#or what he's holding or why it's on fire or-

[cameronsbabydoll]

what are some habits military!rafe can't get rid of that lowkey icks reader when he extends that attitude at home?

i've heard stories about fathers being more of an unwarranted boss in the house than a daddy to his kids because the way they "care" is by being strict

military!rafe habits that give reader the ick (just a little):

1. “that’s not how we do it.”

reader: folding laundry while watching reality TV

rafe, out of nowhere: “doll, towels go vertical then horizontal—military standard.”

reader: looks at him like he's insane

like sir. this is not a base. this is target brand cotton and my living room.

2. the barking.

he doesn’t mean to—but his voice gets loud fast.

“shoes. off. at the door.”

“babe, c’mon. it’s just the carpet—”

“don’t wanna track nothin’ in. standard.”

the toddler drops their snack? he’s already halfway to the broom like it’s a fire drill.

3. early wakeups.

he’s up at 5 AM and cannot comprehend why the rest of the house isn’t.

coffee brewed, protein shake blended, baby still snoring in their crib—and he’s poking you like,

“babe. it’s nearly sun-up. don’t you wanna seize the day?”

you’re under three blankets like: i wanna seize the pillow.

4. the “no excuses” mentality.

you cry because you're overwhelmed with the baby? tired? hormonal?

he means well, but sometimes he hits you with:

“you think i didn’t wanna quit during boot camp?”

and you’re like sir, i’m asking you to hold the baby while i shower not scale a damn mountain.

5. monitoring EVERYTHING.

you miss a prenatal vitamin once and he’s hovering like:

“what time did you eat? did you drink water? how long was your nap? how’s your iron?”

sweet? yes.

suffocating? also yes.

6. weird food rations.

he’ll meal prep like you’re both on deployment.

everything in tupperware. labeled. protein counted.

you suggest a fun dinner out and he hits you with,

“we already got chicken and rice in the fridge, mama.”

boy if you don’t take me to chili’s—

7. he salutes the baby.

you walk in and he’s full-on saying “at ease, soldier” when the baby burps.

it was cute once. now it’s a bit much.

[pricegotmedickmatized]

taking a break from the sticky icky verse to talk about hybrid shifters and the 141. let’s do price first

bear!price who’s quiet and looming, and big, you can see that he’s big of course he is he’s a bear hybrid, but you don’t realize that that’s him not even standing at full height, not even standing with his tired shoulders straight and broad, and when he does, when he unfolds into his true height and breadth, he’s so fucking big

bear!price who by far prefers nature to the city, solitude to crowds, and takes every opportunity he can on leave to go camping somewhere, his favorite places are far flung and often cold, and he finally decides to pull the trigger, buys a patch of land in the middle of nowhere, builds himself a self sustaining cabin (all the necessary luxuries like hot water, old man like him needs it, and it’ll serve as a good safe house if he or the team ever need it so it’s a good investment)

bear!price who prefers to hunt his own food when he can do so, rather than just go to the supermarket or a restaurant like other hybrids nowadays, he likes the hunt, likes to be responsible for his own meals, and one day at that Alaskan cabin he’s out by the river for salmon, and when he reaches in for a fish what he hauls out is an otter, which quickly shifts in his heavy hand into a woman, soaked and shivering in the chill air, her little round ears flat to her head and thick, furry tail wrapped around her long legs

bear!price who brings her into his house, sets her in front of the roaring fire with a plateful of salmon and gently pulls her story out of her: she’s not wild, not feral, she just got lost on a hike a few days ago and as an otter hybrid she’s warmer and safer in freshwater than out in the wild…even if it means she’s floated down the river while she slept and now she doesn’t know WHERE the hell she is

bear!price who feeds her and puts her in his clothes (she lost hers in the first shift poor thing) who has to carry her around the cabin because she’s so clumsy on land, and wraps her in his blankets and can’t stop looking at her. can’t stop rubbing her soft little ears between his thumb and forefinger, making her blush and shudder, can’t stop petting her tail tucked beside her on the one chair in his cabin that he insisted she take

bear!price who, when she says that she’s still cold that night, takes great pleasure in wrapping her in his arms and pressing her down into the bed, who swallows each of the adorable little squeaks she makes as he nuzzles her throat, forces her thighs wide to fit his hips, and forces his cock inside

bear!price who’s too big for a pretty little otter like her but makes her take it anyway, crooning that she can take it she’s doing so good just hold out a little longer he just needs to fuck his scent into her so she smells right and he can sleep, licks her tears off her cheeks when she cums as his cockhead rams up against her womb, little claws raking ineffectively at his skin never able to break through

bear!price who decides mid fuck that she’s the softest, sweetest thing he’s ever felt and a pussy that tight can’t walk away from him. he deserves something soft to come home to, something to take his cock and cry about how big it is and just be so fucking sweet and soft for him. decides he’ll keep the little stray after all, now aren’t you grateful sweetheart? he’s gonna be so good to you, why don’t you thank him by taking his load?

[lostinlovingrevery]

Communication

Worst Wolverine X F! Reader

You're having a bad week, Logan can help with that

A/N: Watched deadpool and wolverine and remembered this fic thats been sitting in my wips and im like...okay its time to actually finish something.

Warnings: Smut!!!!!!!!! reader is moody but logan doesn't like being deprived of snuggles, unprotected piv, facial, oral (f! recieving), V rough/slightly forced sex, light bondage, pussy smacking!!! (a lil ouchie), light choking, kinda cockwarming? begging, Logan degrades reader a lil and lectures/taunts her, slut and whore used, petnames too <3, aftercare!

“Getting real sick of your attitude.” 

Logan leans against the doorframe, arms crossed as he stares at you angrily folding laundry. You haven’t said anything to him, but you’ve been stomping around the apartment all day, huffing, scowling at him whenever you think he isn’t looking. He didn’t know what crawled up your ass but he was getting sick of it. 

“What attitude?” You reply, not looking at him. You folded a pair of his jeans, tossing it onto the pile of growing clean clothes on the dresser. He scoffed. 

“Don’t play dumb.”

“Oh-” You swung around, “Dumb? Really?” You scowled at him, turning back to the laundry basket. 

He knows exactly why you’re fed up. The last few days you’ve been stressed- anything and everything has been getting on your nerves, making you upset. He can see that you’re trying to hold it together and not take it out on him or anybody else by avoiding him and not talking to him- However you are horribly failing at that. Depriving him of your usual affections was pissing him off. 

His nostrils flared, as he stepped into the room. “Alright sweetheart, if you don’t want to talk to me-” 

His hand went to the back of your neck, forcing you to turn around as he crashed his lips against yours in a messy, possessive kiss. He bit your bottom lip, tugging it, before moving to lick into your mouth.

“Logan-” You gasped, not trying to pull away, but his sudden intensity was too much- distracting you from the bad mood you wanted to take out on him. 

He shoved you onto the bed, hands going to your shirt

Riiiiip!

You gasped as he ripped your tank top apart. His hands went down to your shorts pulling them- alongside your panties- off roughly and discarding them to the side. He manhandles you, sitting down on the mattress until he’s got you strewn across his lap. You struggle against him- but Logan was much, much stronger than you.

You had no choice but to surrender.

“I’ll just have to get rid of that attitude another way.” He finishes his threat once you are secured in place.

He grabbed your arms, folding them across your back. With one hand he held your arms, keeping you from struggling. 

“Logan-” You whined, only to be interrupted when his hand came across your ass. A loud smack! And you gasped- a moan escaping you as the sting from his hand burned across your cheek. Another smack, and you jumped. 

“Ready to talk about it?” 

You didn’t say anything, and he laughed. Another hard smack! across your ass, his hands soothed over the sting, before he gripped a handful of your ass.

Tears sprung in your eyes, your skin felt on fire, and he smacked you again.

“Lo!” You whined, squirming under him. 

“What? That hurt?” He mocked a sympathetic voice, you turned your head to look at him over your shoulder- still trapped over his lap, one arm pining you to his legs to keep you still, you were helpless to him. No amount of squirming will break you free, not when he clearly has a plan for you. He tilted his head and pouted his lip at you. 

“Yes…” You simpered.

“Boo boo boo…” he taunts with a shake of his head. His hand slid between your thighs, fingers slipping into your folds and for a moment you thought he would grant you mercy- however you were very, very wrong.

Logan doesn’t know the meaning of mercy.

You cried out in surprise as his hand came down on your cunt. 

“That better?” He asks in a low voice, his hand softly pet over your pussy, soothing the sting. When you didn't answer quick enough, he smacked you three more times in a row without a break.

A moan escaped you, arousal beginning to coat your cunt and Logans hand everytime it came in contact with your pussy. He chuckled, his voice took on a mean tone. 

“Getting off on that huh? Dirty girl. Just want me to use you up, is that it?”

“Mm…” You kicked your legs up. Arching your back, and spreading your thighs as best as you could on his lap. Your ass and pussy was on fire but Logan's words only spurred you on. 

His fingers stroked teasingly through your folds, pressing once, twice, onto your clit before running back and circling your hole. 

“Could’ve just asked instead of stomping around all over, huffing and giving me dirty looks.” 

He buried his fingers inside you. 

 An “Oh!” escaped you, as your eyes rolled back to his fingers thrusting in and out, your pussy clenching around him as a slick noise filled the room. Your hands clenched, your nails digging into the palms tight. You tipped your head back and started rocking your hips with the rhythm of his fingers pumping in and out of you. 

Just as you felt that tightening feeling grow in your tummy, Logan pulled away. Another smack came down on your cunt, and you moaned- embarrassingly loud. You couldn’t focus on it, couldn’t focus on anything but him.

“Looked like a damn slut the way you were riding my fingers.” He hums, delivering another smack, to your inner thigh this time.

“Fuck!” You gasped. The wounding feeling dissipated, making you desperate for more. His hands began to massage your thighs, gently, smoothing over the soft skin while your ass and pussy burned from the smacks. “Lo- I want- I need you-”

“You do?” He asks surprised- but you knew it was sarcasm. “You didn’t need me all day, why the sudden change up sweetheart? Hm?” 

You didn’t know how to answer that. A small squirm against his lap, you could feel him hard underneath you and hoped that soon he’ll give in and give you both what you want.

“You pissed me off, so you’re gonna have to wait.” 

He shoved you onto the bed. Standing up, you heard the clink of his belt. You started to push yourself up but he pushed you back down onto the mattress. 

With one hand pinning you down by the back of your neck, with the other hand he took his belt out. He grabbed your arms- binding them together with his belt. The leather pressed into your skin, and the feeling of restriction only made you more needy.

He flipped you back onto your back. Hot, open mouth kisses pressed over your neck and tits, where he nipped and tugged at a nipple- eliciting a groan from you. He glanced up, leaning over to press a gentle kiss to your lips.

“You’ll take what I feel like giving, got it?” He states, his tone and demeanor unchanging. You pressed your lips together and he reached up to grab your face roughly in his hand. “Hm? Sweetheart?” His voice was mocking with the pet name he used for you. It was your favorite, and he knew it. 

You nodded, and he sneered. He shoved your legs open, returning to kissing and biting your breasts, as he moved down your tummy. 

You whimpered, the feeling of his teeth sinking against your belly, his lips and tongue to soothe over the pain immediately after. 

He spread your thighs further apart, now biting into your inner thigh to make you yelp, before spitting onto your pussy. 

“Fucking soaked. You like me treating you like this darling?” He mutters, his hands coming up to spread the lips of your cunt as he investigates your folds, sending a wave of humiliation. “Your pussy just begging to be fucked.” His fingers swirled over your clit, his thumb teasing your entrance. “She’s drooling. Your attitude’s been depriving her of my damn cock- what you got to say for yourself? She’s all needy.”

He wrapped his lips over your swollen bud, his tongue and teeth working over you and sending you careening. The mixture of pain and pleasure being too much, and not enough at the same time. He sucked at your bud, swirling his tongue in nonsensical shapes before moving down to dip into your hole. A deep moan escaped him at your taste- so damn sweet. He would tell you normally- praise how good you taste. He would sit and lap at your for hours- but you weren’t getting that tonight- no, he was going to make you beg for him.

He stood up, pulling his swollen cock out. He pushed his jeans and boxers down to his thighs, while pulling his white t-shirt off and tossing it to the side. He let out a dramatic groan, creasing his brows together as he took it in his hand- stroking the girth a few times. He used his hands to spread your thighs further apart and pushing it through your folds. 

“Maybe I’ll just get myself off like this, and leave you tied up and crying for my cock the rest of the night. What do you think about that?” 

“No!” You whimpered. “No, please- I’ll be good just fuck me…”

“You’ll be good huh? Little late for that.” 

He kept pushing himself through your folds, his tip bumping against your clit over and over- but not enough to bring you to the peak you so desperately ached for. Your head lolled about, your whines for Logan to please just fuck you- While he focuses on getting himself off through your slick, his thrusts going faster and faster while you were helpless and watched him get off. 

“Logan please-!” Your head fall back. “Please, I’m sorry I was rude- Please just fuck me…” You were nearly in tears now. Frustration of the week has finally built up and was beginning to break through. Logan has given you an outlet but now won’t use it. At least to help you, he was getting by just fine by himself.

His hand came up around your neck. Squeezing it, not tight enough to restrict airflow. Just so you can feel him.

“I don’t know baby, you don’t sound very genuine in that apology.” He coos mockingly. “I think you’re faking it to get what you want- like a little slut huh?” 

“Mm-mm.” You shook your head, lips forming into a pout. “No, I am sweetie, I’m sorry- I need you okay?”

“Hm.” He tilted his head. “What do ya need?”

“Your cock-”

“Yeah? Where?” He stares at you dumbly, his cock in hand, he slapped it against your pussy. He smirked at your expression. “C’mon now, I can’t help you unless you talk to me.”

Fuck

“I need you inside me Lo- I need you to make me feel good, like you always do.” You whimpered and his smirk grew.

“I do, huh?” He tightened his grip on your throat, leaning forward to capture your lips in a messy kiss, tongue and teeth clashing together. When he pulled away, a string of spit kept you connected. “Remember that next time, will ya?” He grumbles under his breath, nipping at your lip.

He aimed himself at your hole, and pushed his tip inside- you gasped from the intrusion, a mix of pleasure and a stretch that made your eyes roll back. He pushed himself without giving you a break until he reached the hilt, leaving himself inside and allowing you just a moment to adjust before he began brutally thrusting into you. 

“Just needed to get fucked like a whore didn’t you?” He growled, He delivered another smack to your puffy cunt, a cry escaping you. His hand tightened around your throat, watching your lips part in a loud moan. He leaned over, spitting onto your tongue. You closed your mouth, tasting him, and tipped your head back, mind clouded in ecstasy. 

He suddenly stopped, pulling out of your and smacking your cunt multipe times- rough and loud. You cried out from the sudden change- a warm fullness switching to quick, sharp smacks. Only for him to slam back into you, pushing one leg up to your chest, while his other hand held your hip firmly pulling you down onto him with each thrust. 

Grunts escaped him, no longer focused on anything else. He used your body like a fucktoy. He pulled out again, flipping you onto your back so you're bent over the bed. Both hands now gripping your hips- the sting of his nails burying into your skin made you hiss- while his hard thrusts made your eyes roll back. 

Each slap of his hips against your ass brought you closer and closer to your coitus. It wasn’t just the way his cock filled you up- how he angled himself familiarly inside you to hit the spot that made your ties curl and your muscles stiffen. The way he used you turned you on, how quickly he made you powerless and forced you to take what he gave. 

It was exactly the cure-all you needed.

He brought one foot up on the bed, while his other hand reached over and grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled it back. You moaned his name. He only grunted in response- and began pounding into you faster. You couldn’t see him but you could picture his face behind you. An animalistic rage in his eyes, lips curled into a snarl, nose scrunched, as he took out his frustrations on you.

It was that image that sent you over the edge. A wave of shock washed over you as you tightened over his large cock- so tight it was almost painful the way you pulsed over him. He gasped, choking back a whine that told you he nearly came from you squeezing around him- not quite ready to do so

He shoved your face into the mattress, his brutal thrusts now turning into a deep rut as he fucked your through your orgasm. You could hear him grunting through his teeth as he slowed- waiting until he felt the last of your pulsing pussy before pulling out and flipping you back onto your back. 

“Open up.” He orders, as he climbs over you onto the mattress, his swollen cock in hand. You were too fucked out to register what he was saying. “C’mon darling.” 

His hand grabbed your jaw, forcing your mouth open as he jerked himself off to completion. Spurts of hot cum came down over your lips and tongue. You stuck your tongue out, trying to catch every bit of his spend as he finished over your face. 

You watched with hazy eyes as Logan pants, his skin flushed and sweaty, yet still managing to look so damn beautiful.

How’d you get so lucky?

He let you lay there as he sat up, catching his breath and admiring his handiwork. Finally pulling his pants back up, he gently rolled you to your side to undo the belt that kept you bound. 

“Wait here princess.” He pressed a kiss to your shoulder before sitting back up and disappearing from the room. He came back, a warm, wet rag to gently wipe your face clean. He pressed a couple of soft kisses to your cheek and then your lips. “You alright?”

“Mm… Mhm.” You nodded, sleepily closing your eyes and stretching your arms, a small ache in them from being bound for so long. “I am now.” 

“Good.” He pressed another kiss to your shoulder before moving to pick you up in his arms, adjusting you in bed so you could lie on top of him. “Now, let's talk about whatever the hell's been making you so pissy.”

[criminalamnesia]

idk just thinking about starting a thing with Jack after the two of you have been dancing around it for a while— stolen glances, lingering touches, slipping snacks into pockets and working so seamlessly together.

it’s not something you two have labeled yet, but everyone in the ED knows because god you two are so obvious and insufferably in love with one another.

but you want to take things slow, and Jack obliges because you’re more vulnerable in this position than he is (you’re his resident and he’s an attending) (and it’s actually killing him to take things slow but he does it for you).

you’re off on the day of pitt fest and so is jack but you know he just had a hellish night shift so you tell him to rest up and that you’ll see him tomorrow night when you both work again.

your friend surprises you with a plus-one ticket to pitt fest— and you hesitate but ultimately end up going, knowing that the exhaustion you’ll feel tomorrow will be worth it, even if you’re gonna need an extra energy drink or three to get through your shift.

you don’t tell jack. why would you? it’s last minute and you’re giddy and he’s off— probably sleeping, you assume— and you don’t want to bother him because this is new and you’re not his girlfriend.

then the worst happens. someone opens fire. you lose your friend in the ensuing chaos and you’re terrified, but you snap into resident mode and start trying to help. holding pressure on a wound here, checking a pulse on a body there, dodging and weaving through the masses as you try to save anyone you can.

everyone gets called into the ED. so when jack strides into the department, mind already racing in preparation of the madness to come, his eyebrows lift when he doesn’t spot you among the team briefing.

he asks dana if she’s heard from you, and the charge nurse shakes her head. “I’ll keep tryin’,” she tells him. he accepts that and moves forward.

he doesn’t have any reason to worry. you said you would see him tomorrow. he figured you were probably in bed already and your phone was on silent. no big deal. as much as he would love your expertise (and general calming, reassuring presence) in this scenario, he can push through. he did before you.

dana stays true to her word and calls you ten times in the span of two minutes, but it goes unbeknownst to you, as your phone is currently face down in a puddle of someone else’s blood. you were too busy worrying about others to even notice it had fallen out of your pocket.

when the variety of vehicles start rolling up to the ED, everyone is too busy saving lives to worry about who didn’t show up to help. no one cares about your absence.

and then ellis opens up a truck’s tailgate, and she pulls out a body— and when she gets it on the gurney, she looks at the face to quickly assess for head injuries and her heart nearly stops in her chest.

it’s you.

blood smattered on your face, a large gash running from your forehead to your cheek. your eyelids flutter, your breathing is shallow and coming in quick pants.

“shen!” ellis screams, and the attending rushes over, eyebrows furrowed before his gaze lands on you.

“shit,” he breathes, looking to ellis before back down at you.

along with an obviously broken leg and numerous cuts and already-blooming bruises, you’ve been shot. blood flows from a wound in your gut, and your hands twitch as they move towards it, trying to keep pressure on it.

“red, she’s a red—” ellis is saying, slapping a bracelet on you and commandeering your gurney. she rushes towards the doors, eyes wild as she enters the ER and looks for someone— anyone— that can help.

