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bahrtofane · 2 months

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flics and feelings

your job becomes exponentially harder when jude comes into the picture. Literally.

jude x wc!photographer

Word count : 3.2K+

Watch it : suggestive language, skinny dipping, light angst but happy ending !!

Hope you enjoy <3 !!

—--

You're a sports photographer who's just been added to the list of the england national team. Not just for friendlies no no, you're going to the world cup.

You've done a few things here and there for them during friendlies and public appearances and the hard work has seemed to pay off !

You can't stop smiling and bouncing around from pure joy after you open the email informing you. This is the chance, the opportunity, the place and time to really make a name for yourself and put your foot out there in the market and world.

You truly believe that this is your calling. It does help that the team isn't bad eye candy either. You'd be blind to argue with that. But nonetheless you must stay professional !

—--

Your professionalism goes down the drain thanks to one very hands, flirty, and mouthy Jude Bellingham.

It's his fault really.

It started as nothing more but curiosity to look at the raw pictures you took of him at training. That soon escalated to teasing words, and hands straying away from your camera and to your own.

He had kissed you for the first time after the first game, under the cover of the locker room long after most people had gone. Gently taking your face in his hands and giving your lips a kiss so tender you wonder if it was even real sometimes.

You're playing a risky game now, you know. But his smile is worth every moment. And besides, your boss has been complimenting your shots lately. Calling them a “raw glimpse into the truth of bellingham.” Whatever that means.

To be honest you don't really know where this new found relationship even stands, fleeting or otherwise you don't have the guts to challenge it in fear of losing him too soon.

—--

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep

You groan, stretching meekly to find the source of whatever is ruining your sleep, and in the process elbow Jude in the stomach.

“Ah, sorry baby.” You rasp, trying to rub the sleep out of your eyes.

He stifles a groan, looking up at you meekly. “ ‘S okay, just ‘m alarm,'' Flopping back into his face dramatically.

You sigh, lying back down. That means you also have to get up and ready soon. The suns not even out yet but you have to be ? Unbelievable, truly.

You spend the little time you have scrolling through social media and answering emails while Jude sleeps soundly next to you as cozy as ever.

When his second alarm goes off, you give him gentle kisses to the tips of his cheeks and nose to help him wake up. But all you get is him dragging you back down into the covers with him.

'Little more..” He babbles hanging into you and any covers he can reach.

You flick his arm gently, “We have to get going, especially you, don't want Saka beating you out there again?”

He gets up at this and narrows his eyes at you, “I think you've taken a fancy to him more than me now.”

You chuckle, “Uh huh, sure. It's his bed I'm in right now right ?’

He opens his mouth to argue but settles for getting out of bed and sulking to the bathroom.

You take this as a sign to get ready yourself. Getting dressed and making a metal note for the equipment you'll need to grab from your own room.

Jude walks out of the bathroom toothbrush hanging from his mouth and motions for your turn, giving your hip a little squeeze as you walk by.

He's all dressed, save for the toothbrush, by the time you walk out. Ducking back into the bathroom when you're done. You take a moment to appreciate him, so pretty.

“You look good.” You smile.

“Thank you love,” He leans in to give you a quick peck, “ i'll see you later yeah?”

You nod watching him leave.

—--

You come back to find him nowhere to be seen, but you have more than enough pictures to make the whole photo team happy for a year. You spend the rest of the night editing them and sending them off to your list of clientele. Mainly online papers and twitter if you're being honest, but hey it gets the job done and keeps you fed.

You wonder just how far England will go, just how long you can pretend to have Jude in these fleeting moments you share thousands of miles away from home.

The door opens as you're knee deep in emails to reveal one very bouncy Jude.

“What's got you in such a good mood ?”

“You.” He grins.

“Is that so?”

“Mhm , you looked really good today.”

“Oh please, all I was doing was crouching on the side lines and sweating.”

“And yet you looked so hot doing it.” he pokes your side.

You roll your eyes and him, swatting his hand away and turning your focus back to emails on emails on emails. He plops himself down next to you, kicking his shoes off and wiggling dramatically.

“I wanna show you something when you're done.” He blurts.

That's all the motivation you need to speed through all your work for tonight.

He takes your hand in his, against your harsh whispers that someone might see, he doesn't care one bit. Only dragging you along more dramatically.

He takes you down hallways and loops of the hotel you haven't been able to get to yet, up a short spiral staircase to a single elevator that doubt will fit the both of you. But he makes it work. Pressing you up to his chest and wrapping an arm around your waist.

He's so warm, radiating more heat than a damn fireplace, but it feels nice against the brisk hotel ac. He tilts his head while staring at your lips, and you've come to know exactly what he wants. You give it to him. How could you not.

You bring your faces together, a hand on the back of his neck, to pull him impossibly close to you. He always lets you set the pace, plush lips hesitating before opening enough to meet your tongue.

Too bad the elevator ding interrupts, he's blushing now, you can see and feel the heat radiating from his face as he hastily pulls away.

