eyes skimmed across the still empty pitch. It would be the first time of seeing Gavi again, after checking his latest social media posts once in a while. Snapchat let you in on the multiple parties he visited over the past months; in each picture another girl with high hopes of feeling his undivided love wrapped around his biceps. It was pathetic in many ways, especially that you still shed a tear while staring at the photo, and compared yourself to the different types of women.

Gavi never really had a particular type. He just enjoyed the thought of having too many gush about him.

Loud music boomed through the stadium, the announcer’s voice mixed with the beat as he welcomed the fans of both teams. After a quick speech about the upcoming match, the team was shown on the large four screen on each side of Camp Nou.

Fans shouted the last names of the players, some louder and some swallowed by the warm air of the early summer day until two faces appeared. Number Thirty, Gavi. His face appeared on the screen, the pillow-like lips without a curl and the arms crossed. He still looked like the guy, you met over a year ago.

Yet, the fans were equally excited when Pedri’s number was shown. Black hair carefully brushed down, the ends of his strands scattered across the forehead and the arms crossed like Gavi had before.

Eyes glued to the screen in front of you, you paid no attention to the players, running onto the pitch in their pre-match jackets and warming up for exhausting ninety minutes without additional time. Discomfort replaced the emptiness, and you suddenly wanted nothing more than to stand up, and run out of Camp Nou — away from the upcoming confrontation, and seeing Gavi question Pedri’s intentions.

Nervously, your trembling fingers brushed the loose strands of hair out of the face, attempting to forget about the little voice in the back of your head — shouting at you to run as fast as you could. You were close to the field, almost too close for your liking as it seemed so easy to notice your attendance.

Maybe it was a mistake to show up; even after Pedri’s words turned into a sweet begging. You should have declined his attempts, should have watched the match from home and switching channels quickly when Gavi appeared on the screen. Same routine as the past year.

“I thought you would dodge.” A familiar, gentle voice demanded your attention, the source standing right in front of the stands. Your head snapped around, almost quick enough to tear a muscle, as you were faced with Pedri. A ball tightly in one hand, his lips curled into a sweet smile. Black strands styled upwards on the front, dressed in the Barcelona kit and a pre-match jacket, his eyes glued on you.

“I accepted; how could I dodge then?” Your elbow propped up on your knee to stop the nervous bouncing of your leg, you placed your chin in your palm. “I’m not that mean.” Emphasizing the the second to last word, Pedri’s head dipped down, and chuckled mildly.

“I can’t judge that, it’s been a while.” The ball rolled out of his grip and bounced on the grass until being trapped underneath the studs of his football shoes. “I didn’t tell him, you’re here. He doesn’t really deserve to know about your presence.”

Pedri was Gavi’s best friend, they shared secrets with each other and even trained out of the club together. Through your relationship, you became close friends with Pedri as well. And you were thankful for it, as he forced Gavi into telling you how he messed up that one night. If it wasn’t for Pedri, you still would be trapped in a very toxic relationship with a man, who used your trust for nightly adventures.

“Thank you.” You mouthed, this time letting the small smile tugging on the corners of your mouth break through. “Score a goal for me, yeah?”

Pedri raised a bushy eyebrow, surprised by what you demanded from him after losing contact for way too long. Yet, nothing has changed, you were still irresistible in each possible way for him. Turning away from you to dribble towards the teammates, Pedri glanced over his shoulder for a second time and raised his hand to show you a simple thumbs up. Enough of an answer for the question, as the midfielder found his way to his partner in crime on and off the pitch.

The game was in the hands of Barcelona, holding the ball in their possession the longest, and playing in the half of the enemy team. Close to scoring the lead goal, they stood in the twenty-ninth minute when a particular, harsh foul coaxed a gasp out of your mouth. A frustrated defensive player from Villareal decided to slide-tackle Pedri, the studs on his shoes hitting the ankle of the midfielder with full force instead of the rolling ball.