“robby!” she yells across the madness when she spots the attending. he’s finishing up with a patient and getting ready to move to another, but his head jerks up at the sound of his name.

“need you over here!” ellis calls, and robby’s brows furrow as he looks over his shoulder to say something to jack— fuck, jack— before he’s weaving towards her.

“what is it?” robby asks, eyes instantly going to the card tied around your wrist.

“it’s fucking y/n.”

and robby’s eyes dart up so fast he almost gets whiplash. he instantly recognizes you and he curses under his breath, anxiety clawing up from his gut and encircling his heart. beginning to squeeze as your eyes crack open and your chest heaves.

“don’t…” you gasp out, one of your hands blindly reaching for the attending. “let…him see.” each word comes painful and slow, and you don’t even notice that other faces have gathered around you as you speak.

your friends— your family— all gasp and cry and furiously begin to come to your aid but you don’t even realize it. because your eyes are locked on robby’s.

“you….need….him.”

and you don’t even have to say who you’re talking about, because everyone in the fucking PTMC knows that you and jack abbot are a thing. and robby exhales shakily, tears filling his eyes, but he has a job to do. and so he gets to work.

and he knows for a fact that he will lose someone tonight, regardless of you living or dying.

either way, he doesn’t know if jack will forgive him for this. for purposefully hiding your arrival and trying to save your life without him.

as much as it pains him at the thought, he knows that he has to do what’s best for the department. for the other hundred people that are coming through the doors tonight.

so he nods to himself. tells himself he’s doing the right thing.

and then he loses your pulse.

[thescarletfang]

don't want you like a best friend

Jack Abbot x F!reader

3.6k

Warnings: face-sitting, oral sex (f recieving), deceased wife kinda mentioned, implied age-gap (reader mid to late 30s in my head)

Summary:

You look up to find him staring at you like he has you memorized.

Fuck it. He asked. 

“He didn’t want to go down on me.”

The air gets sucked out of the room as your statement lingers between you. To his credit, Jack keeps looking right at you. Your face is on fire but you refuse to break eye contact first. You feel absolutely insane, and you think if this goes on for one more second you are leaving and walking to PTMC and jumping off of the roof. 

Another muscle twitches in Jack’s jaw and your eyes flick to his knuckles flexing where he holds the mug, the only tells that he’s registered what you’ve said.

When he speaks, it comes out gravelly. “What?” 

or

Jack can't handle that nobody's gone down on you in years.

******

“I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Jack smirks at your declaration, his eyes flicking over to where you’re melting into his couch. You glare at your attending — the man who has, over the last three years, become your friend. 

“Kinda seems like you wanna talk about it,” he quips, voice full of mirth as he takes a sip of his tea. You raise your own mug to your lips, letting the English Breakfast warm you all the way to your toes. 

It’s the end of both your days but the beginning of everyone else’s. The sun has just crested over Pittsburgh, slicing through the gray, industrial smog with shimmers of a spring morning. 

It had been a hell of a night, so when Jack asked if you wanted to come back to his place for some tea to decompress, you’d agreed immediately. It’s a ritual between you, one forged from the fire of ED trauma and the feral atmosphere of working the night shift. Sometimes it’s your place. Other times – like now – it’s his. 

You’ve been friends with Jack Abbot since the second year of your residency, and now in your final year, you feel calm with him in a way you don’t feel with anyone else. 

You consistently ignore the fact that he is devastatingly handsome and the best man you’ve ever met. It’s fine. You are fine and you can compartmentalize and you do not – repeat, do not! – have something as juvenile as a crush on your night shift attending because that would just be…ludicrous. 

Which is why earlier this week you had found yourself on the first date from hell with a radiologist. Jack had asked how it’d gone, a muscle ticking in his jaw, and you’d glared at him.

Which brings you to now, hiding behind your steaming mug of tea and burrowing into Jack’s ridiculously comfortable couch. 

You sigh dramatically. “You really want me to relive the trauma?” 

Jack barks out a laugh from the other end of the couch. “Jesus. That bad? Where d’you find these guys?”

Your face burns. “At least I put myself out there.” There’s a hint of defensiveness in your statement and Jack (who you sometimes suspect knows you better than you know yourself) clocks it immediately. 

He clears his throat, eyes catching your gaze. “I’m not makin’ fun of you. C’mon, you know that.”

You narrow your eyes at him but don’t say anything for a moment. He rubs a hand along his scruff. 

“Tell me what happened,” he says in a low voice. 

“It’s embarrassing,” you mutter, draining the last of your tea. You avoid his stare as you sit your mug (the one you always use at his house, the one with a disturbing anthropomorphic stethoscope with eyelashes and lipstick, a gag gift you’d gotten for Jack’s 48th birthday last year), on his coffee table. 

Jack shrugs. “It’s just me.” 

Yeah, it’s just you. 

He doesn’t even know he’s everything to you, and that’s the beginning and end of it all. You want to extinguish these stupid feelings because the truth of it is, if Jack reciprocated anything, he’d have made a move already.

Three, going on four years of closeness and tea and meals and movies and shared life and all of it. Of panic attacks and impatience and forgiveness and everything that makes up a foundation together. 

And never once has it ever crossed a line into what you so desperately yearn for. 

So, you go on dates. You hook up with men you know you’ll never build something with, and Jack remains firmly on the side of friendship. His hand continues to burn through your lower back when he passes behind you during a procedure, and he texts you good night every single fucking night and he’s so guarded and also the warmest man you know and the contradictions are pushing you toward a breaking point. 

But at the end of the day, you cannot blame him. He lost a wife before you ever knew him, you see the shadows he carries and the pain that lives in his eyes and you think, okay. Okay.

This is enough.

Friendship is enough. 

You look up to find him staring at you like he has you memorized.

Fuck it. He asked. 

“He didn’t want to go down on me.”

The air gets sucked out of the room as your statement lingers between you. To his credit, Jack keeps looking right at you. Your face is on fire but you refuse to break eye contact first. You feel absolutely insane, and you think if this goes on for one more second you are leaving and walking to PTMC and jumping off of the roof. 

Another muscle twitches in Jack’s jaw and your eyes flick to his knuckles flexing where he holds the mug, the only tells that he’s registered what you’ve said.

When he speaks, it comes out gravelly. “What?” 

The spell is broken and you groan, closing your eyes and leaning back so far into the couch you think it’s going to swallow you up. You have never been this humiliated in your life and it’s honestly freeing in a bizarre way. The words pour out of you. 

“You heard me! He said he doesn’t do that or whatever. Got real pissed when I told him I like, cannot physically just jump into penetration and need a partner to—to get me ready—”

A loud crash cuts you off and you realize Jack’s dropped his mug. It rolls underneath the coffee table, and you note that at least it seems he’s finished his tea. 

You look at Jack and you’re startled to see his neck is flushed and there are twin pink spots on his cheeks. 

His eyes are dark. 

You suddenly feel warm in a different way. 

Your heart begins to beat too quickly and the room suddenly feels too hot, Jack’s living room too small. You stand up, flustered. You and Jack never talk about…sex or hookups or anything like that and this is unchartered territory. You feel unmoored.

“It’s fine, I can’t remember the last time I hooked up with someone who actually wanted to do that—”

Jack makes a choked noise but you’re grabbing your purse from where you’d flung it on the couch, and you’re crossing his living room toward the door.

“Anyway, thanks for the tea, I’ll see you tonight—”

Jack says your name and you pause, hand on his doorknob. You take a breath and turn around. Jack’s no longer sitting. He’s standing in front of the chair, watching you closely. And then he crosses to you slowly, deliberately, his eyes refusing to look anywhere but into your own. 

You want to die and yet you physically cannot move. 

“Don’t go,” he says, voice gravel. He stops a space away from you. 

Your chest is rising and falling too quickly and you wish the floor would swallow you up. You let out a disbelieving laugh. 

“I am…mortified,” you tell him. “I can’t believe I told you any of that—”

“You have nothing to be embarrassed about,” he tells you, softly. “Those fuckin’ assholes are the ones who should be embarrassed.” 

Your skin tingles. “Yeah?”

Jack nods, taking a step closer. You can feel the heat radiating off of him. “Yeah. Like I said before, where do you find these fuckin’ guys?”

You laugh weakly. “It’s rough out there, Abbot.”

Jack lets out a breath through his nose and he–he bites his lip for a moment, his eyes boring into yours. Your legs are quickly turning to jelly.

What. Is. Happening.

“I uh—I’m gonna ask you something,” Jack starts, voice frayed at the edges. “And you gotta promise not to slap me.”

You laugh because you can’t help it. “What?”

The corner of Jack’s mouth quirks up by just a fraction and he swallows roughly. 

“Promise you aren’t gonna slap me.”

You look at him for a beat and when you realize he’s serious, you nod. “Okay. I won’t slap you.”

Jack steps even closer, his eyes flickering over your face, his head tilted down just slightly. The sharp line of his jaw begs for your fingers but you keep your hands at your side. 

“When was the last time you came on someone’s tongue?”

Your mouth drops open and you gape at Jack, a ringing in your ears that wasn’t previously there. Did he—did he just—?

“Jack,” you choke but he doesn’t flinch. 

“Tell me,” he urges, his fucking eye contact making your entire body light up. “Tell me the last time one of those fuckin’ assholes made you come on their tongue.”

You—you actually whimper—and Jack clenches his jaw so hard you think he’s going to break his teeth.

“I can’t remember,” you tell him quietly. “Years, I think.”

Jack nods, like you just told him the guy in T-5 needs to be intubated. “I’m gonna say something else now. You really gotta promise not to slap me, okay?”

You squint at him. “When have I ever given you the impression I’d slap anyone? Jesus.”

He grins now, boyishly, and it’s so lovely that you think, please. Please feel the same way I feel. Please. 

“When Robby threatened to put you on day shift, you definitely seemed like you wanted to slap him.”

You laugh. “Robby is a little shit.”

Jack laughs right back. “Yeah, he is.” He pauses, takes a breath. The air shifts again and it’s warm and you’re in his orbit, you feel yourself gravitating toward this man always, always, always. 

“Let me.”

Two words he says to you in a broken voice you’ve never heard from him. You frown, confused. 

“Let you what?”

Jack doesn’t hesitate when he says, “Let me make you come with my tongue. Ride my face.”

“Jesus,” you practically squeal because you have never been spoken to this way before, this way that is so sexy and blunt and you never in a million years thought Jack would say this to you, no matter how many times you’ve dreamt of it. You stare at your friend, gobsmacked. 

“Let me make you feel good,” Jack says in a low voice. You study him. He looks completely sincere. “Please.”

Is he-–is Jack Abbot begging you to let him make you come?

You have died. Surely, you have ceased to exist in this realm and you are looking down on another version of you in another world because Jack—he’s never given you any indication he’s ever even looked at you in a way that wasn’t platonic. 

“You’re insane,” you tell him because he is. This man is out of his mind.

Jack throws you a challenging look, quirking his eyebrow. “Am I? ‘Cuz from where I’m standing, any guy who refuses to go down on you is fuckin’ insane.”

You have quite possibly never been more turned on in your life, but you need to Think Clearly because this could — it could —

“If you do this, this could change everything,” you tell Jack honestly, and you know he sees the trepidation in your eyes. You wonder if he can read your fears, can read how badly you want him and have always wanted him. 

Jack shrugs. “So let it.”

Your eyes prick and you really need to get it together because you cannot cry at a time like this!

“But you don’t like me like that,” you say and you might as well have shoved Jack because he stumbles back as if your words have physical force. 

“What?” This man! This man has the audacity to look affronted and you scoff at your disbelief at his reaction. 

“What do you mean ‘what?’” You wave a hand between you. “You’ve never once made a move, Abbot. Excuse me if I am shook that you want to—to tongue fuck me all of a sudden.” You practically hiss “tongue fuck” and cannot believe the words have flown out of your mouth. 

Jack groans, runs a hand down his face. “Christ. The mouth on you—” he shakes his head, puts both hands on his hips and it’s so stupidly adorable. “You’re a doctor, I know you’re smart, you gotta know why I haven't made a move.”

You glare at this sassy man in front of you because how dare he. “When a guy doesn’t make a move, it’s usually because they’re not into you! Which you clearly are not! Into me, I mean.”

Jack looks at you like you’re the biggest idiot he’s ever seen and like he’s about five seconds away from grabbing your face and bringing it to him. 

Instead he stares for a moment and swallows. Your eyes follow his Adam’s apple, the way it bobs nervously. 

“You’re—you’re—” Jack breaks off and you’re so thrown by hearing him stutter. He’s always so sure. “Fuck, look. I’m old and—and you’re so good, you’re fuckin’ everything, what the hell do you want with a bum like me?”

His voice is so broken and you read between all the lines, everything he’s not saying.

I’m old.

I lost this once. 

I’m no good.

I don’t deserve you.

“Jack,” you whisper, and your hands come to cradle his jaw. He huffs out a breath of air, closes his eyes and leans against your hands. The motion makes you brave. 

“I want everything with a bum like you,” you tell him, your bleeding heart exposed and lying on the floor between you. Jack’s eyes fly open, dart between yours. 

“Yeah?” he croaks. He lifts his hands to your wrists, holding your own hands in place as they cradle his scruffy jaw. 

“Yes, you idiot,” you say, the words floating on a little laugh. “I’ve been waiting for you for…well, for a long time.”

Jack’s eyes glisten. He swallows. “I didn’t—I couldn’t ever let myself think that you’d ever want me as anything more than your friend.” He takes a breath. “I was willing to be just that forever if it was the only way you’d ever have me.”

You grin at him. “But you offer to let me sit on your face?”

Jack’s eyes flash. “Yeah, I’m kinda doing all this backwards, huh?” Then, “I’m not good at this. I haven’t done it in awhile. Not since—”

He breaks off roughly and you skate your hands down from his jaw to rest against his chest. You look up at him and you hope your eyes ground him. 

“I’m not good at this either,” you say. “We can…figure it out together. If you want. If you want me.”

Jack twirls a lock of your hair in his hands for a moment before he tucks it behind your ear. “You have no idea how badly or how long I’ve wanted you. Jesus. I want you so bad.”

You smile. “Oh good. Cuz I want you too.”

You catch sight of the relief in Jack’s eyes for a moment before he bends down and presses his lips against yours. You squeak into the kiss, so shocked that it’s finally happening and you can feel Jack smirk against your mouth. His tongue traces your bottom lip and you open for him and oh my god.

Jack’s tongue.

It’s licking into you and all you can taste is tea and Jack and holy fuck, he is such a good kisser. You slide your arms around his neck, pulling him closer and his hands find a home on your waist and your bodies bend together. 

He pushes into you, and a hand comes up to cradle the back of your head just as your back hits the door. Jack breaks away from your lips, his own trailing down your throat and you gasp for air. You press into him and feel his hardness against your belly and you throb between your legs. 

“Fuck, I need to taste you,” Jack pants, resting his head on your shoulder. You run a hand through his hair, gripping those salt-and-pepper curls that drive you insane.

“So taste me,” you tell him because you are an insane person. Jack makes you feel insane.

He pulls back, looking down at you and before you can say anything, he grabs you under your thighs and picks you up with strength you are—quite frankly—shocked by. You are not a tiny human and Jack’s nearing fifty and you’re wrapping your legs around Jack’s waist and oh my god, you’d die to see the way his arms are probably straining and flexing. 

“Hold on,” he growls and begins walking you toward what you assume is his bedroom but you’re a little distracted because he’s sucking on your neck. You grind into him and he moans and you’re moaning and it’s so much.

“I can’t believe you’re carrying me right now,” you gasp as Jack shoulders his way through the bedroom door. 

“I’m in great shape,” he defends and you’re about to say some smart-ass comment but it dies in your throat when he tosses you — tosses you!!!! — onto his bed. You bounce for a second before you lie on your back. 

Jack kneels on the edge of the bed and you prop yourself up on your elbows, looking at him and trying to catch your breath. 

“Take your clothes off,” Jack says, voice low and you can actually feel yourself get wet. He’s so commanding.

You sit up, shrugging out of your t-shirt. You drop it over the edge of your bed and raise an eyebrow at Jack, who’s still just kneeling and watching you. His eyes skate over your simple cotton bra like it’s the sexiest thing he’s ever seen. 

“You too,” you tell him and it spurs him into action. With one hand he reaches behind his head, tugging his t-shirt off and oh my god. His chest and his broad shoulders and his tousled hair. 

He leans down, his hands meeting the mattress and he crawls over to you, caging you in as you lie back down. His lips find the spot between your shoulder and neck and then his teeth skate over your bra strap and is—-is he—yes, he is pulling your bra strap down by his teeth.

“Jack,” you whine and he grinds his clothed cock over your core, fucking you into the mattress without actually fucking you and your head buzzes. 

He must sense your desperation in the way you say his name because he leans back and clothes are shed quickly. Your bra, his shoes and pants, your shoes and pants and then finally he’s looking down at you in only his briefs and you’re completely naked, your tits rising and falling and he’s panting, holding himself up, muscles corded in his arms and neck. 

“I’m ready for you to ride my fuckin’ face,” he says, voice wrecked with need and you whimper again. He gently scooches you over and lies down on his back and you sit up, throwing a leg over him, your bare cunt meeting the skin of his chest. 

His hands grab onto the meat of the back of your thighs, drift to grab handfuls of your plush ass and he moans, “You’re so fuckin’ sexy.”

You hover above his mouth, your hands find the top of his bed-frame and you look down. The sight almost destroys you.

Jack is looking up at you, curls disheveled, mouth glistening, a red flush down his neck, and your thighs are on either side of his head. He breathes you in and you almost come from that alone.

“Come on, baby,” he growls. “Ride me.”

You don’t need to be told twice. 

You sit down — on his face — and you can feel his groan reverberate through your core. From this angle, his tongue hits so deep and you haven’t felt this in so fucking long.

“Shit, shit, shit,” you’re babbling, your hips already grinding against his face as he laps at your center. “Fuck it’s so good, Jack it’s so good.” 

Jack’s eyes are open as he eats you because the man maintains eye contact like a motherfucker. His hands dimple your ass cheeks and he rocks you over his face while his tongue fucks you deep. The sounds that fill the room are obscene, your pussy wet and dripping. You slap your own thigh as you feel yourself getting so, so close—

“Yes!” you scream, gutturally, primal, you didn’t realize you were this loud during sex but it’s never been this good. “Right fucking there, fuck me right fucking there, Jack.”

Jack’s tongue is relentless and it finds your clit and he sucks hard and you’re done for.

“Oh fuck, I’m coming, Jack—-Jack, fuck, fuck!” Your vocal chords are shredded as your hands slam against his bedroom wall, your hips grinding against his tongue as your climax hits you, your nerve-endings on fire. 

You can’t catch your breath. You’re trying to and look down as Jack licks up all your juices, kisses the inside of your thighs, looks up at you. 

He looks so debauched, lips glistening, eyes pussy-drunk on you. 

“You taste unbelievable,” he tells you, his voice husky. “I could die down here.” 

You laugh, a wild free thing dislodging itself from your throat. You’re still straddling his chest, hands still braced on the wall. You move to get off, but Jack’s hands lock into your waist, keeping you in place.

“I’m not done,” he tells you, and — is he pouting?

“Jesus,” you say because you are spent and somehow already you feel yourself throb again. “You’re not?”

“Fuck no,” he tells you, and kisses your thigh. “Ride me again.”

You lick your lips and Jack’s eyes trace the movement. “I’ll ride your tongue again but then I need you to fuck me with your cock. Deal?”

Jack chokes on a laugh, like he can’t believe you’re real. Like he can’t believe you're his. 

He leans up, and right before his tongue licks into you again, he grins. It lights up his entire face. 

 “Deal.”

[venusalexian]

solet II

let me do this for you

alexia putellas x teen!reader & barça femení x teen!reader

in which you finally let someone in and Alexia allows herself to care

Ale had driven you to the grounds this morning, as she tends to do now if she has a free day when you have a game. You were so excited for this game. Your grandpa had recuperated well from his surgery, even if he now needed some extra care, and Ale’s presence in your life had become a constant. You couldn’t believe this was your life now.