But he still finds the courage to pull you out of the tiny elevator gingerly, leading you to what you think is the hotel rooftop. It's gorgeous, honestly. Small patio like area with white couches and chairs facing an electric dome fireplace. A small swimming pool in the far corner overlooking the city, and a blanket layed out in the artificial grass. Pillows, snacks and all.

You’re silent for a moment trying to figure this out, figure him out.

He takes your hand in his, gently leading you to the blanket before you can over think any longer. Letting you sit down and looking at you with too much fondness than you can handle.

“I don't…” You begin.

He only smiles at you, “I wanted to spend time with you. Proper time that's not in my hotel room or behind the locker room.”

You can only stare at him in disbelief. You can't remember the last time anyone let alone a man, and one you were romantically interested in, doing something so sweet for you.

Your voice fails you, as well as basic thinking it seems as you launch yourself at him. Smothering not only Jude but the chips in between you. He only lets out giggles when his back hits the ground, letting you do as you please while rubbing your back.

“Thank you so much, really. It means a lot.” You finally choke out.

He gets up immediately, taking you by the shoulders and staring right at you. “Don't do that. Don't cry. Please.”

Your bottom lip only wobbles harder as you try to hold back the tears, but they come all too soon as you sniffle. “ ‘M not sad. Really happy. You make me happy.” You mumble, head now smushed on his shoulder.

“Hey it's okay, take your time love, we've got all night.”

And all night you do have. By the time your tears have dried Jude makes you try every single snack and little treat he hauled up here.

You notice a pile of towels sitting at the edge of one of the pool chairs and raise an eyebrow, “What are those for?”

“In case, you wanna swim.” He shrugs face full of chewy gummies. Sugar free fat free everything free it seems. Nutritions orders.

“Can we ?” You turn to him expectedly.

“Why not.” He smiles.

You don't take a second longer, taking off your shoes and other accessories. Tip toeing at the edge of the pool before his voice stops you.

“You're gonna swim in those ?”

“Im mean yeah. I didn't bring a change.”

He only shrugs, wiggling out of his own clothes faster than you can stop him. “What are you doing?’ You hiss

“Uh swimming ?”

“Naked ??”

“Not like it's anything you haven't seen before.” He bumps your shoulder with his, giggling.

“You're unbelievable. What if someone sees?”

He shrugs, getting in the pool. “Oh they won't, I got that covered with hotel staff already. No ones gonna bother us up here.”

He turns to you after the water is up to his navel, motioning with a hand for you to join.

Really the problem isn't the situation at hand, skinny dipping seems like great fun really, the problem lies with the man who you're in this predicament with. He's all but invaded your heart and mind at this point. He's just, so, everything you've ever wanted and more. Sweet smiles and even sweeter words, teasing but still kind, always making room for you in his life. During the goddamn world cup of all things. Hard working to his core.

The way he looks at you while you tell him the most mundane things about your day makes your head spin, the care he takes into looking out for you is unmatched by anyone. You are so gone for him

He gives you a concerned look, “You don't have to really it's no pressure we can-”

Fuck it.

You toss your clothes to the side faster than you can change your mind about it and slide your way into the freezing water

“It’s fucking freezing what the hell.“

He only strides closer to you, gently lacing your hands together and pulling you further in, where the water now comes to your collar bones.

“I got you” He murmurs.

You shiver and shake at the water, ”M still cold.”

But he only presses himself impossible close to under the water

“Well, let me warm you up then” He barely whispers while your chests are flush together, his hands on either side of your face.

Gently bringing your lips together once more.

—--

Once the two of you have had more than enough fun trying to drown each other he swaddles you up in big fluffy towels and lays down next to you on the blanket, star gazing.

“See, that one's Orion.” He breathes out into the night air.

You hum, burying your face where a bit of his shoulder peaks from his towel. It's warm okay. When you yawn for the third time in a row does he bring up heading back down.

“You've had a long day, come on.” He nudges your arm.

You give in, groaning, getting up reluctantly and putting your clothes back on. He tidies up while you tussle with your shoes for a second before joining you at the foot of the elevator. The ride down is a comfortable silence and you swing your joined hands while you walk back to your room.

The moment you step into the room do you collapse into the bed, completely drained. He still makes you get up for a quick shower to rinse the chlorine off. Letting you get into bed first while he does the same after.

You're halfway to dreamland when you feel the bed dip and his familiar warmth envelop you. A gentle kiss on the forehead is the last thing you remember before crashing soundly.

—--

Jude won't admit it but he's definitely started favoring your side more often during games. Whenever there's a celebration he always looks over to you. You try not to make it too obvious and just hunker down, shove your camera in your face and think of something odd to keep you from smiling.

Your go to recently has been imagining Klopp with fingers for hair. Bizarre.

It all ends too soon when England gets knocked out by France.

You can see the disappointment and anger in him.

“I really thought we had a chance.” He mumbles into your neck later that night.

“Hey it's okay, what's done is done. No use stressing out on the past when there's so much future in front of you.” You try to comfort him.

He sniffles and shrugs. Not wanting to say more. You're set to leave in a day. Then what ?

He begs you to stay, “Just one more night, please.”