With a loud scream, filled with pain, Pedri fell to the ground, clutching his ankle between both hands. Pain twisted in his expression, and you jumped up from the seat, throwing your hands in the air. Camp Nou was filled with Barcelona supporters who booed and shouted insults through the stands.

Pedri was the last friend you had left, the last person that actually attempted to ask about your well-being even if he never answered another message until writing again. Seeing him, crumbled, laying on the ground, triggered the bubbled-up anger inside of you.

"Idiots!" You suddenly shouted; the insult rolled off your tongue quicker than you were able to process in your head. The medical team hurried across the field, pushing the Barcelona players out of the way to take a closer look at the ankle. While your eyes glistened with worry, they drifted from the ground to another person, ruffling the hands nervously through the hair and staring down at his best friend. Gavi.

Delicate palms pressed against the cold, silver bars which were used as a railing, you stared at the horrific incident, and how the medical's started to help Pedri off the field. But the midfielder's mind changed with the first steps, shaking his head and hands to explain that he belonged on the pitch; and wanted to stay. The referee behind them, blew his whistle, pointing his fingers annoyed at the watch around his wrist. Waving him off, Pedri hobbled off the field and the game continued quickly. At least three minutes have passed, if not longer, and it would be added at the end of the first half.

Still leaning across the railing, you tried to steal a glance at the coaching bench to see if Pedri was truly doing better, or playing the tough guy while his ankle swelled in a deep navy blue and wine purple. The medical team focused completely on the midfielder, inspecting how harsh the contact was and how strong the pain was. Losing Pedri in the midfield position would be a devastating start into the game.

The match continued, with Barcelona forced to play with one man less; and the opponents immediately tried to use the fact to their advantage. You couldn’t find a second to glance away from the painful twist on Pedri’s face. Eyes squeezed close, the bottom lip assaulted by his teeth as the medic’s pressed their fingers deeply against different spot around his ankle.

Minutes passed, and Xavi decided a substitute for the struggling Pedri was needed on the pitch. Displeased by the quick exchange, he rolled his eyes but swallowed the unattractive curse words which wanted to escape his mouth. Cheerful sounds rang in your ears, the fans around you jumping to their feet with the arms stretched into the warm spring air. Lewandowski once again scored a goal for Barcelona; with an assist from none other than number thirty. Gavi, who ran over to the much taller man, jumping straight on his back for a piggyback ride.

Pedri clapped his hands from the sideline, still seated in the grass while a bandage was wrapped around the swollen ankle; a thick pack of ice hidden between the layers. While the team hugged, and congratulated Robert for another perfect lead goal, Gavi jogged along the sideline towards his best friend for their very own celebration. Head tilted to the side, acknowledging the different aged females that screamed his name in a high-pitched, loud voice, with a wave and a smile.

But the curve of his mouth dropped, when his gaze drifted through the front row of the stands, bathing in the applause; and suddenly, drawn in by your presence.

A black, woolen jacket over the shoulders, the sleeves in your delicate palms. Underneath the thin material of a cardigan was a tight-cropped shirt, showing a small line of exposed skin until the charcoal-colored cargo pants perfected the chosen outfit. Hair, partly in a messy bun, the loose strands falling freely over your shoulders.

An appearance that reminded him of the first nights, you spent together. You were never a person for the tight dresses, or the overusing of makeup, and the confessions immediately drew Gavi in. But this time, your worried gaze wasn’t focused on him, you were staring at the injured man next to the coach’s bench. Concern twisted your features, eyebrows pulled down in a frown when Pedri winced as the ice bag was pressed tighter against the purple marks.

You visited Camp Nou for Pedri; for Gavi’s best friend. Unfortunately, the thought of seeing his mate touch you, kiss you, or even more, bothered him. A sudden wave of jealousy overcame Pablo, turning away from the sidelines as the referee blew the whistle for the third time, and already rummaged through the little pocket on the front of his polo shirt.