You went into the game eager to win, to score, to lead. By halftime, you had scored once and provided an assist. You were on fire, but everything changed when you stepped into the tunnel, and Ale was waiting for you, a worried frown on her face.

“Solet, I need you to stay calm while I tell you this, okay?.” She said. “Your neighbor called, they've had to take your grandma into the hospital because she fainted. They firmly believe she’s going to be okay. I will drive you to the hospital right now if that’s what you want.” You can’t believe she’s even doubting it. There is no way you’re making it back out into the pitch now.

“Please Ale, let’s go.” You rush to the locker room to get your things and run all the way to Ale’s car, impatient.

“It’s all gonna be okay, I promise.” Alexia says as she lays her free hand on your arm, the other on the steering wheel.

You really want to believe her, but you don’t really think she has the ability to fulfill this one. You don’t respond. You just lay your head against the window and let its coldness ground you to reality.

As soon as you get to the waiting room you make a beeline for your grandfather, who sits in a corner. He’s recuperated from his surgery, but he still can’t stand for long periods of time and needs help remembering to take his meds.  You break down as soon as you’re in his arms.

”Oh, mi ni��a, everything’s gonna be okay. She was awake when they got her into the ambulance. It was just a big scare, but she’s going to be okay.”

You nod against his chest but don’t detach from his hold. You won’t believe it until you see her with your own eyes and doctors confirm it, but you appreciate the comfort of his words. You turn a bit to look to your left. Ale is talking with your neighbor. She has her capitana face on. That relaxes you further.

You hate how unhelpful you’re being. You should be more composed, asking questions, making sure your grandpa is also okay, planning for any contingencies that might come from this incident. But you can only cling, and cry, like a child. So you’re happy to see that Ale has taken control of the situation, because at least somebody has. You’ve been trusting her with more of yourself and your life over the past months, and you’re so, so glad about it now. She looks over at you, and you know she understands what it means to you. The guilt of your impotence stays, but the pressure eases, and you let yourself just fall.

Alexia is looking at you and seeing a kid. A strong, resilient kid. But a kid. So she takes charge, and she accepts that caring for you is coming more naturally to her every day. And as she waits with you for news about your grandma, she gradually also accepts the role she wants to play in your life. More than she’d let herself in the past, more than she’s ever said out loud.

“So… Why are the kids talking about you adopting another kid?” Marta approached Alexia with a massive smirk at the end of training.

“Yeah Ale, I thought you’d at least talk to me before you got a kid outside of this team.” Oh, Irene was having too much fun with this conversation.

“First of all, there is no another, I don’t have any kids, period.” A chorus of ‘hey’ and ‘rude’ was heard from the other side of the room, most notably (and loudest) by Vicky and Jana. Alexia just rolled her eyes. Apparently, the whole team was a part of the conversation now. “And secondly, I have not adopted a kid. I’m just… mentoring.”

“Mentoring? Is that what they call it now? Mentoring is driving a kid to and from practice?” Jana continued teasing her.

Alexia had gotten into the habit of driving you when she could especially to and from late night practices, thinking thaat it was much too late for you to be out taking public transportation.

“Or staying to watch those practices?” followed Sydney, who’s joking character was coming more and more out as she became more comfortable with the first team.

Now, Alexia knew how to perfectly justify this one.

“I am captain of this team, I have a duty to check in with the B team and source for talent.” she answered, feeling smug.

“Oh, and is having Sunday lunch with her and her family a form of recruitment?” added Vicky, who had become closer with the teen and had taken to chatting with her on occasion.

Alexia actually didn't know how to respond to this one. She had taken your grandmother’s invitation a couple of time when you had Sunday morning games and she had a free weekend. She loved getting to know you more by spending time with you and your grandparents. And although she thought you pressured yourself too much, she saw herself reflected in your protectiveness, diligence and sense of responsibility toward your family and team.

“Better yet. Why did your girlfriend text me asking if I could give her more information about the kid because she wants to make a good impression when you bring her over for Sunday dinner at your mom’s this weekend?” added Ingrid.

Alexia muttered “traitor” as the locking room erupted in chaos. Everyone knows how much it means for their protective and family-oriented captain to introduce people to her family.

“Okay, enough. I care about her, yes. And she doesn’t have too many people on her corner, so I decided to become one.”

Everyone softened at that, understanding the importance and vulnerability of the statement.

“Now, no more social chit-chat about my life or you’re all running three times as much before practice.”

The soft expressions were replaced with groans, complaints and the occasional soft object thrown at her. Oh how she loves her fútbol family.

Your neighbor has had to leave; she has her own family to care for. So it’s just you, your grandpa, and Ale. Each sitting on a seat to your side. The doctor comes out after a half hour of waiting. The good news is that she’s okay, she’s awake, and there is nothing life-threatening. It feels like a toll has been lifted off your shoulders. But then he continues: it was a big fall, a symptom of an underlying heart condition. It means more medication and the possibility for this to happen again or other bad things. You feel dizzy again. You only hear bits and pieces of the rest: needs more monitorization, will need more constant care for a couple of weeks, she’s gonna stay overnight, you’ll be able to see her soon. You cling to the last part to stay in touch with reality.

Ale sees you drowning, so she asks, “Do you trust me to help, to take over now and help you through this? Let me do this for you?”

You nod. You need her to. You don’t even have any space in your worrying to overthink what this means or why she’s willing to do all this for you. You need her now, and the rest will come when everything’s more calm.

“I’m gonna make a few calls, okay? Can I tell a couple of people what is going on? The girls, mami and Olga are all worried. I won’t say much, just a quick update, okay?”

You nod again. You haven’t uttered a word since you got into Ale’s car. You can’t. So when she nods back, you hide your face in your grandpa’s chest again. You try to distract yourself with happier memories until you can see your grandma again. Thinking of her still hurts, so you focus on your team, your friends, and the people in Ale’s life you’ve met in the past weeks.

You felt dizzy from anticipation. You kept bouncing your leg in the passenger seat, and checking your outfit on the rear-view mirror. Ale noticed your fidgeting and laid her free hand on your shoulder.

“Are you nervous?” her eyes didn’t stray from the road but you noticed her half-grimace. Ale is not the best at not asking obvious questions, but you know it’s because she doesn’t know how to start the conversation otherwise.

“Yeah, I just…” you also grimaced, feeling like a little kid. “I want them to like me.” you mumble, embarrassed.

“Oh, solet. They will. Mami is a natural caretaker, she’ll take you under her wing immediately. And Alba and Olga will just love having one more person to team up with against me.” Ale rolled her eyes, fondly.

She exudes a different type of softness when she talks about the women in her life, even when she fakes being annoyed at their antics. Her response calmed you, though.

Ale was absolutely right, of course.

As soon as you entered Ale’s home, her mom was giving you a massive hug and when she pulled away, she told you how beautiful you are and that she was really excited to meet you. You were blushing again. She hugged her daughter next, and then motioned for you both to go to the living room while she finished cooking. You offered to help, and you were rewarded with a wide smile and a pinch to your cheek. Ale got a quip that “she ought to keep her instead of her daughters if she keeps this helpfulness up”.

You’re still flushed when you reached the living room with Ale to find her sister and girlfriend sitting at the table in conversation. They stood up when you entered the room. Her sister moved to you, hugged you and introduced herself. You opened your mouth to do the same but she interrupted before you could utter a word.

“Oh, I know who you are. Ale won’t shut up about you.” You both turned to her, but she was too busy kissing her girlfriend to notice. Alba covered your eyes and yelled. “Women, not in front of the kid!”

You smiled as Alba moved away her hand and smiled at you, all nerves forgotten by now, replaced by warmth. Ale and Olga were walking towards you both, Ale’s hand on the small of her back. Olga hugged you, and her smile was just as warm and soft as Ale’s. 

“Yeah, Ale hasn’t shut up about you. We’re all really excited to meet her mini-me.” And there you are, blushing again. Had Ale really referred to you like that? Before you could ask, Ale’s mom called the four of you to finishing setting up as dinner was ready.

Conversation during dinner flowed. Ale was right, you had nothing to worry about and the night went perfectly. They all asked about you, eager to get to know you better. Alba and Olga did use your presence to rile Ale up, sharing embarrassing stories as she blushed and covered her face.

“I’ll lose my tough captain facade, stop.”

“You never had it to begin with, Ale.”

By the time dinner ends, you couldn’t even believe you had been so nervous to meet them.

When the night ended, and Ale and Olga offered to drive you home. As you and Olga waited for Ale to finalize some arrangement with her mom, she put her arm around you, the night had unexpectedly cooled and neither of you had come prepared for it. You basked in the comfort of her warmth and touch.

“I’m so glad Ale brough you over.” You looked up to the older woman, her smile exactly like Ale’s. “She is right, you know? You’re such a solet. I’m so glad you have each other.” Before you could respond, Ale was ushering you both inside the car and the fullness from dinner lulled you to sleep. They smile at your sleeping form, and their unspoken understanding of their care for you.

By the time Alexia finishes texting and calling, she has a plan. Alexia does well with plans, likes to prepare for things. But she has to talk to your grandparents first, and she doesn’t know how that conversation is going to go. Alexia is also good on her feet, though, and works with what’s given. Knows how to fight for what she thinks is right.

It doesn't take long for a nurse to come by and lead the three of you to your grandma’s room. You cry again when you see she’s okay. You can’t cling to her like you did with your grandpa, so you’re content to sit by her side and hold her hand while she asks questions about the game, and you do your best to respond to her. Your words are stilted, but Ale and your grandpa smile because it’s the most you’ve spoken in hours.

After some more assurances, your grandma convinces you to go down to the cafeteria with your grandpa to have dinner. You’re hesitant to comply, but both her and Ale reassure you and don’t accept no for an answer. You give them one last glance to reassure yourself everything is okay before you leave the room.

Alexia is nervous to be left alone with your grandma. She needs to start the conversation she knows is coming and despite the encouragement from her family, she isn’t sure to be ready for it. She doesn’t have to be, though, because your grandma beats her to it.

“She needs you.” There’s a heavy silence that follows, Alexia doesn’t know how to respond.

“She needs you because she’s a kid but doesn’t accept it. We both know that this incident means that both I and my husband need more help than she should be burdened by. She’s stretched thin enough, she already does too much. We want her to have fun, be a kid, a student, a footballer. Not a nurse, or a caretaker. She can’t do that if she’s constantly worried about us. And I know you know all this.”

Alexia stands seriously and silently and measures her words before speaking. She knows what’s next, but this is not her family, she doesn’t want to overstep. But if directly asked for her input, she’ll do it. She’ll take care of everything. For you. 

“I do, yeah.”

“We need that kind of help but it can’t come from her. So will you help? I’ve seen you grow closer to her, she admires you so much, relishes your attention and care. If we ask you for it, if she agrees, are you ready for this?”

Alexia doesn’t hesitate.

“Yes.”

She can see the tension leave your grandma.

“Good. Now we can talk specifics. What’s your plan? Tell me and then we can tell her together.”

In the morning after you, Ale and your grandpa went home to sleep –Ale taking the couch even if you insisted on her taking the bed–, it’s Ale also who drives back to the hospital and brings your grandma home when she’s released. All four of you sit in the living room and when you try to fuss over your grandma, all three of them reassure you she’s okay.

“Mi vida, we have something to discuss.” Your grandma starts, and you squirm, uncomfortable at being out of loop.

“Alexia and us have a proposal for you, mi niña. We’ll do only what you want us to, but we think this is the best for all of us, and especially you.” You don’t respond to your grandpa, just nod, the anticipation driving you crazy. Your grandma takes over the conversation again.

“We love you so much, mi vida. We love how kind you are, how responsible, and how much you care for us. But your grandpa and I need more help, and we want you to not be burdened by it.” You’re about to protest –they’re not a burden, would never be, you love them and you’ll always care for them–but Ale stops you.

“Ssh, solet, listen to what we have to say first, okay?” You nod again instead of responding.

“So remember when I made a few calls yesterday at the hospital? I set up a couple of things. First, there is a home-care medical team that will be taking care of your grandparents from now on. They’re the best, but we still get to pick who’s going to be coming to stay with them for continued care. You’ll be part of that decision too.”

You exhale, thankful that Ale took over arranging this service. Deep down, you know that even if you would have tried your hardest, your grandparents need specialized care you wouldn’t be able to provide.

“And we also thought something else, but we’ll only do this if you want to and completely at your pace.” You become uneasy again at their own nervous expressions.

“Mi vida, we’ve thought that you spend so much time moving from here to the city, and it’s not benefitting you in your studies, or your football career, so Alexia kindly offered an arrangement that we think will work for all of us.”

“Solet, I’d like it if you moved in with me.” There is nothing but shock in your expression now. You have no idea how to respond, this being the last thing you expected from this conversation.

“We were thinking you could stay with me over the week, so you can go to a school that is more understanding of your football career, like many of your teammates, and be closer to the training grounds. You’ll come back to stay over weekends with your grandparents, so you’ll still see them a lot. And you can obviously tell me anytime you wanna be with them, and we’ll make it work so you never feel detached.”

You stop her nervous rambling with an obvious question, still in shock.

“You really want me to move in with you? Are you sure?”

Her smile is so, so soft again. Her eyes so kind, but also somewhat exasperated, she can’t believe you don’t understand how much she cares for you yet.

“Yes, solet.And before you ask. Yes, I’ve talked to Olga, she also thinks this is good. She’s in and out of the house these days because of work in Madrid so she thinks this is actually good for us both. Apparently, I don’t struck her as someone who lives well alone.” She rolls her eyes when she shares that part, but she’s still smiling.

“And, avis, you think this is best for all of us? Because I’ll still miss you a lot, but you’re right that I’ve been struggling these days.”–you finally admit–“And I guess if there’s a professional caring for you here and I can call you anytime and come often, then, I guess, it seems like a good solution to me too.”

All three of them smile widely at you, glad that you see the same things they do.

“Yes, mi niña, we do. And this is always your home, you can be here as much as you want to.”

“Okay” You say, and it feels definitive, the start of something.

N/A:

second part re-uploaded! one more soon and then a new story of the solet universe next and hopefully a few more to come over the next few weeks <3

xoxo, a.c. 💫

[randominchident]

the dial tone is all we have

⋆ 𐙚 ̊. a lando norris x reader imagine ⋆ 𐙚 ̊.

a series of voicemails from lando to best-friend!reader as their relationship slowly turns into something more…

📩 00:24

Yo. Don’t forget we’ve got movie night tomorrow—and I’m picking the film this time. No more of your sad indie stuff where everyone dies in the end, alright? I want explosions. Fire. Shit CGI. Real cinema. I can pick you up if you need... ah... yeah. Cool. You're on snack duty.

📩00:42

You left your hoodie in my car. Again. I’m starting to think you’re doing it on purpose. It smells like you. Like… I dunno. Vanilla and warmth or something like that. Kinda... weirdly comforting? Anyway. I’m not giving it back yet. It’s mine now. I'm holding it hostage. You have plenty of mine anyway.

📩 00:07

I swear, you need to stop sending me memes when you know I'm in the middle of a serious meeting, one day I will laugh out loud and it’ll be your fault. Fully your fault. If Zak fires me it’s on you.

📩 0:29

You looked really happy today. Like, properly happy. I don’t know—something about it stuck in my head. I feel like you haven't been yourself lately and it was just... nice to see. You were laughing and your eyes crinkled and... yeah. You looked good. Not that you don’t always, obviously, just—shut up. I’m being weird. Ignore me. Sorry. Text me when you get home so I know you're ok. Please?

📩 00:21

Would it be crazy for me to book a flight for you right now? To here? It’s so here boring without you. I swear the whole garage is on edge ‘cause they know I’m a hazard without you around. Total disaster. I crashed out FP1 from a stupid mistake and I just… I need my good luck charm around… or… I’m fucked. I mean it. Tell me if you can come and I’ll book it right now. I need you… but if you can’t just don’t worry about it. Seriously. Just talking to you is enough to make me feel better.

📩 00:24

Hey. Um... random, probably unnecessary question but—who was that guy you were with tonight? He seemed... nice. Like, really nice. Are you guys a thing? I don’t... I mean...like... you haven't ever mentioned him before? Feels weird. I just… wasn’t expecting it honestly. Not in a bad way, just—surprising. Or maybe I'm being weird. It’s probably nothing. Just tired. Jet lag, maybe. Stupid brain. Ignore me. Or don’t. I don’t even know what I’m saying right now. Okay. Goodnight.

📩 01:58

Hey. Um… it’s late. I can’t sleep. Don’t really know why. My head’s been kind of loud tonight. You always say I can call you when I'm feeling like this, and, yeah. Um. So. I keep thinking about that night in Monaco. When we were sitting by the water after dinner—remember? The harbor was quiet for once, and we were just… there. Just you and me. You looked peaceful. And then you said you were scared of falling in love again because it always ends messy. That it ruins the good things. I didn’t really know what to say then, so I probably said something dumb, like I always do when I don’t want to feel too much. But I’ve been thinking about it ever since. And I think… I get it now. I’ve been trying not to fall for you. For a while, actually. Because you mean more to me than anyone else ever has. You’re in all the parts of my life that feel real. You make everything lighter. And yeah, that’s terrifying. I'm scared. Because if I ever say the wrong thing, or make things weird, and you pull away... I don’t know how I’d handle that. But I’m kind of done pretending I don’t feel it. I think I stopped falling a long time ago. I think I already hit the ground. Hard. So. Yeah. I like you. A lot. In the way you’re not supposed to like your best friend. In the way where my chest does something stupid when you laugh, and I want to reach for your hand just because it’s there. I want to hold you, just to hold you. But if you don’t feel the same—if this message makes things messy—please just… ignore it. I swear I’ll never bring it up again. I’d rather have you as my friend than lose you altogether. I mean that. You don’t owe me anything, okay? I just… couldn’t hold it in anymore... Goodnight. I—

📩 00:45

Fuck. I'm so sorry about that last voicemail. You're probably still asleep but I should have told you in person and I can't take it back now. You deserve better than this. I don’t want to ruin anything. Us, I mean. You’re… the most important person in my life. You’ve seen all of me—messy, loud, fucking annoying me—and you still show up. But if I keep pretending I don’t feel more, I think I might lose my mind. I like you. Like, really like you. I think I might love you. And if you don’t feel the same, that’s okay. I just… couldn’t keep it in anymore.

📩 00:21 (unsent)

God, I hope you don’t hate me. I don’t even know what I want you to say back. I just want you to… I don’t know. Say my name like you mean it? Tell me you want me? Stay over and steal my hoodies and kiss me and tease me about being dramatic and—okay, this is getting embarrassing. I should deleted this. I’m not sending it. Definitely not. Fuck me.

📩 01:04

You kissed me. You actually kissed me. I’m still smiling like an idiot. I keep saying it out loud like it’s gonna make it more real, but honestly, it still feels like I’m half-asleep or hallucinating from too much travel and not enough food. Because that happened, right? That wasn’t just me completely losing the plot? God, I’m still smiling like an idiot. Like a full-on, stupid grin. My cheeks actually hurt. You make me feel crazy. And now I can’t stop thinking about it. About you. I don’t really know what I’m trying to say. I just… I’m really glad you did. Kiss me, I mean. I know you just left and it's stupid of me to be calling you already but I was too coward to say it to your face and I need you to know... It wasn’t just a moment for me. It didn’t feel casual. Like maybe this thing between us isn’t just something in my head anymore. And I guess what I’m trying to say is... I really want this to be something. With you. Not just a kiss we don’t talk about, not something we laugh off later because... Fuck. I can’t stop thinking about the way you felt. Tasted. I never want to stop thinking about it. Ever. You’re so perfect. I want us. Properly. If you want that too. But if you don’t—if I read it wrong—just tell me, okay? I’ll handle it. I just couldn’t keep this in any longer without saying it. I want to be with you in any way you'll let me.

📩 00:3 (saved by receiver)

I still can't believe you're mine. I love you.

[thinemoonshine]

⋆𐙚₊ 𝓹𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜 (𝓻𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜)˚⊹♡

—⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ when platonic becomes romantic

bestfriend!enhypen hyung line x fem reader content(s): fluff, enhypen being down bad, hints of yearning, reader's oblivious, jay malfunctions, bit suggestive in jake's, sunghoon's already thinking wedding vows type: imagine

⋆˙𐙚 L.HEESEUNG 𐙚˙⋆

it’s weird. they’ve always been touchy with one another. sure, it may not be to the point of clingy but touchy enough that hand-holding and cuddling are normal in their friendship.

so why is it that heeseung feels so shy and flustered with (y/n)’s simple affection now?

her fingers pinch his chin softly as she gently tends his small cut with a cotton swab. their faces close but far enough so heeseung can comfortably admire her features while she stands between his spread knees.

“it’s not deep enough so it shouldn’t leave too much of a scar,” she says calmly—too casually for heeseung who’s literally having trouble making a single coherent thought without thinking about their proximity.

he swallows and it only makes his throat feel drier. “you sure?”

(y/n) lifts her gaze to see his round, bambi eyes searching hers for reassurance and she chuckles. “don’t worry, hee. you’ll still be handsome.”

still? he echoes internally. she thinks i’m handsome.

the thought itself is dumb considering how she’s never held back her admiration for his looks but for some reason, it was clearer to him this time, significant.

her hand shifts to cup his cheek and he fights himself from practically melting into her touch with his fists clenching by his side.

but his will is weaker than he thought.

(y/n)’s brows raise when he leans into her palm with eyes shutting while his own arms wrap around her waist to pull her in. “hee?”

the way that everyday nickname fell from her lips has his heart lurching and ears ringing, desperate for her to say it again.

“i like it when you say my name,” he murmurs into her shoulder and she’s silenced, flustered and confused, even more so when she can literally feel him jolting ever so slightly from his rapid, passionate heartbeat.

(y/n) slowly reciprocates the touch—her arms moving to encircle his slim waist and he sighs at the warmth that envelopes.

“is there something going on?” she asks, unsure of what transpired for her bestfriend to act so intimate all of a sudden but all heeseung does is shake his head—sneakily burying his nose into the crook of it and breathing her in.

“i just want you here,” he confesses, warm breath heating her skin as he subtly stamps little pecks before having to bite his own tongue to hold back from pressing a long, lasting kiss.

oh, if only he could.

heeseung smiles as he lifts a hand to cradle the back of her head, combing through her hair as his lips pull to a grin.

well, no one said he couldn’t.

⋆˙𐙚 P.JONGSEONG 𐙚˙⋆

it should be casual. a norm. a routine, even, to have (y/n) clinging onto his back as he cooks. it’s what she always does whenever he makes their meals—her ‘contribution’ she says, since jay won’t let her do anything.

and he doesn’t mind. he welcomes it, in fact. but something about today, makes it a lot harder for him to focus on his cooking with her wrapped around him.

“i thought you wanted them diced,” (y/n) reminds when jay was about to shove in the messily sliced carrots into a pot of hazardously seasoned soup(he’s pretty sure he poured in sugar instead of salt).

jay blinks rapidly, frantic, as he laid down the cutting board again and starts dicing… if cutting them in criss-crossed shapes into atoms is another method of it. “y-yeah. i did.”

but it doesn’t stop there.

“jay, that’s not salt.”

“black pepper, not white.”

“that fire’s too high!”

jay’s a second away from giving himself a concussion with the frying pan and even then, he grabbed the ladle instead.

"is something wrong?" his bestfriend asks when she turns him around and the way her fingers ghost over his waist makes him shudder.

he shakes his head with his signature smirk-ish smile before clearing his throat. “nothing. just thinking about some stuff.”

his hand lands on her crown and rests there for a moment before he pats gently. then he turns back around to cook, scoffing in amusement at the skeptical hum from the girl clinging onto his back.

“i’ll make you talk one way or another,” she threatens and jay’s about to toss a witty remark but he’s cut by a gasp when her palms drag up to his chest—heart going overdrive and nearly bursting through until her grip curls around his neck. “tell me!”

he’s shaken back and forth by the throat and it works in distracting him from blasting off through the roof like a rocket. exaggerated laughter escapes him as he tries to pretend everything’s fine before he gently holds her wrists and pulls them away—spinning to face her with a bright grin on his ruddy face.

“if you keep this up, i might not be able to get this done,” he chides but with a playful undertone as he clicks his tongue with a sharp inhale. his eyes sharpen to squint ‘menacingly’ and the girl mirrors.

“fine. i’ll relent,” she shrugs and pulls her arms back but just when jay thinks she’ll leave, she reaches to gently stroke his throat and that has his eyes widening and breaths hitching. “sorry, was i too rough?”

his gears are frozen and ears muffled from the pounding, passionate beats of his heart. “i—uh, no! not at all.”

and when her eyes lift to meet his, he nearly buckles at the knees—having to reach behind and grip the edge of the counter until his knuckles turn white to keep himself up.

there’s a pregnant pause between them and with every second, jay’s mind is unraveling little by little.

“i knew it,” she scoffs and for a moment, he thinks it’s over for him. (y/n)’s gonna see through him and she’s gonna leave him and—

“i’ll use a rope next time. thanks for the advice!” she chirps and spins before skipping out the kitchen, leaving him dumbfounded and speechless.

the moment she’s out, he crashes against the counter behind him—skin flushed to his ears and neck and eyes wide as saucers as his hand cups the lower half of his face in disbelief.

oh, he’s done for.

⋆˙𐙚 S.JAEYUN 𐙚˙⋆

jake thinks there’s no such thing as a friendship touchier, sweeter and cheesier than his with (y/n). it’s their love language: physical touch. even if it’s as small as poking or as big as a whole cuddle session, they’re all a portrayal of their perfectly platonic affections.

they’ve even kissed each other’s cheeks for goodbyes and caused confusion all around whether they were dating or not. of course, they’d always deny it—saying that that’s one of the perks from being friends for so long. nothing affects them anymore since they’ve seen nearly everything of each other.

but now, from the way jake’s breaking a sweat and losing his breaths as he cuddles with (y/n) for another one of their movie marathon nights, he’s not sure he can live up to that belief.

he’s trying his hardest to calm his nerves, scared that she’s going to be able to feel his racing heart or notice his shaky breaths.

it’s like he’s suddenly conscious of everything.

the way her hands feel against him, the softness of her figure compared to his solid body, her sweet warmth that seeps into his pores as he holds her close and the way she whines and grunts unconsciously whenever he shifts like she hates to be apart.

everything, every single thing about her is driving him crazy and the fact that she’s literally using him as a human mattress and plushie isn’t helping.

of all days, did (y/n) have to fall asleep on him today—when he can’t make sense of his feelings??

he gulps thickly as his pretty, slender fingers hover her back before ultimately combing through her locks as she slumbers.

slowly, cautiously, undoing the knots and tidying stray strands as he does breathing exercises to calm himself down. but when she groans a complaint of him “being too loud,” he realizes maybe he’s been hyperventilating instead.

he clears his throat as he slowly tries to sit up. it’s a custom between them. when one of them falls asleep mid movie marathon, they’d take care of one another—(y/n) would put a blanket over him and fix his pillow while jake usually tucks her to bed.

but with how much he’s trembling, he might not be able to today.

“(y/n),” he starts softly, just wanting to stir her enough so she’d at least free his legs from being all tangled up with hers but she only nuzzles further—face now buried in the crook of his neck with her lips brushing his skin.

BOOM!

he thinks his heart just exploded.

jake’s overheating, red all over with fingers twitching as he bites the back of his hand to quieten the soft sounds threatening to escape. it’s all too much yet too little, so near yet so far. she’s fogging up all his senses and he can barely even think.

his hand patting her back is near robotic now as he stares at the ceiling blankly, like every single thought he conjures fizzles up and leaves his brain completely empty as he battles with himself from scooping her up and kissing her right then and there.

wait, what?

he chokes on a breath and coughs violently—forcing (y/n) awake and he panics. with eyes wide, he quickly wraps his arms around her, hushing and lulling her back to sleep, guilty for even waking her up while at the same time hiding his face into her hair.

“sorry! sorry, i woke you just—just go back to sleep,” he coos as he cradles her form in his lap and stands to lift her up to bed—only to be stopped when she rubs her face against his chest with a small protest.

“stay…” she slurs sleepily and it’s like a love arrow struck him in the heart as he drops back onto the couch, breathless and awestruck. he looks down at her who’s back to snoring and sleeping, oblivious to the frazzled, flustered state of jake sim who presses a long, lasting kiss onto her forehead in place of her lips.

would it be too weird to buy a diamond ring as a friendship item?

⋆˙𐙚 P.SUNGHOON 𐙚˙⋆

sunghoon isn’t as nonchalant as he aims to be. but people think he is. with his gentle yet distant disposition and random silly little antics, he’s a living contradiction. a man of mystery. and it’s difficult to understand him at times, hard to reach.

especially when he doesn’t bother to since he has someone he sticks to every breathing moment of his day: (y/n). even now, on a sweet, sunny saturday, sunghoon’s sitting on the sofa of her living room as she meticulously puts pretty clips on his fluffy, raven hair.

they just came back from a shopping spree and she bought some cute butterfly clips that apparently flap their wings when the wearer moves or wind blows. it’s up to (y/n) to test that hypothesis herself.

“last one,” she says without even looking at her bestfriend who’s been admiring her nonstop with heart-shaped eyes. “done!”

sunghoon’s jolted back to reality and he smiles softly. “can i see?”

“yeah,” the girl casually replies as she tidies up the torn packages from unboxing her new clips. hoon stands and goes to her standing mirror only for his lips to part in surprise? maybe dismay?? he expected to look cool, or cute, at least, but now he looks like an experiment gone wrong with how his hair’s clipped standing like uneven cut grass frazzled in all directions.

and it’s even slightly disturbing to see the fake butterflies bobbing side to side while being clumped together like an infestation.

he spins, brows knit and takes a deep breath to complai—

“see! cute, right?” (y/n) chirps, the biggest toothy grin on her face as cheeks bunch up and eyes twinkle with pure expectation. suddenly, sunghoon’s words crumble and furrow softens.

“yeah,” he agrees before he can even deny and it leaves himself confused. not for long though, because his bestfriend’s quick to squeal and take a picture with their cheeks pressed together and the proximity has him reeling.

it doesn’t matter that he looks goofy and it would ruin his entire nonchalant image, it doesn’t matter that she practically yanked him down and almost sent him falling face first, it doesn’t matter that his scalp is practically ripping off from the tension of the clips.

because she’s happy—because of him.

and honestly, he’d put his life at stake just to be able to give that to her every single day. to be with her at every single point of her life and make her smile without fail.

in sickness and in health—

wedding vows already??

he mentally slaps himself.

ᡣ𐭩ྀི₊ ⊹ masterlist ᝰ.ᐟ✮⋆˙

𝜗𝜚 hi, it’s romi here!! thank you so much for reading to the end!! if you enjoyed it, don’t forget to leave a heart and reblog— they give me some motivation, ya know? but please do not spam like!! X♡X♡, romi ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

copyright © 2024 thinemoonshine all rights reserved

[inseobts]

Hey Princess pt.3

zoro x fem!reader

part 2 - part 4

you find freedom, love, and a true family among pirates—only to risk everything, even your life, to protect them from the chains of your past.

words count: 3.5k

tags: slow burn, enemies to lovers, banter, mystery backstory, angst and fluff

masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi

You’re outside the palace.

Free.

Almost.

You breathe hard, turning a corner and then freeze.

A small group stands not far from the gates.

Colorful.

Loud.

Too familiar.

The Strawhats.

Your breath catches. You blink like you’re hallucinating.

Luffy stands at the front, wide-eyed, mouth open mid-chew of a meat skewer.

Nami stares, brows drawn together.

Brook’s head literally tilts off his neck with surprise.

Jinbe’s eyes narrow calmly but deeply.

Sanji drops the bouquet of island roses he’s holding.

And Zoro... he's already moving toward you.

You stumble back a step, still panting “W-What… what are you all doing here? How…?”

“They let us in.” Robin says slowly, eyes flicking between you and the castle.

“Why does it look like you weren’t supposed to be out?” Usopp adds nervously.

You look behind you... guards are starting to scramble in the distance. You turn back quickly.

“I—I wasn’t. I ran.”

Zoro stops just a breath away from you now, taking in the blood on your clothes, your panicked expression.

“You’re hurt.” he growls, voice low and sharp.

“I’m fine—” you start.

“You’re bleeding.”

Then suddenly Luffy’s voice rises “Hey! This island has the best meat skewers!”

Everyone turns to look at him. He grins, still chewing.

“They welcomed us with food and stuff.” he adds, mouth full “Said they didn’t want any trouble. Said we could chill.”

“…They what?” you blink “No—no no no, that’s not right. They locked me in! They said they’d kill you if you came for me!”

Zoro’s eyes flash “And now they’re offering us a welcome party?”

Something’s wrong... Very wrong.

“They’re stalling.” Nami says, voice tight.

Robin nods “Waiting for the arranged marriage. If they pretend everything is fine until then, maybe they think they can convince us to leave.”

“No,” you whisper “No, I won’t let them do that.”

Zoro looks at you, then at the rest of the crew “We’re leaving. Now.”

“But—” Sanji starts.

“We’re not playing their game,” Zoro snaps “We take her and we go. If they try to stop us…”

He cracks his knuckles “They’ll regret it.”

You sway slightly, your body finally reacting to the blood loss.

Zoro catches you instantly, one arm around your waist, holding you up like it’s nothing.

“Let me go!” you mumble.

“Shut up,” he says, not unkindly “You’re not doing this alone.”

And then he lifts you, bridal-style, ignoring your protests completely.

The crew forms a loose circle around you as you all start walking back toward the ship.

“This is going to get ugly.” Jinbe mutters.

“Good,” Zoro answers “I’m in the mood for ugly.”

You don’t make it far.

The palace isn’t even out of sight when the main gates open again.

Your heart jumps to your throat when you see them.

Your parents.

Not in a hurry. Not shouting. Just walking calmly, like they’re stepping into a garden party.

The guards flank them, perfect formation. No panic. No raised voices.

“…Weird.” Usopp murmurs, his hand twitching toward his slingshot.

You feel it too. The discomfort. The tightening in your chest.

Something is off.

Zoro’s arms tighten subtly around you as your parents stop a few meters away, smiling like everything’s fine.

“Darling,” your mother says “Come home. You’re being dramatic again.”

Your father’s eyes slide to Zoro “So. The green head is the one you... like?”

You flinch.

He scoffs “That’s awful.”

Your mother smirks “At least pick the blonde one. He brought you flowers, for heaven’s sake.”

“YOU BASTARDS—!” Sanji growls, stepping forward with fire starting at his heel.

Zoro doesn’t move. His eyes never leave your father.

Your voice is cold “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

Your mother’s smile sharpens “We’ll be kind. We won’t punish you if you come willingly. We understand. You were confused.”

Zoro tilts his head “You’ll understand this, too. Back off.”

Brook leans in to Nami “Something is strange, yohoho…”

Your father sighs, like he’s tired “You’re making this hard for everyone.”

And then he mutters to himself “At least we got the right one…”

You frown “What does that mean?”

His fingers twitch slightly behind his back.

The guards snap to motion.

And then Zoro grunts, his body jolting like he’s been stabbed from the inside. His knees buckle a little.

“Zoro?!” you panic, grabbing his face “What’s happening?!”

He’s panting now “S-Something’s… wrong…!”

At the same moment, Chopper, who's standing a little behind the group, yelps and collapses to his knees, clutching his chest.

“CHOPPER!!” Usopp screams, running to him.

“Chopper?!” Robin kneels beside him, trying to stabilize him.

You stare, horrified.

Your father’s smile returns. Cold. Calculated.

“We tagged them,” he says “A little insurance. While you were all enjoying the hospitality of our new village.”

“A poison?” Jinbe growls.

“A trigger,” your mother says “A small chip near their hearts will make their organs slowly fail. Painless if they’re calm… but very quick if we want it to be.”

“No…” you whisper.

Zoro’s still upright, sweating, breathing hard, jaw clenched so tight it trembles.

“But why—” Nami’s voice breaks.

Your father cuts her off “To remind her that actions have consequences.”

He looks right at you “You want to play pirate, darling? Then you’d better be prepared to pay for it.”

You can’t breathe. You can’t think.

They’re hurting Zoro.

They’re hurting Chopper.

And it’s all… because of you.

“We’re not asking anymore,” your mother says “Come home. Marry the prince. Obey your duty.”

“Or watch them die.” your father finishes.

Everyone’s eyes are on you.

Even Zoro is struggling to stay conscious, trying to shake his head.

“No…” he rasps “Don’t listen to them… don’t go…”

You place your hand on his cheek, your touch trembling.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper “I can’t let them hurt you.”

And then you do the one thing he’d never expect.

You step out of his arms and walk slowly… back toward your parents.

The crew erupts in chaos behind you.

“Y/N, no!”

“Come back!!”

“You can’t—!!”

“We’ll fight them! We’ll save you!”

“WAIT!”

You turn once to look at them.

Zoro is on one knee now, blood at the corner of his mouth, eyes locked on yours like he’s trying to hold you there with nothing but his stare.

He doesn’t say anything. But you can feel everything he wants to scream. Everything you want to say back.

But instead, you force a smile... watery, broken.

And say “Please… take care of each other.”

Then you step past the gates and the door closes.

Again.

The silence after you’re taken feels like a black cloud.

Zoro doesn’t move. His fists are in the dirt, breath ragged.

Chopper is still trembling, crumpled in Usopp’s arms.

Brook paces in erratic lines “This… this doesn’t make any sense…!”

“They planned this,” Jinbe growls “They were always steps ahead.”

Luffy isn’t yelling. Not now. He just stares at the gate. Unmoving. Quiet.

That kind of quiet that always means danger.

Sanji is still frozen where you left him. The roses he had prepared for you are crushed beneath his heel now, unnoticed.

And Zoro is silent, but his eyes burn.

Then Chopper coughs weakly and tries to sit up.

“Chopper!” Usopp steadies him “Are you okay now? Is it still hurting?”

The little doctor blinks, dazed “…It’s better. For now.”

Robin crouches beside him “What happened to you?”

Chopper’s hooves shake as he clutches his chest “I don’t… I don’t know. I felt something like a shock. Deep inside. Not like anything I’ve felt before.”

Franky kneels beside him, scanning his little body with a gadget “They said ‘chip’. You think they really implanted something in you?”

Zoro, still kneeling, hisses through his teeth “They must have. Whatever it is—it’s inside me, too.”

Nami looks horrified “But how? When?! No one took you guys away or knocked you out or anything!”

“They didn’t have to.” Chopper says quietly.

Everyone turns to him.

“If it’s small enough,” Chopper murmurs, “it could’ve been injected.”

Brook blinks “Like a needle?”

“Exactly.” Chopper nods slowly, hooves clenched “It wouldn’t take more than a few seconds. And if they used nerve-numbing liquid around the area, we wouldn’t even feel it going in.”

Zoro’s fists tighten “They could’ve done it back in the village… when they ‘welcomed’ us.”

“Shit,” Sanji curses “When they offered us tea… food… drinks…”

Chopper bites his lip “Maybe it was in the water. Or while we slept. There’s no scar. No mark. It’s not surgical. It’s precision-based tech. I don’t even know how to detect it properly, let alone remove it.”

“You’re saying it’s stuck in you and we don’t even know where exactly?” Usopp asks, horrified.

“I can feel it now,” Zoro mutters “Barely. Like a flicker in my ribs. But I can’t locate it.”

“It’s in a place they know you can’t reach,” Robin says grimly “Near a vital organ.”

Chopper nods, ashamed “I’m sorry… I should’ve noticed something, I—”

Luffy suddenly speaks, voice low “Don’t apologize.”

Everyone turns to look at him.

“This isn’t your fault,” Luffy says again, eyes burning holes into the palace wall “It’s theirs. They touched our crewmates. They used them. And they took her.”

He turns, face shadowed by the brim of his hat.

“We’re getting her back.”

Your room is quiet when you’re pushed back inside.

No guards this time. No locks on the door. Because they know you won’t run again. Not if it means Zoro or Chopper suffer.

You don’t cry. You already did. It feels like you’ve cried everything.

The silence is heavy. Even the air feels wrong, too clean, too perfect, too dead.

Then your eyes land on the bed.

A pale blue dress. Soft silk. Handmade.

One you used to wear for palace banquets. One of those they used to say brought out your “gentleness”.

It used to feel like a costume.