Trembling fingers brushed through the damp, chestnut strands as Gavi received the first booking of the night. And all he had left as an answer, was a subtle shrug of his shoulders instead of throwing a fit. He did not understand the sudden, unknown pinches in his heavy-breathing chest, or the reason behind the drifting gaze of his eyes to see if you were still in the stands and not already by Pedri's side.

A trail of thoughts, seeing you with his best friend entangled, bothered his mind and increased the difficulty of focusing solely on the last minutes of the first half. In seconds, he remembered the scent you carried around like a shield of protection, a fruity mixture of raspberries and vanilla. It was never a perfume like he assumed in the beginning, it was just a tube of shower gel. Those memories never bothered his concentration before, all it needed to remind him, was a glance at your face.

The referee blew the whistle once more, ending the first half of the match with a leading goal for Barcelona. And it did not take you longer than a minute to find a way out of the stands and to the catacombs. Your face was a familiar one, the security guards were still the same from the time you were by Gavi's side. An advantage for you, as they casually nodded their heads and let you through to the entrance of the tunnels. Brushing the thin strands out of the face while jogging down the corridor, the hem of your sleeves tightly between the delicate palm and soft fingertips.

Anxiety burst through your body in irregular waves when you reached the entrance to the pitch. Greeted by multiple familiar faces, your unfocused gaze drifted through the crowd, trying to find the injured midfielder. "How ironic." The rough voice twisted your stomach, the all-too-familiar melody, you once loved to listen to for more than six months. Stopping in your tracks, like the soles of your shoes were rooted to the tiled floor, you swallowed the breath you held without notice. Before you had a chance to find Pedri, and assure yourself that the concern was deeply unnecessary, Gavi found your worked-up self. „Can‘t stay away from me, huh?“

Arrogance infiltrated Pablo‘s voice, showing off the admiration he received over the past months as a shield and a new part of his personality. Confidence always lingered in his body, but the way he spoke, wasn’t similar to what you remembered. Teeth gritted, the anger bubbled in the pit of your stomachs. Anger twisted your insides, tainted your gentle heart and attempted to push you into a blinded rage. Accusing him of what he has done, how easily he played with your heart and tossed you away, but the worse part was the way, he tore your soul apart with his lies and words. Delicate fingers clenched into tight fists, the manicured nail dug into the sensitive skin of your palms.

Little needles pierced your heart, and the pain tightened your chest. You wanted to scream at him, make a fool out of yourself in the middle of the faces, you became all too familiar with. Turning around to face the arrogant curve of his mouth, Gavi stood against the wall. Studs against the stones, arms crossed over the Barcelona Jersey with the number thirty and his name. Chestnut strands in a devilish mess, thick hairs stuck to his sweaty forehead but the curl of his lips, the smugness written in the corners was the only part of him, you were able to focus on. It did not matter how attractive he was in any situation, the actions he did turned him into an ugly person for you. "Hermanito, she's not here for you. I invited her to the game." Pedri's gentle voice echoed through the corridor, capturing the attention of the two ex-lovers. Gavi rolled his eyes, tilting the head to the side while yours snapped in the direction of the entrance to the pitch at the first tone.

One arm draped over the shoulders of a medic, Pedri was carried inside on one foot. Your heart hammered against your ribcage, he was still in pain, but he did not intend to show an ounce of it. Pedri's gaze drifted away from the glimpse of annoyance in Gavi's expression, and to your face. Gentle features twisted by emotions, anger, and confusion, but also concern overshadowed the pureness.

„Are you okay?“ Carefully, you took a step towards the injured player, who assured the medic‘s that he was fine enough to walk further on his own. „That looked harsh, is it broken? I hope not.“ You rambled on between questions and expressing your concern as the distance closed between the two of you, and Pedri stepped into your little personal bubble.

Gavi‘s existence was not acknowledged by you anymore, the groan that slipped past his lips swallowed by the thick air in the catacombs. "No, it's swollen but it's nothing too serious. I'm benched for the rest of the game though."