Now it feels like a noose.

A note lies on top of the dress, written in that familiar elegant penmanship:

“Wear this for dinner. Your fiancé will be arriving shortly.”

Your breath hitches.

You don’t rip the note.

You don’t throw the dress.

You move like a puppet, hands numb as you clean your face and pull the dress over your body.

It’s a bit too tight now, they don’t know you were free to eat as much as you want on the ship. They don’t know Sanji would feed you your favourite every single time he saw the minimum worry on your face. They don’t know you were happy.

You glance in the mirror. You look like a ghost of your past self.

Except for the small patch of blood soaking through the fabric at your side.

The wound you got during your escape is still open. You didn’t have time to patch it well.

You exhale shakily, walk to the door, and open it.

Two guards stand there, not surprised to see you.

“I… I need to see the palace doctor,” you say, voice soft but steady “This wound—”

You show the stained fabric.

They look at each other, then nod.

“Follow us.”

You walk through the palace. No chains. No leash. But you’ve never felt more owned.

You notice now: no one’s stopping you from going wherever you want.

No locked doors. No eyes watching too closely.

Because they know what you know that they’ve got you caged without bars.

You won’t run again.

Not if it means Zoro could be in pain like that again.

Not if it means Chopper, your sweet little doctor, could collapse again.

You clench your hands, trying not to think about how Zoro looked when he fell.

Trying not to think about how hard it was to walk away from him when all you wanted was to throw yourself in his arms and never move again.

But now you’re wearing a dress picked by your parents.

To meet a man they chose for you.

You press your hand against the bleeding side and whisper to yourself “…Don’t give up yet.”

The infirmary smells the same.

Sterile. Cold. Heavy with old memories.

The palace doctor is already waiting when you’re guided in, an older man with thin silver hair, sleeves rolled, gentle hands.

He doesn’t greet you, just gestures for you to sit “Let me see.”

You lower the fabric of your dress from your side, ignoring the sting, and sit on the edge of the table.

Blood clings to your skin in a smear. The cut’s shallow but raw.

He works quietly. Clean water. Gauze. Alcohol.

“…You’re still clumsy” he says after a long pause.

You smile faintly “You used to say that every time I scraped my knee.”

Dr. Mardel doesn’t look up.

“I remember crying for an hour once,” you continue, softer “Over a bruise from falling off the garden wall.”

“You screamed louder than your injury ever deserved.” he mutters, a small huff of breath escaping him.

A flicker of warmth.

You take that flicker and lean in.

“You always scolded me, but… you never let anyone else touch my wounds. Not even the Queen.”

He wraps the bandage a bit slower.

“I guess I just wanted to feel safe,” you add “I trusted you, Mardel.”

His hand falters. Just slightly.

You watch him carefully “Do you remember when I broke my wrist sneaking into the stables?”

“I remember you said the horses needed freedom,” he murmurs “Even back then, you hated anything with a leash.”

You smile “Still do.”

Silence again. You bite your lip.

“Mardel,” you say gently, “you’re a doctor. You care about people’s bodies, their pain, right?”

He finally looks at you “Of course I do.”

“Then tell me something,” you say, voice low “Zoro and Chopper—those people my parents hurt. They’re carrying something inside them, something small and lethal.”

He freezes.

“I’m not stupid. I know my parents didn’t invent this. They have money. They have scientists. They don’t understand that kind of tech—but you might.”

He says nothing. But he doesn’t look away.

“So I’m asking you,” you say, voice trembling with emotion you don’t even try to fake, “do you know anything about the things they implanted in them?”

“…They didn’t tell me.”

“But you might suspect,” you push “You’re too smart not to.”

He breathes deeply, gaze dropping to his tools.

“I didn’t operate,” he says quietly “No surgery. No incisions. But I saw them… bring in cases. Refrigerated, secure. Filled with something injectable.”

Your heart clenches.

“So they used needles” you whisper.

Mardel nods slowly “I saw one of the specs, briefly. Before it was taken. It looked like a microchip… wrapped in a nerve-conductive casing. Designed to cling to the nervous system. Pain activation. Or worse.”

“…Can it be removed?”

He looks pained “I don’t know how. Not without knowing the trigger mechanism. If we cut it wrong, it could activate instead of deactivating. Or killl them.”

You feel your fists tighten on your lap.

“I don’t want them to hurt.” you whisper.

Mardel’s voice softens “I don’t think you ever did.”

You look up at him.

“Be careful at dinner,” he adds quietly “The prince your parents are inviting… he’s not like you. Or them.”

“…Worse?”

“He collects things,” he mutters, finally rising “And he always keeps what he collects.”

The Straw Hats don’t knock on royal doors.

Not when you’ve been taken behind them.

Not when you’ve been forced to stay.

So they sneak in, like shadows in the night, hearts burning with rage, nerves taut like drawn blades.

“Coast’s clear” Usopp whispers, lowering his goggles.

The crew huddles just outside the palace walls, hidden behind dense foliage. The moon glints off the marble towers ahead.

“This is way too clean for my comfort” Nami mutters, scoping the guards’ movements “No patrol shifts. No alarms. They’re waiting for us.”

“They think we won’t risk it” Sanji says, voice dark “But they forgot one thing…”

“…We’re not normal” Luffy grins.

Brook chuckles from the trees “They never expect the skeleton to scale the palace!”

Franky adjusts his visor “And they definitely didn’t expect a cyborg with rocket heels.”

Jinbe stays calm, hands behind his back “Keep eyes open. We’re not here to fight, we’re here to learn.”

Zoro stays quiet.

He hasn’t spoken since they lost you.

He only grips Wado Ichimonji tighter at his hip and stares up at the towers, at the place where you sleep alone tonight, dressed in chains of silk and obligation.

They stole you. And he’s getting you back.

They split once inside.

Usopp and Franky take the eastern wing, where the labs are rumored to be.

Robin and Nami blend into the servant hallways, trailing whispers and paperwork.

Brook and Jinbe move toward the lower guards’ quarters, hoping to catch loose tongues and tired eyes.

Sanji heads toward the kitchens. The staff always gossips.

Luffy goes… wherever Luffy goes.

Zoro moves silent as a ghost through the west wing—toward your room.

In a shadowed hallway, the crew regroups briefly behind a statue of some noble dead man.

Robin unrolls a paper she found “They funded something called the ‘NerveLock Project.’ It matches what Chopper described.”

Franky scans it “These specs… Damn. It’s nano-encoded. Like a virus, no surgery needed. Just one jab and boom! It latches to your spine.”

“Can we remove it?” Sanji asks, tense.

“Not yet,” Franky says “But if we find the lead engineer... this ‘Doctor Stellan’, we’ve got a chance.”

“He’s on palace payroll,” Robin adds “Still working in the basement labs.”

Zoro’s eyes flick to the wall beyond them “Then we get him. No excuses left.”

Everyone pauses, because they all know what he means.

No more chip.

No more blackmail.

No more reason for you to stay in that golden prison.

No more reason for you to marry a man who doesn’t deserve to breathe near you.

Nami rests a hand on his arm “We’ll get her back.”

Zoro doesn’t look at her.

But he nods.

Just once.

Your wound is patched now, though it aches with every step.

The hall ahead of you is lit with chandeliers, every flame steady, like the room is holding its breath.

At the end of the room waits a table long enough to seat your whole crew.

But it only seats four.

You.

Your parents.

And him... The prince.

He stands as you walk in, smiling like a man who’s never been told no in his life.

“Your Highness,” he says, voice too smooth “You look radiant.”

You sit without looking at him “I didn’t dress myself.”

He laughs “Sharp. I like that.”

Your parents exchange tired looks but say nothing as servants pour wine and place silver-domed plates.

“I hope you’ll try to be… cooperative tonight.” your mother says softly, warning hidden in her smile.

You sip the wine. It’s good. But it tastes like a funeral.

The prince tries to make conversation. Talks about his training, his accomplishments, his castle’s view.

You stare past him, past the table, past your own heartbeat.

Then he says the wrong thing.

“I heard about your little pirate phase,” he chuckles, sipping his wine “Don’t worry. That’s behind you now.”

You look up slowly. Your jaw tightens.

“Is that so?”

Your father steps in “Enough, both of you. This dinner is for moving forward.”

You grip your fork.

Forward feels like a death sentence.

What you don’t know is that two floors below…

Robin is already inside the palace’s hidden archive room.

Franky has tapped into a power conduit and is copying encrypted files.

And Zoro is even scaling the outer wall like a shadow, getting closer to your window.

You’re not as alone as they want you to believe.

The prince leans closer “This arrangement... this marriage is the best choice for you. I mean… who else would want to marry someone so broken?”

You freeze.

That word slices through everything.

Broken.

You think of Zoro’s hands on yours. His lips against your temple. His voice, quiet and sure when he said, “I’ve got you”.

Your fingers curl.

“No one chose you,” you say coldly “You were picked like a weapon. Like a safety net.”

He glares “And you were chosen out of pity.”

“Enough.” your father barks.

You rise and for once, your voice doesn’t shake “I’ve already chosen someone. And it’s not him.”

Gasps. Shouting.

You’re already halfway out the door.

Back in the dark corridors, the Straw Hats gather around a panel of notes Franky stole.

“He can’t remove the chip remotely,” Franky whispers “But this guy… this ‘Doctor Stellan’… he can disarm it if we make him.”

Zoro exhales “Where is he?”

Robin points “Sub-basement lab. Guarded.”

Zoro draws his sword “Then let’s cut our way through.”

You barely touch the grand doors when his voice stops you.

“You’re forgetting something.” your father says calmly, like he’s reminding you of a missing glove.

You turn slowly.

He pulls something from his coat. A smooth, black device. Small. Simple.

Deadly.

“Sit down.” he says, tapping his thumb against a glowing button.

Your heart drops.

“No...”

He presses it.

[sereia4skz]

I bet bangchan scolds the other hybrids for eating outside animals and leaving bloody messes in the house

1k Followers Event | and why are we hunting?

pairing: ot8!straykids x reader | part 1

genre: fluff

warnings: mentions of blood and hunting

event masterlist: #1kShootingStars

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AN: silly and cute just to break all the filth :P

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You’re perched on the counter now, watching Jeongin and Seungmin scrub at the muddy, bloody mess they tracked in, both in fresh but slightly too-small T-shirts and towels slung low on their hips. You’ve given up trying to supervise properly, what’s the point when Seungmin keeps flicking his ears at you every time your gaze lingers too long?

The front door creaks open.

“Smells like blood and wet fur,” Hyunjin’s voice rings out, full of suspicion and barely-concealed disgust. 

He's quickly followed by Changbin, who looks like he cannot wait to get out of the rom=om, “Who died?”

You don’t even look up from the boys knelt near the entrance,“Nobody died! But if Jeongin tracks one more drop of fox gore into this house, I might lose it.”

Footsteps shuffle in behind him. “Oh my god,” Jisung gasps, his socked feet skidding to a stop. “There’s chunks. I am not- I am not cleaning this. Nope.”

“Good,” you snap, waving your mop in the maknae's direction without turning. “You’re not. They are.”

You jerk your chin toward the two hybrids beside you, freshly showered, towel-draped, and absolutely sulking.

Jeongin sits on his knees with his fluffy red tail twitching behind him, scrubbing at the baseboards with all the grace of a child forced to clean up their own mess. His auburn ears keep flicking irritably, damp and stuck to his temples. Beside him, Seungmin is even grumpier, lounged on one hip, holding a towel like it personally offended him. He’s muttering under his breath as he half-heartedly scrubs at a bloody footprint.

Then Chan steps inside, you know it’s Chan before he says a word. The low, steady sound of his boots thudding against the wood. The pause as he takes in the room.

“Jeongin. Seungmin.”

Both hybrids freeze, mid-scrub. Jeongin’s ears flatten. Seungmin huffs but doesn’t look up. 

Chan folds his arms across his chest, his tone already dipped in disappointment. “How many times do I have to tell you not to use the damn pet door when you’re hunting?”

“We didn’t bring it in,” Jeongin mumbles defensively. “We ate it outside.”

“You’re still tracking blood through the house!” you shou, waving your mop around. “They shook off right inside the door like animals.”

Minho arrives just then, unwinding his scarf like he owns the place, because he basically does. “My god,” he sighs, spotting the mess. “I cook them a decent dinner and they’re still out there playing wilderness fantasy like it’s Wolf Children.”

Seungmin doesn’t look remotely sorry. “We weren’t pretending.”

“We were hungry,” Jeongin adds quickly.

Minho raises an eyebrow. “You know who else is hungry? Me. And I still use the stove.”

“This is so gross!” Jisung whines from the doorway. 

You whirl around with your hands on your hips. “No more hunting while I’m in the house! I don’t care how primal your instincts are! Chan, please…”

Chan exhales through his nose, shaking his head. “Add it to the house rules list. Right under ‘no shifting naked in the living room’ and ‘don’t scare the delivery guy.’”

Jeongin gives a low fox-like whine of protest, his tail curling around his leg. “It wasn’t that messy…”

“You were dripping,” you remind him. “Blood. Mud. At the same time.”

“Could’ve at least bagged the meat,” Minho grumbles, nose wrinkling. “Or cleaned up after yourselves like civilized hybrids. What are you- feral?”

Seungmin finally looks up, grinning like the menace he is, still wiping half-heartedly at the floor. “You love us feral.”

“Only when you’re not bleeding on the rugs,” Minho fires back.

You groan and press a hand to your forehead. The house smells like pine-scented cleaner and wild animals and boys.

Seungmin slumps dramatically across the floorboards. “Noona, you’re so mean to us.”

“You made me mop blood,” you snap. “You are not the victim here.”

Jeongin creeps closer on his knees, peering up at you with those big brown eyes, ears twitching down into a pout. “But we caught it for you, noona.”

“Oh no. Don’t you dare,” you wag a finger at him. “You do not get to play the cute card right now.”

Felix is halfway down the hall already. “I’m not touching anything until someone Lysols the door.”

Chan sighs and rubs at his temples. “I’m gonna need a drink.”

You glance down at the hybrids still at your feet, mussed hair, flushed cheeks, tails dragging guiltily as they scrub.

You blow out a breath. “Get this floor spotless, and I might consider letting you eat dessert.”

Jeongin’s ears perk. Seungmin grins wide and devilish. “Are you dessert, noona?”

“Scrub faster, before I make you mop the ceiling,” you warn.

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taglist: @diekleinesuesse @tillaboo @felixsonlyrealwife @geni-627 @skz8riley @lezleeferguson-120 @pixie-felix @headfirstfortoro @alnex05 @baby-stay92 @encoredesires @androgynouscrownorbit @channiesluvrclub @my-neurodivergent-world @chims-dimple @bookswillfindyouaway @stellasays45 @angel-writes-skz-here @m-325 @0sunshinecryptid0 @beal-o @hug4helios @oksullen @rileylovescats

[ms-demeanor]

Over a year ago, something broke - we changed licenses or reporting or hardware or something, and a particular kind of alert stopped alerting. Since then, that manager has gotten up at 2am and 5am every day, including when he's on vacation, to make sure we're not missing the non-alerts.

At the very least, he's not a hypocrite. He works probably 70 hours in an average week and never complains about it and if he takes a week off, literally none of the rest of us knows how to do about half of his job. He got a really bad flu a couple months ago and monthly billing was delayed for a full week.

From my perspective I'm like, that's horrifying. Why are you waking up twice a night to check this instead of getting the alert fixed? And the answer is "that would cost us money that the former CEO doesn't want to spend, he said no to buying the product that would fix it, so I'm making sure it isn't broken"

Let that shit break, my dude. You're setting a terrible example. I'm pretty sure if the current CEO knew you were doing this he'd shit a brick.

My manager was in my role (general office admin and buyer of stuff with some experience doing desktop repair) at the initial acquired company three years ago and was forced to grow into a role about 12 levels above where he started and 20+ direct reports. One year of forced growth and a promotion (with a pay increase but not a huge pay increase) of about four levels has been catastrophic for me and I haven't even had to deal with overseeing an acquisition and onboarding more people to this mess (and my workload). I don't think he realizes how fucked up HIS job is, and he's used to getting turned down for tools that would make his life easier, and he's not really comfortable pulling people from tickets or pushing escalations.

So he hasn't been fired because he is another "we'd collapse without you, you're irreplaceable, you hold tremendous undocumented institutional knowledge" member of the team who has been working himself to the bone to stave off an implosion. Genuinely I think he's traumatized by his own acquisition and is terrified of getting fired and was deeply exploited by the CEO who started all of this, and I feel bad for him, but I can not and should not have to work like that no matter what they're paying me.

probably not a good sign that i couldn't talk about work at the con this weekend without crying a little and that I had to force myself to leave my laptop at home so i couldn't do work and leaving my laptop at home made me feel a little panicky and also now i kind of want to throw up instead of going to work tomorrow.

I'm so overloaded that I've become completely ineffective, I've got so many projects that none of them are getting done, fucked up tracking time a couple weeks ago and missed twenty or so hours on my paycheck and am feeling so fried that I am struggling to muster up the energy to fix it (i shouldn't have missed that many hours anyway i'm hourly there's supposed to be a clock system for me but there isn't the time tracking is supposed to be for metrics not for how i get paid and now i have to dump time into fixing that)

there is a repository of business information that lives ONLY on my computer (my personal computer, because I do not have a work computer) that needs to get uploaded to our documentation system but the configs exported from one system as PDFs but can't be uploaded to the other as PDF so I need to open each one and save it in word so I can upload them individually because the system can take word docs but not PDFs

I need to finish creating the spreadsheet of standard hardware and put specifications and part numbers and standard costs on it but I need to meet with the networking team lead so we can go over spec for the networking equipment because the standards are new to both of us and I need to know what he's looking for if one of the standards are out of stock and he needs to learn the abbreviation/part number system for that particular vendor so i need to teach it to him and until we're on the same page I can't finish my hardware standards project

I need to create a guide for the practice leads to reach out to vendors in their relevant practices because right now I'm the one who reaches out so I'm the one who has the meetings about spec quotes and nobody else knows who to call or where to submit a consultation request

I need to create a guide for the techs to source hardware and figure out part numbers and compare specs

i need to quote two printer options for a client

i need to email the vendor about the mis-applied warranty and have it corrected to the appropriate device

i need to get uptime data on eight servers collected for the bimonthly client meeting

i need to call microsoft to get access to a tenant for a user we never should have sold licenses to

i need to check tracking and update the order spreadsheet

i need to export the list of firewalls from one vendor and sort it by active clients and sort it by the ones that need to be replaced because they're EOL and then the ones that need to be renewed and then the ones that aren't on fire that we can consider replacing in two years

I need to look at the list of servers and sort by drive type and get the drive part numbers so that I can get spares to all the clients

of those things, I think I've got tickets for two or three of them. The other forty five tickets I have are unrelated to this task list.

[bright-side20]

The blooming scar 🌺

Azriel never complained.

Not when his shoulders were stiff from flying, not when his knuckles were cracked from training... But Elain noticed.

She noticed the way he flexed his hands sometimes, like they ached more than he'd ever admit the way he'd rub his thumb over his palm absentmindedly when he thought no one was watching.

So tonight when he returned late, she met him at the door with a small, warm smile and a bottle of rose and cedarwood oil in her hand.

"Sit" she said gently tugging him toward the couch.

He raised a brow but obeyed. She sat beside him, knees curled beneath her nightgown, took his hands, and poured a few drops of oil into her palm, rubbing them together to warm it. The scent of roses bloomed between them.

"I made this oil for you"she said, then started slowly her thumbs pressing into the base of his fingers, working over the tired joints. His hands were too big, so strong but in hers, they felt breakable. And she treated them that way with gentleness.

Azriel didn't speak. He just watched her slowly relaxing into the couch, his wings twitching with every pass of her touch. "Why rose and cedar?" he asked quietly.

"Rose for healing," she murmured. "Cedar for comfort."

Then he was silent again.

Azriel's hands rested in her lap. She worked slowly, tracing each scar like a path only she knew how to follow. Her thumbs pressed into the calloused ridges with care her touch featherlight and soothing.

The oil shimmered in the faelight settling into the old scars ,scars she knew were burned into him by cruelty. The thought made her angry. "I hate that they did this to you," she whispered, her thumb brushing over the rough ridges on his knuckles.

"I don't remember the pain anymore"he said after a pause, "Just the fire and the endless darkness."

Elain's heart ached but she didn't press. Instead she gently turned his hand over and brushed her thumb across one small scar right below his thumb half hidden. It was a scar she'd always noticed but never spoken about, small and curved just so like the petal of a flower.

"Do you know what this one looks like?" she asked softly, brushing over it with the tip of her thumb.

Azriel opened his eyes and looked down. "Which one?"

"This" she murmured, guiding his gaze. "Here."

He squinted slightly, then his brows furrowed. "It's just a scar."

Elain shook her head with a small smile. "It looks like an iris."

He blinked. "The flower?"

She nodded. "They symbolize hope. And courage. Like… something still bloomed through all the hurt."

Azriel let out a quiet breath something unreadable flickering across his face. "I never noticed."

"I did" she said ." The first time I held your hand, actually."

He looked at her then, really looked.

"I think it suits you," she added smiling as she poured more oil onto her hand. "A scar shaped like hope."

He swallowed his voice lower than before "No one's ever said anything like that to me."

"They should've," she answered.

For a while he said nothing.

Elain didn't rush him. She simply held his hand in hers, gently brushing that tiny bloom shaped scar over and over.

Finally his voice broke the silence, a little rough.

"I used to think my hands would never do anything good."

She looked up eyes wide and patient.

"I was eight," he continued gaze fixed on some far off point . "When they started with the flames. They'd hold my wrists down, and I'd scream until I lost my voice. But even after… when I was out… I didn't let anyone touch my hands for centuries. Not even Madja."

He flexed his fingers slowly as if recalling the pain.

"I trained with the pain in them. Fought through it. But every time someone looked at my hands, I thought they saw only the damage. What was broken."

Elain's fingers tightened around his.

"That's not what I see."

Azriel finally looked at her. "I know," he said almost disbelieving. "That's the terrifying part."

Her eyes shimmered with something soft and fierce all at once. "It's not terrifying. It's the truth."

He gave a shaky laugh. "You're the only one who touches them like they're worth something."

"They are." Her voice didn't waver. "Because they've saved lives. They've held people together. They've held me Azriel." Then she took both his hands, pressing gentle kisses on each of them.

His breath caught she saw it, felt it. Then he bowed his head, resting it against her neck, his hands still in hers.

"I don't remember getting that scar," he whispered against her skin. "The iris." His warm breath sent a shiver through her.

"Maybe you didn't need to," she said softly. "Maybe it's not from a moment of pain. Maybe it's the first mark of healing."

Azriel lifted his head slowly, his eyes tracing hers like he couldn't quite believe she was real. That she had said all those things. That she held his hands like they were something precious.

"Elain" he murmured her name more breath than sound. But she was already leaning forward her forehead brushing his. "Yes" she whispered, her finger gently wiping the tear rolling down his cheek. His hands cupped her face carefully as if he thought she might vanish. But Elain only leaned into the touch into him.

Their lips met. It wasn't desperate or rushed. Just soft,meaningful. The kind of kiss that lingers even after it ends. She pulled back first just enough to murmur, "I love your hands."

Azriel looked at her like she'd just broken a chain he'd spent years wrapping around himself.

"I love you,"she added and meant it with every breath.

He didn't answer right away. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed her fingertips one by one. Then he kissed the scar he had never really noticed until tonight ,the one shaped like a flower. He wasn't burying pain but he was finally letting it go.

Elain beamed at him, tears filling her eyes and then Azriel pulled her close until she nestled against his chest. "I love you" he told her.

His arms held her gently one hand resting on her waist, the other tracing patterns along her spine. After a while his fingers drifted upward toward her hair, loose and sweet smelling from the rose oil she'd used earlier.

He found a soft curl tucked behind her ear and brushed it aside. Then she felt his hand hover near her cheek. With the faintest touch, he traced a small petal against her skin. Like an iris just once.

She didn't open her eyes ,but her lips curved into a smile.

And Azriel so deeply loved smiled back. A true one, real. Because for the first time he wasn't afraid of what his hands might touch. Because Elain had seen the ruin and offered him a garden...

[selineram3421]

*sleepy*

Courting Pursuit

Part 4

Part 3

Alastor X Deer Reader

Warnings ⚠

⚠ mule deer reader, assuming Alastor is a marsh deer, drug mention-aphrodisiac, Italics= thoughts, bruh..>///< shower scene-butt naked dude (no detail), Spanish translated, cussing, oho? 👀. ⚠

Everything felt wrong.

Too much at once.

It was too hot. Why did it feel like you were burning? You barely made it to your hotel room, fumbling with the doorknob.

Then you felt dizzy, letting the door slam open as you stumbled to your bed. Falling onto it, you tugged at the sheets and blankets, quickly covering yourself with them to settle that odd itch tingling throughout your body.

After piling on all of the blankets, it felt somewhat better, but it was still too hot.

Then you felt like your insides were burning. The fire spreading through your veins and all the way down, making you flinch.

It felt disgusting.

Uncomfortable.

Then there was a knock on your door.

"Gentle Giant? You good in there?", Angel asked.

"¡Por favor, vete!", you groaned. (Please, go away!) "Go away.."

"I can't really do that. I need to make sure you're ok.", the spider insisted. "You need to wash that stuff off of ya.. I know it feels painful."

It was getting hard to think clearly, but it did sound like a good idea to wash. Slowly crawling out of the blankets, you held onto the top of the bed's footboard and dragged yourself to stand up.

Angel touched your shoulder and it felt like you were being burned with a hot branding iron.

Hissing at the contact, you moved away.

"Vete.", you whined in pain.

"Shit.", the spider says. "I'll get the water started, we gotta wash all of the aphrodisiac off of you."

You slowly made your way over to the bathroom, shaking as you managed to grip the wood of the doorway.

The spider demon got the tub filled up and went to help you, but you shook your head and pointed to the door.

"Leave.", you said through clenched teeth. "Please."

You didn't want anyone touching you. Angel meant well but you didn't want to feel that burning sensation again.

"Ok..", he said and walked over to the door, giving you one last glance. "Call if you need help.", he said before leaving and closing the door.

Quickly, you locked the door and tore off your clothes, dropping them to the floor.

You almost stumbled as you walked into the bathroom, carefully leaning against the tiled wall as you pushed the shower curtains open.

The shower head was on, the drops making ripples as it landed in the half filled tub.

There was a knock at the door.

"Knock knock! I've brought you some water!"

You froze.

No. No, no, no, no, no-!

You shut the bathroom door closed and locked it. Grabbing a towel and stuffing it under the door gap.

¡Mierda! ¡Ahora no! ¿Por qué está aquí? (Shit! Not now! Why is he here!?) You hid your face in your hands. Por favor. Por favor, vete. (Please. Please, leave.)

You held the curtain, about to step into the tub when you found yourself staring at familiar red eyes.

"Oy-!", your hoove slipped and you pulled at the curtain, causing it to rip off a few rings as you fell.

The water splashed as you fell in the tub, one hand against the somewhat dry tile and the other holding the back of the red deer's head. You took deep breaths, shocked and a bit surprised about what just happened as the water rained down on you from the shower head.

Looking down, you saw Alastor below you.

Wet and slightly submerged in the water filled tub, his eyes looking at your bare chest before he looked up at your face.

You took a shaky breath.

He blushed.

Joder- (Fuck-)

.

Alastor was curious.

He's heard of the drug before, not really sure when and where but it was quite the scene or so he's been told when it took effect.

The deer demon was at the bar, bothering Husker when Angel returned.

"Husk. I'm gonna need a lot of water. Got anything gallon sized?", the spider asked.

"The fuck for?", the cat wondered.

"It's for something important! Do ya have it or not?"

Alastor's curiosity grew.

"I might be of assistance!", he grinned. "Though..I believe it would be better for me to carry such a heavy thing. Where might I drop it off?", he asked.

"Drop it off at Gentle Giant's door. I'm gonna get somethin' else for them. Wait for me there!", Angel said before running off again.

With his excuse, Alastor teleported upstairs and summoned a gallon of water.

There's no point in waiting. He thought and knocked on the door.

"Knock Knock! I've brought you some water!"

But he heard no response.

"Hm..", he hummed before a thought popped into his head.

Wouldn't it be funny if I scared them? His smile widened. Oh it would be hilarious~

Traveling through the shadows, he emerged in the bathroom, but to his and their surprise..

"Oy-!", the mule deer shouted as they slipped.

Both of them fell into the tub, water splashing and he felt that they held his head before could it hit anything.

He had shut his eyes as he fell, and blinked them open. The first thing he realized was that he was now soaking wet, his suit clung onto him and it was uncomfortable. Then the second was what he was looking at.

The Radio Demon had a full view of their chest rising and falling, water dripping down from the sides of their torso and lower-

He looked up at their face quickly and blushed.

They had such an odd look on their face. Pained and flustered at the same time. They opened their mouth slightly.

Before they could speak, there was a knock at the door.

"Gentle Giant? I got some clothes for ya! They are soft so ya won't get too itchy.", Angel said from out in the hall. "I'll leave 'em here! Damn it Smiles-I told him to wait here.."

The spider left soon after.

"¿Estás bien?", they asked, more like panted out. (Are you ok?)

"Yes..", he blinked up at them.

They nodded and turned their head away, the mule deer's cheeks fully flushed.

"Bien. Entonces, por favor, váyase. Rápido.", they moved back, away from him and curled up on the other side of the tub as much as they could and hid themselves. (Good. Then please see yourself out. Quickly.)

Alastor stared at them a bit confused as he sat up in the tub.

"I don't understand what's wrong. Angel said you were drugged?"

They were covering their face, from what he could see at least.

"Fuck-", they cursed as they shook.

"What needs to be done to get it out of your system?", he asked a bit worried.

Worried? No-Why would I be worried?

"Tengo tantas ganas de besarte pero tengo que luchar contra mí misma.", they muttered into the palm of their hand. (I want to kiss you so badly but I have to fight myself.)

The Radio Demon sat still in the tub, not knowing what to do, and he also couldn't understand most of what they said as they were covering their mouth.

But they had asked him to leave earlier, so he would.

Standing up, the water dripped from his suit and he cringed slightly at the feeling of the cloth sticking to himself.

"Apologies for..well, barging in. I didn't intend for something like this to happen.", he said and stepped out of the tub.

He almost slipped but the mule deer quickly held out an arm for him to hold onto to regain his balance.

One thing he took note of was that they were still avoiding eye contact, as if they couldn't look at him for some reason.

"Thank you..", Alastor said and let go of their arm. "Good night.", he said finally and left the bathroom.

He teleported himself in his room, quickly switching out his clothes and drying himself as he walked over to the winged armchair.

Sitting down, he pondered about what just occurred.

The memory of them leaning over him with that look across their face flashed across his mind.

.

..

...

Fuck-

Tehe~ *skidaddles*

~Seline, the person.

Anon Art

Part 5 Taglist@

@sleep-7372 @wat4r @lustylita @xdolls-crownx @lonelysimp18 @dilucragnvindr-my-beloved @dap11 @al1fers-haven @futureittomainn @random-3455 @saturnhas82moons @creativechaosx @n4mel3ssn0b0dy @littledolly2345 @boogiemansbitch @rerarlo @thegoodnamesaretaken-blog @acrazyartist @microwavre @lovingyeet @xoxohugslove @hon3yyslvt @kt-willson @funtimefreddynaofficial @1warrior1cat1fan1 @mistpurpl3 @i-3at-kidz @queenie32 @gamerxpfighter @hellishbimbo @minamilinaqueen @thenofaceknight @junieshohoho @sarah-dreemurr-magne @hyperfixationer @michi-keinz @hazbin-collection @tepla-deka @blueberry-muffin323 @5even777 @+? @+more in the comments+

ML II Alastor🎙️| CP ChL🦌

[szariahwroteit]

Girls Need Love: A Kylian Mbappè x Original Character Erotic Series.

18+ Minors DNI

Chapter 26

“You’re heading back to Madrid tomorrow,” Giselle pouted, her hands slipping around Kylian’s waist as she gazed into his eyes, already anticipating his absence.

“Come with me,” Kylian smirked, his hands playfully squishing them and puckering her glossy lips.

“I have a shoot for Elle coming up, I’d love to but I can't, baby.”

Kylian's expression softened, the playful smirk fading into something more serious as he brushed a strand of hair behind Giselle's ear. “I understand, but I wish you could be there with me.”

Giselle's heart melted at his sincerity. “It’s just for a little while. I promise I’ll make it up to you,” she said, her eyes hopeful as she leaned closer. “I promise I'll be back in Madrid with you soon.”

“Before the final match of my season?” Kylian inquired.

“Yes,” Giselle smiled softly, standing on her tiptoes to kiss his lips. Her body melted against his as she felt his hands slip to her waist, holding her body against his.

Kylian's heart swelled with affection as Giselle's lips met his, the softness of her kiss igniting a fire within him. He deepened the kiss, his tongue dancing with hers as his hands roamed her curves possessively. When they finally broke apart, he rested his forehead against hers, his voice low and husky.

"Promise me, Giselle. Promise me you'll be there for the final match. I want you in the stands, cheering me on."

Giselle's eyes sparkled with excitement and love as she nodded, her hands sliding up his chest to loop around his neck. "I promise, Kylian. I wouldn't miss it for the world. You know how much I love watching you play, how proud I am of you."

Kylian's hands slid down to cup her ass, giving it a firm squeeze as he pulled her flush against him. "And after the match, I want to celebrate with you. Alone. Just the two of us," he growled, his lips trailing hot kisses along her jaw and neck.

“Tell me what you're going to do to me,” Giselle smirked.

Kylian's hands gripped Giselle's hips firmly as he ground his already hardening length against her. "I'm going to worship every inch of your body," he growled, his voice low and thick with desire. "I'm going to take my time exploring every curve, every secret spot that makes you moan."

His hands slid under her shirt, caressing the smooth skin of her back before dipping lower to unclasp her bra with expert fingers. "I want to feel your naked body against mine, to taste every part of you until you're trembling with need."

Kylian's lips found the sensitive spot on her neck, sucking and nipping at the delicate skin as his hands cupped her breasts, kneading the soft flesh. "I'm going to tease you until you're begging for my cock, until you're so wet and ready for me that you can't think of anything else."

He pulled back to look into her eyes, his dark with lust. "And then, when you're desperate for me, I'm going to fuck you so hard and deep, filling you up until you're screaming my name.”

“I thought you preferred it when I call you, Daddy?” Giselle smirked.

“Behave, I have a meeting to attend,” Kylian warned, despite his words his hands continued to grip and explore her.

“You started it,” Giselle shot back playfully, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “You can't just drop all that on me and expect me to behave.”

Kylian chuckled, the heat of desire still lingering between them as he tried to regain his composure. “I know, but if you keep this up, I might end up losing out on a few million,” he admitted, his voice low and sultry.

“Aren't I worth it?” Giselle asked, gazing up at him through her lashes.

“That is exactly why I need you to stop,” he said, chuckling softly, though his words lacked any real conviction. Kylian couldn't help but feel intoxicated by her presence, the way she effortlessly drew out his desires and pushed boundaries.

“Go and spend time with your sisters, after the meeting I will meet you guys at the arena for the Knicks game, and then I am taking you all to dinner.” Kylian continued.

“Or we could just stay hidden away in our suite?” Giselle asked, playfully wiggling her eyebrows at him.

Kylian let out a deep laugh, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "As tempting as that sounds, I can't let you abandon your sisters."

Giselle pouted slightly, knowing full well the allure of their private time together. "But just think about how much fun we could have... all alone. No distractions, just us."

His expression softened again, wrestling with the delightful temptation she presented. "You're making it harder for me, you know that? I have to keep my priorities straight."

"But, I want to make you hard," she countered, stepping closer, brushing her body against his as she cupped his length through his jeans in her dainty hand.

Kylian's resolve wavered as he looked down into her captivating eyes. "Giselle, please,” he all but begged.

“Fine,” she huffed, her plump lips curling into a pout that made Kylian’s stomach flip.

“Come here,” he murmured, taking hold of her hand so he could pull her closer once more. His eyes darkened with desire as he bent his head to capture her lips in another searing kiss, their bodies melding together again.

Giselle melted against him, feeling the heat radiate from his body as his hands moved down her sides, igniting every nerve ending. Kylian’s lips moved skillfully against hers, teasing and exploring, igniting a fire deep within her.

The kiss deepened, Kylian's hands gripping her hips as he pressed her against the wall, a growl escaping his lips as he felt the soft curves of her body beneath his touch.

“I can’t help but want you,” he murmured against her lips, his breath hot and heavy.

“I’m falling in love with you,” Giselle whispered back, her body stiffening as she realized what she'd allowed to let slip from her mouth.

Kylian pulled back slightly, his eyes widening at her confession. In that brief moment, time seemed to stand still as they searched each other's gaze, the air thick with unspoken emotions.

“Are you serious?” he asked, his voice low, tinged with both surprise and something immensely deeper.

Giselle felt her heart race, a mixture of vulnerability and exhilaration coursing through her. “I am,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “I don't mean to spring this on, nor do I want you to feel obligated in any way, but it’s the truth. You’ve become so important to me.”

Kylian's expression softened, his surprise giving way to something warmer. “You have no idea how much that means to me,” he said, his voice sincere.

Giselle felt a rush of relief wash over her, her heart fluttering at his words. “Really? You mean it?”

“We’ve had something special from the beginning, haven’t we?” Kylian said, his fingers lightly tracing the contours of her jawline. “Every moment together just confirms it for me."

Kylian's heart swelled with emotion as Giselle's confession hung in the air between them. He gazed into her eyes, seeing the vulnerability and sincerity that lay within their depths. At that moment, he knew that his feelings for her were just as strong, if not stronger.

"I mean it, Giselle," he said softly, his thumb brushing gently across her cheek. "I've fallen for you too. You've captured my heart in a way I never thought possible."

He leaned in, pressing his forehead against hers as he closed his eyes, savoring the closeness and intimacy of the moment. "I want to be with you, to build together. You make me happier than I've ever been."

Giselle's heart raced at his words, tears of joy pricking at the corners of her eyes. She wrapped her arms around him, holding him tightly as if afraid he might disappear. "I want that too," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. "I want to be yours, completely."

“You already are,” Kylian murmured, his voice filled with warmth and affection. He pulled her even closer, wrapping his arms securely around her.

Giselle felt a sense of safety in his embrace, a feeling she had longed for. It was as though all the chaos of the world faded away, leaving just the two of them suspended in this beautiful moment.

“I don’t want to rush anything, but I want you to know that I’m committed to this,” he spoke softly. “What we have is real, and I want to explore it fully.”

Giselle nodded, her heart filled with hope. “I couldn’t agree more. I’m ready to see where this takes us.”

Kylian smiled, the corners of his mouth lifting with genuine happiness. “Then let’s make a promise to be open and honest with each other, to share our thoughts and feelings as we navigate this together.”

“Deal,” she replied, her heart swelling at the thought of their journey ahead.

Without thinking, Kylian cupped her face in his hands, leaning down to kiss her again. The kiss was soft, filled with all the emotions they had just shared—love, excitement, and the promise of what was to come.

As their lips moved together, Giselle couldn’t help but wish for the time to speed up so they could be together again after Kylian’s meeting.

Being made to wait to be with the only person she wanted to share herself with felt like torture, and being made to shop with her older sisters felt more like a childlike punishment than a means of passing time as they proved and teased her in only the way older siblings could.

Their banter came from a place of love and familiarity, a place of genuine support and unwavering curiosity.

“Honestly, I imagined Kylian being a one-night stand when we met,” Giselle revealed to her sisters as she stood on a small podium in the center of the Manhattan boutique they shopped in as she inspected the outfit she was trying on.

“What changed? I mean, it's clear as day you guys are infatuated with one another.” Ayesha questioned, of her sisters she was the eldest and most reserved.

“Are we going to skip over the fact that Gi is out here having one-night stands?!” Tabitha asked in amusement, her eyes flicking back and forth between her sisters as they prepared to leave their hotel.

Giselle chuckled, adjusting her top with a playful smirk. “I didn’t plan for it to happen. He was just supposed to be a fun distraction at a time I was feeling low.”