"At least, it's nothing too bad! I almost jumped off the stands after hearing your scream." The words she attempted to hold inside, spilled out of her mouth, and admitted the intense moments of concern she went through. "Don't worry, again." Pedri chuckled, waving the worry away with his hand. "But it's flattering to know that you declined my invitation way too many times, just to sit in the stands weeks later and jump out of your seat because I got tackled.” While Pedri did not leave a second to spare to share a flirtatious comment with you, Gavi swallowed the heavy mixture of breath and oxygen. A lump in the throat, the need to leave the hallways indescribable but his hooded eyes were glued to the scene. Curiosity forced him to stay in his place, curiosity about how far the encounter would evolve.

„Well..“ You trailed off, swaying from your weight from the left to the right while deciding what words to say. „You’re my friend.“ A gentle smile plastered over your face as the answer slipped out so easily. But what you didn’t see, was the little flinch in Pedri‘s proud posture, the way he almost considered taking a step back and leaving your personal bubble again after hearing the word friend. For him, you were always irresistible, he never understood how his best friend chose hundreds of others when the perfect example of a caring girlfriend was right in front of him.

But the scene, the awkwardness that unfolded between the two of you caused a loud laugh to slip out of Gavi‘s mouth. Suddenly, he was relieved that he stayed to witness how you called him a friend with such ease. “All that work for being pushed into the friend zone again.“ He clapped his hands together, pushing himself off the wall to walk towards the changing rooms. „Maybe, she‘s still too much into me, hermanito.“ Pablo disappeared, including himself in the round of multiple conversations between his teammates. Thoughts vanished when you confessed Pedri was just another friend; leaving you alone with him in the corridor suddenly did not bother Gavi anymore. Satisfied by your words, satisfied to see that you just could not move on from what he gave you, plastered a wide smirk across his face. At least Pablo told himself that you weren’t able to leave him in the past to smooth his growing ego. Glimpses of confidence and pride written over the curl of his mouth.

"Maybe, you can watch the second half from the stands with me?" You fiddled with the ties on your cargo pants, avoiding as much eye contact as possible. Gavi's words triggered another wave of pure anger, and it was difficult to decide if calling Pedri a friend was the wrong or a good choice. "Just you know, if your coach allows it." Shrugging the shoulders, asking such a question felt oddly weird. And waiting for an answer gave rise to your nervousness.

"I have to change first, then there shouldn't be a reason not to be able to." Asking for his company in the stands, with the almost invisible watermelon-pink tint across the span of your cheeks, allowed another spark of hope to ignite in Pedri's stomach.

Taking a liking to his best mate's ex-girlfriend wasn't the greatest move, but Pablo knew the best, that Pedri fancied you for much longer than he actually said. With a quick nod, the injured midfielder stumbled into the changing room and immediately received a warm welcome, and questions about his foot from his teammates. Except for his best friend, Gavi stayed in the corner of the room, drowning a bottle of water while his intense glare never left Pedri's smiling face. And the number thirty of the Barcelona Football Club was the first to leave the locker room again, leaving behind a confused Balde, and stumbling straight into your gaze again.

Somehow, his features moved on their own. Furrowed brows relaxed, and the corners of his mouth lifted, much to your dismay. “You could have done anything.” Gavi pointed a single finger at you, closing the distance with slow steps. The woolen cardigan suddenly felt too warm, too tight wrapped around your numb limbs at the sight. For months, you avoided social media, the news and even football as a whole to not come in contact with regret. Remorse for not answering his incoming text messages about spending time together again, the multiple question marks that filled your inbox and even worse, the filthy words he sent without hesitation, which your body accepted and reacted to way too quickly. “And yet, you chose my best friend as a reasonable excuse to watch me again.”