“But you guys are practically glued at the hip now,” Ayesha pointed out, a knowing smile creeping onto her face.

“It’s so much more than just physical. There’s this connection, this chemistry that I can’t ignore. I told him I’m falling in love with him,” Giselle admitted, her cheeks flushing slightly at the confession.

“I fucking knew it!” Tabitha gasped excitedly. “We had this conversation at your event.”

“You did,” Giselle blushed. “I didn't plan on saying it to him, but I did and the moment felt right.”

“It happened today?” Ayesha asked curiously.

“Yes, he was leaving for a meeting and it kinda just slipped out,” Giselle replied, her heart racing at the memory. "I was so caught up in the moment, you know? The way he looked at me, the way he made me feel—it just came tumbling out."

Ayesha, the eldest, tilted her head, her expression intrigued. “But how do you feel about it? Falling in love can be a big step, especially after you thought it was just going to be a fling.”

Giselle took a deep breath, trying to collect her thoughts. "I know it sounds scary, but it feels right. I've never had someone understand me the way Kylian does. He's not just a distraction; he’s a significant part of my life."

The shopping trip continued with the women going from store to store collecting items and memories as they went.

By the time they were done, they barely had time to head to the hotel and drop off their bags before making their way over to Madison Square Garden in time for tip-off.

Making his way up to the private suite he'd rented for the evening as it reached halftime between the Knicks and Celtics, Kylian couldn't help himself as he took Giselle's hand, leading her to the back of the room for a little alone time.

“Kiss me,” he smirked, hooking a finger under Giselle’s chin as he eyed her plump lips.

Giselle's heart raced as Kylian's finger hooked under her chin, tilting her head to meet his intense gaze. She could feel the heat radiating off his athletic body, the scent of his cologne filling her senses. Without hesitation, she leaned in, pressing her soft lips against his in a passionate kiss. Her hands slid up his muscular chest, feeling the firmness beneath his top.

As they kissed, Giselle parted her lips, inviting Kylian's tongue to dance with hers. She moaned softly into his mouth, her body pressing closer to his. When they finally broke apart, she was breathless, her cheeks flushed with desire. "Mmm, you taste good," she purred, her eyes filled with lust.

“Behave, your sisters are here,” Kylian warned as he feverishly nipped at her bottom lip.

Giselle let out a playful giggle, her heart fluttering with excitement. "What if I don't want to behave?" she teased, her gaze locking onto his with a mix of mischief and longing. The thrill of sneaking away from the crowd only heightened the electric tension between them.

Kylian's smirk widened as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against her ear. "Then you will be dealt with accordingly when we're alone.”

Giselle's breath hitched at Kylian's whispered promise, her body trembling with anticipation. She knew exactly what he meant by "dealt with," and the thought sent a rush of heat between her legs. She bit her lip, trying to regain some composure, but it was useless. Kylian had her completely under his spell.

"Mmm, I can't wait," she breathed, her voice low and husky. She glanced over at her sisters, who were engrossed in the game, before turning back to Kylian with a wicked grin. "But for now, let's enjoy the moment."

Kylian nodded, his eyes never leaving hers as he led her back to their seats. He draped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close to his side. Giselle leaned into him, savoring the feeling of his strong arm wrapped around her.

The closeness of Giselle and Kylian’s bodies captured the attention of her older sisters, in the same way they had at her magazine event.

Although neither woman spoke their thoughts, they were both of a similar nature. They had both witnessed their sister in previous relationships, they'd voiced their opinions, given advice, and dried her tears, but there was something about Kylian that set off a different kind of alarm.

They were two people so obviously in love with one another, their chemistry palpable, and raw.

Despite the playful low murmurs chorused with giggles that came from them, there was a seriousness to their connection, an unwavering understanding between the two.

“You know, I assumed her absence was because she's seeing someone new, but I didn't think it was this deep,” Tabitha revealed, her voice low as she leaned into her sister.

“Do you think this is the one?” Ayesha whispered back with widened eyes and a smirk tugging on the corners of her lips.

Tabitha raised her eyebrow, glancing at Giselle and Kylian, who were now engaged in a private conversation, their heads leaned in close together. “This isn’t like her,” she said, tilting her head. “Giselle typically plays it safe, or at least she was after Jalen. It’s like she’s a different person with him.”

“Maybe it’s a good thing,” Tabitha suggested a hint of skepticism in her tone. “But also, doesn’t it worry you? We’ve seen her fall hard before.”

“I know,” Ayesha sighed, her gaze softening as she studied her sister's blissful expression. “But look at her. She’s glowing. Kylian seems different. It's like he sees her, you know? Like he respects her.”

“I see it, but I can't help but keep my guard up,” Tabitha replied, crossing her arms with a mix of protectiveness and admiration. “She deserves to be treated right.”

Just then, Giselle and Kylian shared another secret smile that lit up their faces, and both sisters couldn't help but feel the connection between them intensify the atmosphere in the room. It was more than just attraction—it was like a magnetic pull that drew them closer together.

“Okay,” Ayesha relented, biting her lip as she watched. “I’ll give him this chance. But I’m keeping an eye on him.”

“Same here,” Tabitha nodded, her protective instincts kicking in. “We should look out for her, but something tells me she's safe with him.”

As the halftime show came to an end and the game resumed, Kylian remained in the private box with Giselle and her sisters.

The game was intense between the Celtics and The Knick, and in the third quarter, Celtic's frontman Jayson Tatum went down with an injury that saw him carried off the court.

As an athlete, Kylian empathized deeply and by the end of the game both New York walked away with the win, bettering their chances of advancing in the Eastern Conference.

When the game was over, the Knicks in high spirits invited Kylian onto the court which naturally attracted the attention of media outlets that lingered courtside.

Giselle waited courtside with her sisters, the actress and model attracting her attention as she engaged in a conversation with a few journalists who were eager to capture the moment. Cameras flashed as they snapped photos, and Giselle couldn’t help but feel a mix of emotions.

Aside from the people closest to them, the world was none the wiser to Giselle’s relationship with one of modern football's brightest stars.

It wasn't a secret nor were they hiding one another, but they were both aware of just how messy things could get as two people who lived their lives in the public eye, albeit Kylian's level of celebrity far outweighed Giselle’s.

Giselle stood at the edge of the court, her heart racing as she caught glimpses of Kylian surrounded by journalists as if he were part of The Knicks’ roster. The atmosphere was electric, filled with excitement and the vibration of cheering fans as she waited with her sisters.

“For such a humble guy, he is a big deal,” Tabitha commented, a hint of awe in her voice as she watched Kylian engage effortlessly with reporters, his charisma shining through.

Ayesha smirked, “He’s stealing the spotlight.” She nudged Giselle playfully.

“He is,” she agreed as they slowly began to make their way out of the arena, heading towards the parking garage so they could be driven over to their next destination.

The Italian restaurant that Kylian had rented out for the remainder of the evening was one that Giselle had expressed to him once in a random conversation and was one of her favorites in the world.

A fact that she couldn't help but notice upon him telling her their plans for the evening.

As they walked through the parking garage, Giselle couldn't contain the smile on her face. She loved the excitement and buzz that filled the air after a thrilling game, but even more, she adored the thoughtfulness Kylian had shown in planning the evening.

“Kylian went all out, didn’t he?” she mused aloud, glancing at her sisters who walked beside her. “I can’t believe he rented out a whole restaurant just for us.”

Tabitha grinned, “Well, he seems to like you. I mean, come on.”

Giselle smiled, a warmth flooding her chest. “He’s different, and I appreciate how much he cares.”

As they reached the car, another sleek black SUV pulled up, and Kylian stepped out, his figure leaving a striking silhouette against the backdrop of the parking garage. He looked effortlessly handsome, dressed casually in jeans, a T-shirt, and a jacket that accentuated his physique and gave him an air of sophistication.

“Hey, beautiful,” he said, his eyes lighting up when he spotted Giselle. He approached her, his expression softening as he leaned down to steal a quick kiss, planting butterflies in her stomach.

Giselle felt her heart flutter as Kylian's lips met hers, the brief kiss sending a jolt of electricity through her body. She could get used to this, to being greeted by him like this every time they met. As they pulled apart, she couldn't help but smile, her eyes sparkling with happiness.

"You’re doing amazing tonight," she said, referencing the effort he’d put into the evening. "My sisters are impressed."

Kylian grinned, his ego slightly inflated by her praise. "Just doing my job," he replied with a wink, before looking past her to where her sisters stood. "But enough about me. Are you ladies ready for dinner?"

Tabitha and Ayesha nodded enthusiastically, both already won over by their sister's boyfriend who had gone above and beyond to accommodate them.

Kylian led the group to the waiting SUV, holding the door open for Giselle and her sisters to climb in before sliding in beside Giselle. As the vehicle pulled away from the curb, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close.

"So, what did you think of the game?" he asked, his gaze flicking between Giselle and the passing cityscape outside the window.

"It was intense," Giselle replied, leaning into his touch. "I'm glad the Knicks pulled off the win."

"Me too," Kylian agreed, his thumb absently tracing circles on her shoulder. "Tatum's injury was a shame, though. He's a great player."

Giselle nodded, "It was, but at least he'll recover and be back stronger."

As they continued their conversations, the SUV arrived at the restaurant, a charming Italian establishment tucked away in a quiet side street. The driver opened the door, and Kylian stepped out, offering his hand to Giselle to help her down.

"After you, ladies," he said, gesturing for Tabitha and Ayesha to exit as well.

The restaurant's owner greeted them warmly at the entrance, leading them inside to a beautifully decorated private dining room. The table was set with elegant china, sparkling crystal glasses, and flickering candles, casting a warm glow over the space.

"Wow, Kylian," Giselle breathed, taking in the romantic atmosphere. "This is amazing."

Kylian smiled, pleased with her reaction. "Only the best for you and your family," he said, pulling out a chair for her.

As Giselle sat down, Kylian took his place beside her, his hand finding hers beneath the table. The soft touch sent a shiver down her spine, and she glanced at him with a smile. The intimate gesture wasn't lost on Tabitha and Ayesha, who exchanged knowing looks across the table.

"So, Kylian," Tabitha began, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. "Giselle's told us a bit about your football career, but we'd love to hear more. What's it like being one of the world's top players?"

Kylian chuckled, squeezing Giselle's hand gently. "It's a lot of hard work, but also incredibly rewarding.”

Kylian leaned back in his chair, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled. "Hard work, indeed. The hours are long, and the pressure is always there, but I love every minute of it. There's nothing quite like the feeling of scoring a goal, knowing that you've just brought joy to fans."

He paused, taking a sip of his water before continuing. "And the camaraderie with my teammates is unbeatable. We're like a family, on and off the field."

Ayesha nodded, impressed with the man say before her. "That's amazing. And Giselle, you must be so proud of him," she said, turning to her sister with a grin.

Giselle beamed, her eyes shining with admiration. "I am," she replied, her voice filled with warmth. "He's not only an incredible athlete, but an amazing man too."

As the conversations flowed, the waiter arrived to take their orders. Kylian ordered a bottle of fine wine to share among the group, his hand never leaving Giselle's beneath the table.

Dinner came and went in a blur of laughter, delicious food, and shared stories. They indulged in plates of rich pasta, fresh salads, and authentic Italian dishes, each bite bringing Giselle closer to feeling at home in Kylian's world. The ease with which they conversed made her heart swell with happiness.

After the main course, Kylian raised his glass to propose a toast. “To new beginnings,” he said, his gaze settling on Giselle, who blushed under his intense stare. “And to the incredible people who make life worth celebrating.”

Giselle felt her chest tighten with emotion, her heart swelling with warmth as they all clinked glasses. “To new beginnings,” she echoed, feeling a sense of belonging wash over her.

As dessert was served—a decadent tiramisu that melted in her mouth—Giselle took the opportunity to glance up at Kylian. He watched her with an expression that was a mix of admiration and affection, and she felt butterflies dance in her stomach.

“Have I mentioned how beautiful you look tonight?” Kylian said softly, his voice low enough for only her to hear.

Giselle looked down at her plate, a shy smile spreading across her face. “You might have mentioned it once or twice,” she teased, meeting his gaze.

“I mean it,” he insisted, leaning closer. “I’m grateful to be spending this evening with you.”

Just then, Tabitha and Ayesha exchanged glances, raising their eyebrows at their exchange. “Okay, we can see the lovebirds are in their own world,” Tabitha teased, shaking her head in mock disapproval.

Kylian chuckled, and Giselle's laughter joined his, the playful banter making the moment even more enjoyable.

As the night wore on, the atmosphere grew more relaxed, and the conversation flowed easily, touching on everything from dreams and aspirations to silly childhood memories. Giselle's sisters shared their own embarrassing stories, creating a comfortable and warm ambiance where laughter echoed throughout the restaurant.

When dessert was finished, Kylian signaled for the check and turned to Giselle. “I’ve really enjoyed tonight,” he said, his expression sincere. “It’s been nice having your sisters around. They’re wonderful.”

Giselle nodded, her heart full. “They are. I’m glad you got to meet them. I think they like you,” she teased, a playful glint in her eyes.

“I hope so. It means a lot to me,” Kylian replied as they stood to leave. He placed his hand on the small of her back, guiding her toward the exit.

Outside, the Manhattan night enveloped them in a cool embrace, but the warmth between them ignited once more. Kylian opened the car door for Giselle before slipping in beside her. As the driver began to pull away, Giselle thought about how perfect the evening had turned out to be.

“Thank you for everything tonight. You really know how to make a girl feel special,” she said, turning to Kylian, her eyes sparkling in the soft glow of the streetlights.

“It’s my pleasure,” Kylian replied, his voice low and earnest. “I want to treat you the way you deserve to be treated.”

As they drove through the bustling streets of New York City, Giselle leaned her head against Kylian’s shoulder, feeling a sense of peace envelop her. The warmth of their connection wrapped around her like a comforting blanket.

When they finally arrived back at the hotel, Kylian turned to Giselle, his expression serious yet tender. “I'm going to accompany your sisters to their rooms and meet you back in ours,” he explained, his eyes filled with lust and desire as they traced over her.

The day had been long and Kylian had spent most of it fantasizing about finally getting his hands on her.

Giselle felt her heart race at the thought of being alone with him again, her body tingling with anticipation. “Okay,” she replied, biting her lip as she stepped out of the car. “I’ll be waiting for you.”

Kylian smiled, his eyes darkening with desire as he leaned in closer. “Just a few minutes, and I promise I’m all yours,” he whispered, brushing his lips softly against her ear before pulling away.

As he walked away to join her sisters, Giselle took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. She felt exhilarated, knowing that their connection had deepened throughout the evening. The way Kylian looked at her, the little moments they shared, made her heart swell with affection.

Giselle made her way to their hotel suite, her mind racing with thoughts of what was to come. She felt a mix of excitement and nerves fluttering in her stomach. She wanted to savor every moment with Kylian, to explore the depths of their feelings together.

Once inside the suite, she took a moment to freshen up, glancing at her reflection in the mirror. Her cheeks were still flushed from the evening, her hair slightly tousled, and she couldn’t help but smile at the thought of Kylian’s adoring gaze.

After a quick touch-up, she slipped into a comfortable yet alluring outfit—a silk robe that accentuated her curves and covered her make body beneath. It felt luxurious against her skin, and she could only hope Kylian would appreciate it as much as she did.

The minutes felt like hours as she waited for him to return, her heart racing with anticipation. Finally, she heard the soft knock at the door, and her breath hitched in her throat.

“Come in,” she called.

The door swung open, and Kylian stepped inside, his eyes immediately locking onto Giselle. The moment he laid eyes on her, his breath hitched in his throat. The sight of her in that silk robe, her hair cascading over her shoulders, took his breath away.

“Wow,” he breathed, his voice laced with desire. “You look stunning.”

Giselle felt her cheeks flush at his words, a warm rush of confidence washing over her. “Thank you,” she replied shyly, biting her lip as she took a small step closer to him untying the rope of her robe as Kylian's eyes widened as he registered the movement, his heart racing as he absorbed the sight of her beneath the fabric. The way she looked at him, the confidence radiating from her, was intoxicating.

"I want to make love to you," he declared, his voice thick with desire as he stepped closer, closing the distance between them.

“I want that too,” Giselle whispered, her voice barely above a breath as she stepped closer to him, the space between them charged with palpable tension. She could see the desire flickering in his eyes, and it set her heart racing even faster.

Kylian reached out, his fingers brushing against her cheek as he leaned down, capturing her lips in a searing kiss. It was a kiss that spoke of longing and need, a promise of what was to come. Giselle melted into him, her body responding instinctively as she opened up to him, deepening the kiss.

His hands found her waist, pulling her closer as if he were afraid she might slip away. Every kiss ignited a fire within her, every touch made her ache for him more. She could feel the warmth radiating off his body, the strength of him enveloping her entirely.

As they kissed, Kylian's hands roamed over her back, pulling her even closer, and she could feel the heat building between them. "You have no idea how long I've wanted this," he murmured against her lips, his breath warm and inviting.

Giselle's heart raced at his words, the intensity of his gaze igniting a thrill within her. "Show me.”

Kylian's eyes darkened with desire at her words, a low growl rumbling in his chest. "With pleasure," he murmured, his hands sliding down to grip her hips firmly.

He walked her backwards until her legs hit the edge of the bed, then gently pushed her down onto the plush mattress. Giselle's heart pounded as she watched him, her breath coming in short gasps. Kylian stood over her, his gaze roaming over her body hungrily.

Slowly, deliberately, he slipped off his shirt, revealing his muscular chest inch by inch. Giselle's mouth went dry at the sight, her eyes widening as she took in the definition of his abs, the tautness of his pecs. He shrugged off the shirt completely, letting it fall to the floor.

Kneeling on the bed, he crawled over her, his hands trailing up her legs, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

His fingers hooked into the waistband of her silk robe, slowly pulling it open to expose her bare skin beneath. Kylian's breath caught in his throat as he took in the sight of her, his eyes darkening with lust. "I love this perfect little body," he murmured, his voice husky with desire.

He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her collarbone, then another to the valley between her breasts. Giselle arched into his touch, her fingers threading through his hair as he explored her body with his lips and tongue.

Kylian's hand slid up her thigh, his touch featherlight as he teased her inner leg. Giselle's breath hitched, her hips lifting off the bed instinctively. He smiled against her skin, knowing he was driving her wild with anticipation.

His fingers found her center, and he groaned at the warmth and wetness he encountered. "You're always so ready for me," he murmured, circling her clit with his thumb as he slipped a finger inside her.

Giselle gasped at the sudden intrusion, her inner walls clamping down around his finger. Kylian's eyes flashed with satisfaction as he began to move, pumping his finger in and out of her slow and steady. His thumb continued to work her clit, the dual stimulation driving her closer and closer to the edge.

"Kylian," she panted, her hips bucking against his hand. "I need more. Please."

He growled low in his throat, adding a second finger and curling them inside her. The sensation was incredible, and Giselle felt herself spiraling towards release. Just as she was about to crest the peak, Kylian pulled his hand away, leaving her bereft and aching.

"No baby," she cried, her eyes flying open to meet his gaze. "Please don't stop."

"I'm going to be inside you when you come," he explained, his voice strained with his own need.

He quickly shed the rest of his clothes, revealing his impressive erection. Giselle's eyes widened at the sight, a mix of anticipation and slight apprehension fluttering in her stomach. Kylian noticed her gaze and smiled reassuringly.

"I'll be gentle," he promised, positioning himself between her thighs.

He leaned down to kiss her deeply as he guided himself to her entrance. Giselle wrapped her legs around his waist, tilting her hips to welcome him in. With a slow, steady push, Kylian entered her, groaning at the incredible feeling of her tight heat enveloping him.

They both stilled for a moment, adjusting to the sensation. Giselle's nails dug into his back as she reveled in the feeling of fullness. Kylian kissed her softly, giving her time to acclimate before he began to move.

He started with slow, deliberate thrusts, pulling almost all the way out before sliding back in to the hilt, a soft squelch present with each flex of his hips.

“Baby,” Giselle gasped. “You feel so good,” the roll of her hips matching the snap of his.

Kylian's pace quickened, his hips snapping forward with increasing urgency. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, punctuated by their ragged breaths and soft moans.

"Fuck, Giselle," he grunted, his face buried in the crook of her neck. "You're so tight. So fucking perfect."