Shaking your head to answer his words without having to use your trembling voice, defending the leftovers of your pride, you failed ultimately when Gavi caged you between his sweaty body and the cold brick wall. Calloused palm placed beside your head, he used his free one to let his warm fingertips dance over the span of your cheeks. “Still so beautiful, even after I ruined you so many times.” The whispers triggered the memories, the moments you locked away in your mind — yet, not deeply enough for Gavi to easily access them.

Nights, you spent at his newly bought house. Wrapped tightly in the comfort of the black blanket, his naked chest pressed against your bare, arched back. Rough fingertips dug into the sensitive skin around your throat, pressing your windpipe barely together. It was never meant to hurt you, the ecstasy was his greatest reason. His hips snapped against your ass, diving deeper into the warmth of your walls. Moans filled the in darkness drowned bedroom, the dim light of the moon illuminating the side of your face. Lids fluttered close, just like those nights when Gavi was in the mood to ruin you.

But he chuckled, nonchalantly and pulled your mind out of the daydream that played like a movie in front of your closed eyes. Forcing the lids open, your pupils dilated in slight shock. Months of preparation weren’t enough to decline Gavi any access to your mind. But what was worse was the rapid pace of your heartbeat or the painful hammering against your rib cage that he was able to feel. The hand on your cheek started to travel south, fingertips caressed along your jaw, over the side of your throat, and towards your chest. Palm softly pressed against the material of your shirt, fitting perfectly between your breasts, his lips curled upwards in satisfaction when your heart boomed against his sprawled-out hand. „Still the same reaction and yet, you think Pedri could offer you what I‘ve given you.“ Head tilted to your height, just a couple of centimeters smaller than him, his warm breath fanned over your glossy lips

"Tell me that you're still mine, carino." Gavi muttered into the thin air that was caught between your mouth and his. Shaking your head with the last bit of willpower, and the unsettling feeling of shame in the pit of your stomach as he played his little mind games with you, your lips brushed over his repeatedly but never closed the gap. „You ruined me one too many times, darling.“ You hissed, wiggling yourself out of his trap and stepping to the side as the door to the locker room opened, and multiple players walked outside. It was the last piece of self-confidence that slipped out of your mouth and defended your honor. Mistakes were made, repeated way too often and kept as long-term secrets throughout the relationships. Gavi's disrespect to you as a woman was enough to turn him into an unattractive person. Yet, you questioned yourself if the sentence you spoke, wasn't too harsh.

Suddenly, your shoes became an interesting view to avoid Gavi's lingering gaze and the quick glances of the passing players. But Pedri's appearance went by unnoticed, his white sneakers the first thing you see. Taking in his body, the left hem of his cargo pants settled underneath his knee to decrease the pressure on the swollen ankle, the charcoal color an extravagant sight on his tanned skin. Paired with a hoodie, he adjusted the pieces of clothing to the warm weather, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. A small black bag underneath his arm, keeping the most important essentials like his phone, and money inside of it. "You look a little flushed." Pedri used one of his hands to show with his long fingers the strawberry red tint across your cheeks, on his own face. Unfortunately, his words did not help to calm down your irregular breathing, or the intense pounding in your chest.

Any second longer at Camp Nou spread the discomfort in your body, shifting the weight from your left foot to the right to overshadow how much you trembled from the minutes with Gavi alone. Telling Pedri about his best friends' assault on his former lover would be absurd, after all, he was just a piece between Pablo and you. A friend for the two of you, but quietly cheering for your side. Clothes, way too tightly wrapped around your heavy limbs. Pedri's gentle face, radiating too much for your comfort.

"I think, I might just skip." You muttered, tilting the head to the side to avoid witnessing how the disappointment and the surprise twisted Pedri's features. Guilt bubbled in the pit of your stomach, inviting the midfielder first and then immediately taking back your words, and wanting to leave the stadium. Just in the span of five minutes, the glimpse of hope in Pedri's body vanished. Your sudden confession was a surprise to him, already attempting to find the mistakes he made that caused any discomfort to your figure. But the search never found a reasonable result. "Oh, I can sit at the coach's bench if you don't want to watch the game with me, it's fine." Pedri suggested immediately, trying to take the blame for the ways she felt without knowing what kind of emotions mixed in the pit of her stomach. "What?" You reacted quickly, the question tumbling out of your mouth as your eyebrows rose in confusion. Just for a simple second, you were clueless why he offered such a proposition but it hit you quickly.

"You said, you want to skip." Pedri's calloused palm placed over his neck, the fingertips scratching over the small hair and tanned skin. "I guess, you meant watching the game with me."

"Oh my gosh." You facepalmed yourself, letting your soft hand caress over you face. Strawberry red tint spread further across your cheeks and the bridge of your nose, showcasing a sign of shame. "I didn't mean watching the game together, it was more about the entire second half. I think I will skip the rest of the game, I don't really feel prepared enough to watch Pablo longer than needed after his rude interruption." Palm pressed to your flushed cheek, your tried to hide the hues of bright crimson red tainting your smooth skin.

“Oh.” Pedri chuckled, a very calm and light-hearted sound as the relief washed over him. “Understood. He can be a real pain in the ass.” Since Gavi transferred to Barcelona Football Club underaged, and him and Pedri became best mates. Driving as the passenger of the midfielder’s forest green mini became a ritual, the fans always knowing if they saw Pedri’s car, Gavi wouldn’t be way too far. “I really hope you don’t mind. Maybe next time, the circumstances are better.” You almost apologized for looking after yourself once again, offering Pedri a gentle smile as you turned around to leave the cursed corridors of Camp Nou.

“I can drive you home.” Pedri was quick with his suggestion, taking a step forward to wrap his long fingers around your wrist and stop the distance from growing. The little contact; just the way his warm fingertips carefully pressed against your pulsating veins, caused another blush to creep its way across the span of your cheeks and increase the heat that already put your body on flames.

Like the watermelon pink attempted to tell you that the ignited fire wasn't a usual feeling. Admiration resurfaced, the slight crush you had on the midfielder before Gavi asked you out prominent in the way your face twisted. Letting the sensation linger, the warmth spread over your skin, you tried to tug your arm away from his embrace. Instead of another attempt to convince you of his offer, Pedri's finger loosened, your limb slipping out of his grip and out of reach, without taking a step forward. "Only if you feel comfortable enough to share a car with me." Pedro added to his suggestion, witnessing how your body language changed. Muscles tensed with his touch, your voice barely audible as your heavy breaths overshadowed the words. And for merely a moment, Pedri questioned the way he almost tried to persuade you into spending time with him — even if it was just a lame car ride.

Delicate and soft palms wiped over your face, probably ruining the layers of make up you covered your blemished skin with. Choosing Pedri’s company could be a chance to feel a moment of mild comfort again. After all, he cared enough for your well-being to ask many, many times. Even when you decided not to answer the first text messages because you thought Gavi would be the reason behind the sudden interest. But it wasn’t, it has never been. “Sure, it’s better than being alone right now.” You accepted with hesitation as your mind traveled through the worst-case scenarios. While you walked through the corridors towards the parking lot where the signature green mini waited, you heard how the fans chanted Gavi’s name like a beautiful melody as another goal extended the lead. Another ball hitting the back of the net, another time number thirty scored for Barcelona.

Bathing in the applause, the attention and how needy the girls at the front of the stands tried to reach out, Gavi smiled at the cameras. The curl of his mouth plastered across his face, the burst of happiness faded when the drifting gaze of his deep hazelnut orbs didn’t find your face in the crowd. Empty seats in the secluded section, his head snapped to the coach’s bench to find Pedri. But his best mate was missing too.

Unfortunately, the realization and the negative thoughts forced Gavi into a wave of blinded rage. He knew immediately, he would leave the pitch with another booking — just no one knew if it would be a simple yellow as usual, or a deeply crimson red one.

663 notes · View notes