His words sent shivers down her spine, fueling the fire building low in her belly. Giselle's legs tightened around his waist, urging him deeper, harder. Kylian obliged, his thrusts becoming more powerful, more demanding.

The bed creaked beneath them, the headboard slamming against the wall with each forceful drive of his hips. Giselle's fingers raked down his back, leaving red welts in their wake.

Giselle's cries grew louder, more desperate, as Kylian's pace became relentless. The pleasure was overwhelming, consuming her entire being. She could feel her climax building, the coil in her belly tightening with each thrust.

"Yes, Kylian! Just like that," she screamed, her nails digging into his shoulders. "I'm gonna come!"

At her words, Kylian redoubled his efforts, his hips pistoning wildly. He could feel her inner muscles fluttering around his shaft, signaling her impending release.

“Tell me you love me, Giselle,” he growled. “Tell me you love me the way I love you.”

Giselle's eyes flew open, locking onto Kylian's intense gaze. His words hung in the air between them, a desperate plea and a demand all in one. She could feel her orgasm crashing over her, her body convulsing with the force of it.

"I love you!" she screamed, her voice hoarse from the intensity of her release. "I love you so fucking much!"

Kylian's own climax hit him like a freight train at her confession. He threw his head back, a guttural roar tearing from his throat as he spilled himself deep inside her. His hips jerked erratically, prolonging both their pleasure.

They collapsed together, a tangle of limbs and sweatsoaked skin. Kylian rolled to the side, pulling Giselle with him so she was draped across his chest. They lay there, panting and trembling in the aftermath of their lovemaking.

“I love you,” he murmured as his lips found hers, his body melting on top of Giselle as he lost himself in her, yet again.

Giselle's heart swelled at his words, her cheeks flushing with warmth as she nestled closer against him. "I love you too, Kylian," she whispered, feeling the weight of their shared confession settle comfortably between them. It was a moment she had dreamed of, and now that it was real, it felt surreal.

Kylian smiled, a look of pure contentment on his face as he brushed a stray strand of hair away from her forehead. "I want to be there for you, in every way," he said softly. "You have no idea how much you mean to me."

Giselle's heart raced at the sincerity in his voice. "You mean everything to me too," she replied, her fingers tracing patterns over his chest. "I never expected to feel this way, but you make it so easy."

Kylian chuckled, his eyes sparkling with affection. "I guess we were both caught off guard that night in Paris, huh?"

"Definitely," Giselle agreed, biting her lip as she gazed up at him. “But I wouldn’t change a thing.”

[druidwolf21]

Prey drive

Leman russ/ reader

A playful joke turns into something darker

Or

A reminder that primarchs aren't quite human

(not proof read as always)

Tw: predator/prey dynamic, mild threat, sexual content,very fluffy ending

Tags:Tags: @beckyninja @moodymisty @thisuserislilsilly @jaghatai-khock @echo-of-damnation @laura-naruto-fan1998 @lemon-russ @astrohymn @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan @incrediblethirst @kit-williams @iluminatka16 @cosmic-cryptid-from-beyond @absynthe-mind

Thick coarse hair tickled your nose as you buried yourself among the pile of heavy furs, Grey and auburn strands rubbing against your skin as you slid beneath the huge oaken bedframe.

Muffling your laugh, you shuffled until you were completely enveloped under the tanned hides. The sound of approaching feet grew louder until your chamber door was thrown open with a loud bang. You clasped your hand over your mouth, a fit of silent giggles wracking your body as a pair of leather boots appear next to you, still splattered with mud and melting snow.

"Little wolf? I know you are here"

You watched as the boots slowly stepped around the bed, the floor groaning under each heavy footfall as they paced. A sharp inhale of air, and then the voice chuckled.

"Do you think you are clever? Your scent is still fresh, feilan"

A shiver ran through as he spoke. Deep and rich, the fenrisian drawl added a roughened edge to his words as Leman Russ stalked around the bed.

"Hiding from me is not a wise move"

With a squeal, large hands grabbed your ankles and hauled you out from your cover, dragging you along the cool floor.

"Not when I enjoy the hunt"

You kicked out, his fingers falling away from you with unexpected ease as you scrambled to your feet and shot off, rolling over the bed and landing on the other side as you spun to face him.

"How was your venture, my lord" you asked innocently, biting back your laughter as you watched him cock his head, his icy blue eyes trained on you.

"It went very well. we killed the beast with ease, as expected" he hummed. You could see tension in his body, even beneath the leather shirt and thick fur coat. His hands clenching and unclenching into fists as he stepped towards you only to pause as you matched his movement and stepped back.

"This is not a game you want to play, little wolf"

A shiver racked up your spine as he spoke, his voice dangerously low, almost a threat. The adrenaline from his hunt was still pumping through his taught muscle as he took another step forward, growling softly as, once again you stepped away.

"And why not?" You questioned, feigning boredom as you tugged at a loose string on your tunic, enjoying the rumble that emanated from the wolf kings chest.

"I won't be able to hold back"

He raised his hand in a calming motion as he saw your eyes dart to the open door and back to him.

"Don't. Run." He warned, chest heaving in massive breaths as he fought to maintain control.

Too late

Flashing a bright grin you leapt forward, ducking under his arm as you sprinted out the door and down the stone hall of the fang. The hair on your neck prickled as the primarch snarled, his thundering steps quickly gaining. Eyes darting back and forward you skidded round a corner, feeling his fingers brush against your shoulder as you slid into a serf access corridor, too small for an Astartes, let alone the mass of muscle and sinew that made up a primarch.

You turned on your heels, a shout of triumph on your lips to goad your hunter.

"What's wrong, Leman, can't you catc-"

You fell back with a shriek as leman slammed into the wall. Roaring, he reached him arm into the shaft, clawing towards you as his other hand ripped into the wall, tearing cement and brick away in his fervour. His eyes dark and long canines bared as his fingers brushed your cheek, desperately aching to catch his prey.

Wet heat trickled down your face from the contact, a thin red ichor that spurred him on. Your nerves were on fire, blood rushing through your veins as your body screamed at you to run. Run fast and far, get away before he catches you.

You stumbled further away from the entrance, trying to slow your heartbeat. The great wolf howled as you stepped beyond his grasp, before eyeing the service shaft and bolting away.

Crap

The aett was his home, he knew this place better than he knew himself.

Your eyes wandered to the clawed gouges in the wall. Deep and ragged, he had shattered stone and rendered metal apart in his outrage. Wiping away the blood from your cheek with a shuddering breath you took off, weaving through the tunnels until your lungs burned from the exertion, only stopping when you found a small door of rusted steel propped open by a forgetful serf.

Peering out you eyed up your next escape.

The corridor had led you to the main hall of the fang. Beneath giant, sloping ceilings a warm, stoked fire burned hot and high in the ancient carved fireplace. A few space wolves lounged on great oaken benches, nursing flagons of potent mjord as they relaxed in the warmth, some still splattered with blood from their earlier hunt or displaying new scars to their brothers.

You stepped through the door, cringing as the hinges squeaked and groaned under the movement. Wincing you looked about, feeling the heavy weighted stare of the space wolves all turn to you.

"What are you doing here so late, My lady" one drawls through a fanged grin. "Come to celebrate our success?" He brothers laugh, raising their drinks in a toast.

"Maybe later, lieutenant Halric. Im a little preoccupied right now"

Halric's amber eyes lingered on the trickle of red slowly weaving down your face, His smile widening as a young blood claw scented the air before whispering in his ear.

"Aaah I see. Trying to outrun the wolf are you, little rabbit?"

You grinned back, a biting response on your tongue to put the Astartes back in his place.

Boom

The pack hollered and howled as Leman Russ barrelled into the hall through the main doors, nostrils flared and mouth pulled back in a snarl as he casts his gaze about. The frozen winds of fenris whipping his hair about him as he lumbers in from outside, snow already melting from his broad shoulders.

"There you are"

"Run My lady!" Halric crowed as the primarch sprinted towards you, fueled by his son's cheers.

Your legs start moving before you realise, pushed forward by adrenaline as the mountain of fang and muscle gallops towards you.

Thoughts a tumbling mess as your blood hammered in your ear, you found yourself backed into a corner. The hall fell silent as Russ stepped up to you, tension thick in the air as he swept a finger through the bloody streak on your face, rubbing it between his fore finger and thumb as he looked down at you silently.

"Game over, little one" he grumbled, pupils still blown and fingers curled as he ran his bloodied fingers across his lip. Your chest was tight, muscles aching and your vision blurred as you stood in his shadow.

He wouldn't hurt you

Would never hurt you.

But the familiar look in his eye was gone, replaced by raw instinct.

And every fibre of your body was screaming at you, begging you to get away.

Dropping, you scrambled between his legs and tumbled towards the open door, ignoring the concerned shout of the space wolves as you vanished into the fenrisian forest.

"Skitja" A young blooded rose to his feet, cussing as you vanish whilst his father stood watching.

"Stay out of it" growled his brother, forcing him to his seat as he gestured at their father. "This isn't your hunt." The Bloodclaw glanced between the primarch and the door, staring as your figure dissolved into the white flurry.

"She could get lost out there" he huffed, looking about the astartes.

Halric laughed, clapping the young warrior on the shoulder as he climbed to his feet, his flagon held high to his primarch.

"Øjor va Russ!'" he bellowed, the pack chanting with him, slamming their fists on the table. "Glory to Russ!"

With a deep, bellowing laugh, Russ ran after you, your scent fresh in his mind as he inhaled the fridged wind. The thrill of the hunt pushing him forward through the night as he picked up your trail.

"If you want to get between father and his prey, be my guest" the lieutenant groaned, returning to his seat and swiping another mug from the tabletop as his lord vanished into the night.

"But trust me, she's only as lost as he wants her to be"

You clutched your tunic to your body, the steel blue wool whipping against your skin in the storm. The lining of warm wolf fur kept the worst of the cold at bay, but couldn't stop it biting at your fingers and nipping your face.

Darkness was settling in quickly around you as the sun began to sink below the horizon. The snow was cold against your legs and ice cling to you as you sprinted through the thickening treeline.

The air burned your lungs with each clouded breath as you slowed, turning about in confusion. The warm light of the Aett was lost, hidden behind thick, snow laden boughs of arching trees, leaving you surrounded by darkening shadows.

Crystal flakes danced in the air, spinning slowly as a new fear crept in.

Lost in the quiet forest of the frozen death world.

Crack

You jumped at the sound as it splintered the silence. The darkness between the trees offering no respite as you peered through the gnarled trunks for the sound source.

"Leman! I know you're out there" you barked, the quiver in your voice betraying you as you tried to straighten yourself against the bitter wind. Nerves frayed and your anxiety at its peak, you flinched at the rolling laugh that echoed from the depths of the woods.

"I warned you little wolf, that you wouldn't like this game"

"I promise I won't run" you gasp backing up against a twisted oak and pressing yourself against its coarse bark in a pitiful attempt of cover.

The wet crunch of fallen pine needles beneath heavy boots had you spinning, ears straining and eye wide as you desperately searched the undergrowth and recoiling as a pair of bright, moonlit eyes appeared through the cover.

"Oh? But I rather like it when you do"

A spray of wet slurry kicked around you as you balked, caving into intuitive pressure as Leman tore free from the underbrush.

Too slow

His bruising grip clutched at your shoulder and with a strangled shriek, you were wretched backwards, slamming into his solid frame, clawing at his forearm in mad panic as he held you against him.

With a triumphant yell, the Primarch flipped you onto your back, towering over you as you shuddered. A large calloused hand rested either side of your hips as he looked down at you, his wide blue eyes trailing over your frame as he bared his canines as a large smile spread across his face.

Laying stunned beneath him, listening to the bellow of his lungs as his breath began to even out, you watched as he slowly clawed back control of himself. His iris' still swamped by his pupils as his gaze flicked over your face, lingering on the cut furrowed through your cheek.

"You scared the shit out of me" you whispered, heart still pounding as you tentatively reaching for his face. His jaw tensed when you ran your fingers through his stubble, before relaxing under your touch.

"I know" he muttered, sweeping his thumb across your cheek.

Russ leant down, pressing his face against your neck and inhaling your scent.

"I couldn't help it" he whispered against you skin as his hands moved to grip your waist, kneading into the soft plush of your hip.

You sighed as his lips moved across your throat. Titling your head, you ran your hands through his blonde hair, tangling in a braid as you pulled him towards you. He chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of your jaw.

"But I think you enjoyed it"

The primarch's breath was hot on your skin as his hand danced across the waistband of your trousers, now soaked with melting snow. You felt his lips curl in a smirk as he snuck below the fabric, sliding towards your core.

"I could hear your heart beating" he muttered as he ran a finger through your growing slick, coating the digit before pressing it softly against your clit. "Like a frightened little rabbit"

You crooned at the touch, arching your back towards him as he rubbed circles across your sensitive bud.

"And look at you now"

His lips crashed into yours as you writhed under his touch. He tasted wild and fresh, smoke, spice and pine overwhelming you as he ran his tongue across your lips before pushing in to taste you. You moaned into the kiss as he slid a finger inside your cunt, curling against the soft spot that made your eyes roll whilst his thumb rubbed against your clit.

"L-eman" you gasped, clawing at his shoulders as his mouth suckled against your collar, nipping and marring the skin. "Fuck I'm gonna-"

You cried out as you came, your legs shaking as Russ kept stroking your walls through your orgasm. You fell back panting as the wolf wretched the furs over his head and tossed them to the snow before ripping your tunic away. Your fingers tangled through his blonde locks as he wretched down your trousers and mouthed at your wet cunt, lapping at your slick as his calloused palms held your legs open.

"Too much" you whined, tugging on his hair as you twitched.

"We eat what we catch on Fenris" he growled, his nose brushing your overworked clit as he devoured you,

"Please, leman I cant~"

You sobbed as his tongue lathed over the pussy, thrusting into your soaked hole before twisting around your nub, building you back towards a crescendo. Russ grinned against your skin, nipping your thigh as he wrung another orgasm from your shaking body.

Leman leaned back on his knees, admiring his work as you shuddered and gasped before tugging down his own trousers. Palming his length, he leant over you again, nudging his leaking tip against your entrance.

"I've earned my prize, don't you think"

Sparks danced behind your eyelids at his size as he pushed forward, laying his hips flush to yours in one smooth movement. Your walls burned with excursion at his girth as he stretched you around his cock, your muscles twitching as they adjusted.

"Pretty little cunt takes me so well" he crooned,stroking your hips as he pulled your ass against his thighs, your legs resting against his scarred abs. With excruciating slowness he dragged himself out of your pussy, before thrusting the full length back in. You arched against the floor as he rutted into you, dragging his tip against your g spot with each luxurious clash of his hips against yours.

He leant forward, pushing you ankles by your ears. With mouth gaping open, breathy moans fell from your lips as your walls fluttered around him, squeezing his cock. You smirked slightly as he growled in fenrisian, his teeth grazing your neck as you clenched around him.

"Do you like that, my wolf" you breathed, dragging your nails down his shoulders as you clenched around him again.

"Do you like claiming this little Cunt as your prize"

With a snarl, Russ flipped you over, pushing your face down his fur coat as he held your hips in the air before slamming back in.

"I think I do" he rumbled in your ear, marking your shoulder as he fucked into you. Tears flowed freely as you, staining the bristly fur as pleasure clouded your mind.

"And I think you like knowing that my whole pack knows what I do to you, woman"

"Fuck Leman" you cried, reaching back to claw at your thigh as you knot in your gut snapped. You threw your head back as you choked, your orgasm ripping through your body.

"Like a bitch in heat" the wolf huffed, his own thrusts becoming irregular. You flushed at his words, the wet sound of your cum squelching around his member loud in your ears.

You bit your lip and crushed your eyes shut, fighting for control of your body as it turned to mush beneath his touch. His fingers dancex across every sensitive nerve and tender muscle sending ripples of pleasure through you.

"please" you whimpered.

With a broken groan leman came, pushing himself deep inside your dripping cunt as he filled you with hot spend. His hips jerked as he twitched, shooting hot ropes against your fluttering walls, spoiling out around him and dripping into the melting snow below.

As he pulled out, you collapsed onto the fur coat, groaning as you began to feel the ache. He chuckled lowly as he ran a warm, calloused hand down your back towards your ass, spreading you apart as he watched his spend drip from between your legs.

"Now that's a pretty sight" he rumbled, patting your backside before rising to his feet.

You remained silent as he gathered you in his arms, pulling you close to his bare chest. Pressing your head against the soft hair of his pec, you listened to the rhythm of his dual hearts as they echoed through his muscled chest. Absentmindedly running your hand along the map of scars along his breast you looked up to find him watching you, startling softness in his expression.

"What?"

He shook his head, clutching you close as he strode through the dark forest. His lungs sounded like billows through his ribs as he powered through the glittering snow, the light of the fang already in view.

"Leman, what?"

His blue eyes remained trained ahead as he responded.

"Just think I should make you a true mother to my sons"

He paused as he approached the doors to the Aett, the space wolves pack already howling as laughing as you approached.

"Marry me"

Your jaw dropped, fingers freezing as he set you on your feet with the heavy wet fur draped over your shoulder. You watched, dumbstruck as he dropped to his knee in front of you, taking your hand and dwarfing it in his own grip.

"Marry me" he said again.

The pack fell silent behind you, a single breath unheard as everyone waited for your response.

"I will"

There are no wolves in Fenris, is how the saying goes. But that night, in the light of a full moon, admit the soft silent fall of fresh snow, the Fang was alive with a thousand howls as the wolves sang for their king.

[theocddiaries]

[In the kitchen, Sonia is tossing random vegetables into a blender. Sonic walks in and stops when he sees what she's doing.] Sonic: …What are you doing? Sonia: Since you refuse to cook anything for us, I’m fending for myself. I made a multivitamin smoothie. Sonic: You’re gonna get multidiarrhea. Sonia: I’m sick of you always criticizing everything I do. Just because I do things differently doesn’t mean I do them wrong! [Sonia turns on the blender. It whirs a couple of times and then dies. Sonic squints at her.] Sonia: …You’re evil. Evil! [runs off] Manic [enters the kitchen]: Bro, what’s for dinner? Sonic: I don’t know, what does the young master want? Manic: I’m good with eggs and fries. Something easy. Sonic: Perfect. [pointing]: Eggs are there. Potatoes over there. Slicer’s there. And that round thing? That’s the frying pan. Bon appétit! [walks out] Manic: You’re still on that whole strike thing?! Sonia [dramatically sobbing off-screen]: He’s eeeviiil! Manic: Don’t worry, sis, we’ll make dinner ourselves! Like it’s hard to fry an egg! [Scene change. Manic is holding a fire extinguisher, pointing it at the frying pan while yelling. Sonia is watching him with a scowl from the table.] Manic [panting]: Damn… So close, right? I think if we scrape off the foam, it might still pass as a fried egg— Sonia: Stop it and leave it alone! Let’s just order pizza. Manic: Chill, I’ll look up some recipes online. Tomorrow I’ll make you one hell of a breakfast. [Next morning, Sonia is standing in front of the coffee pot while Manic tries to bite into a piece of toast.] Manic: Damn, this tastes like cardboard… Sonia: Put some hot sauce on it. Manic: Is the coffee coming out or not? It’s been on the stove forever… You did put water in it, right? Sonia: Water…? Of course I put water, what do you think, that I’m dumb? [Sonia sneakily grabs a bottle from the fridge and starts pouring it into the coffee pot. Sonic enters, unlocks a cabinet, and pulls out some Tupperware, handing them to Shadow and Tails, who are getting ready to leave.] Sonia: Wait, you made breakfast??? Sonic: Yes. For Tails, who is off to school; for Shadow, who's going to work, and for me, who needs fuel to deal with your nonsense. Shadow: Sonic, can you come to the living room for a second? [Sonic and Shadow step out. Tails enters, grabs a thermos, and stuffs it into his backpack.] Tails: He’s gonna smooch him again. He's therapist material. Manic: Kid, what’s in the thermos? Coffee? Tails: Yup. Manic: Can we have some? Tails: Nope. Manic: Ugh, why not?! Tails: 'Cause I don’t like you. [leaves the kitchen] Sonia: Solid reason. Same reason I wouldn’t share with him either.