Just one more then, one more and you go back to the redundant life you lived before all of this. Before you even felt him utter bliss on your skin. You wonder what his type really is, what are the people he chooses to truly make his. What kind of lovers would move mountains for and shout sappy poetry from the rooftops just to see them smile.

You suppose you should be happy to even have this kind of encounter. Count your blessings, cant have your cake and eat it, blah blah blah. You want him. Now and forever more.

You don't say any of this, instead choosing to hold his hand gently while he curls up next to you.

—--

The day the team is set to leave you dont see much of him really. You're too busy counting and recounting all your supplies and making sure you have all the right paperwork for the very heavy and very expensive equipment you're about to embark with.

You have about a week before you're off to Italy for some fancy car races on the coast. You're going to mope and sulk in that time you can feel it.

You're making your last trip to give the luggage guy your set when you run into Jude.

“Oh hi, you're leaving already ?”

“Ah no just taking my equipment to the lobby. It always flies before I do.” You try to smile.

He nods, a little solemnly.

“Am I gonna see you at mine later ?’

“Yeah, maybe.”

And with that you take off. You honestly don't expect to ever see him again if not for work. At least this can be a cute story you can tell to friends back home.

—--

Not a cool story at all because you have just realized that you've forgotten your really nice and expensive headphones in his room. Good lord. They were a gift from you to you on your birthday last year when you had a lot of videos to edit and needed to be able to listen to any variation in sound.

You can not buy those again. 1, the money. 2, you're attached.

But good god is it going to be awkward just waltzing in there. Maybe you can just ask room service. No to creepy. Text him ? twice as awkward.

Oh fuck, guess going back up to his room it is.

You feel like some stalker creeping around the halls, even though you've been here plenty of times. Now it feels entirely different. Like youre no longer welcome here. But damn do you need your headphones back.

With a deep breath you knock on the door as friendly as a knock can get, and it opens almost immediately.

“Hi! I'm glad you came.” He beams.

You don't have the heart to tell him it's only for your headphones, you walk in away. Taking a seat at the edge of the bed. You notice everythings been tidied up and organized, there's only his suit cases left standing in the corner.

He joins you not long after, playing with his fingers idly. Waiting for you to say something, anything.

“Is something wrong?” He tries.

“No, no, nothing. Just came to say bye and look for my headphones is all.” You mumble.

He frowns,“There's something up.”

“No.”

“Yes there is. Why else are you acting like you don't know me and you've never been in this room.”

“Because that's what it feels like Jude. We had our little fun and now it's over we go our separate ways.” You have finally reached your tipping point.

He only looks back at you hurt,“Is that what you think this is?”

“Is it not?”

“God no, why would I rent out the roof of this hotel just to stargaze and goof around in the pool with you. Did that mean nothing?”

“It meant everything to me. I told you as much.”

“Then why are you acting like this now?”

“I'm scared. I'm scared when I leave this room and we leave the country. That'll be it. That i’ll never get to have this again.” You whisper.

“Love,” He takes your hand in yours, “I truly want something with you. More than a fling more than a work romance more than whatever you've been thinking of it as. I’ll book a flight to meet you when you land right now if you want. Just say the word.”

“Seriously?”

“Of course. I'm serious. You said it yourself no use stressing over the past when there's so much future. And I want you to be my future. If you'll have me.” He gives you a small smile.

“Of course i'll have you Jude. You're so incredible I can't even put it into words. I want a future that has an us, I want you to be mine as much as I'll be yours.”

This time it's he who rushes to tackle you into the bed, bombarding your face in kisses while you squeak and give soft punches to his arms in a futile attempt to get him off.

He finally does and rushes to fish his laptop out of his suitcase, immediately going to his flight information and adding a connecting flight faster than you've seen most people function.

In the time it takes for him to find his passport you find your headphones, neatly tucked away in the bedside drawer. That makes a lot of sense.

You lean on his shoulder watching the last bit of information go in before he clicks confirm, looking up to smile at you.

“I'll see you when I land in your city then ?”

“Yes you will pretty boy.” You murmur, with one final kiss goodbye. Or more a see you soon kiss.

You walk out of the room not only with your fancy headphones but a lovely man to call your own.

#jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham x reader #jude x reader #jude bellingham #jude x you #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham fluff #football fanfic #footy fic #footballer one shot #footballer fic #bahr footy

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slavicdollie · 4 months

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My bestfriends brother ⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Summary: Things don't go as planned when your close friend invites you to watch the new Johnny Cage movie.

Notes: Post-mk1 story and Bi-hans betrayal never happened. AFAB reader isn't one of earthrealms champions just a cool girl Tomas started to become friends.

Content Warnings:NSFW, dub-con fingerbang, small temperature play ,female masturbation.

Chinese culture was a beautiful sight but she still loathed her father for moving here, leaving behind her old friends and memories. She struggled to learn the language and felt outcasted amongst her peers all but one, a silver haired man named Tomas the same age as her. He knew what it felt like to be different from everyone else. A friendship began to spark between the two of them sharing stories of the past and present. Tomas was a good listener and sometimes she just needed to get things off her chest.

It had taken a lot of convincing to allow her at the fire temple Kuai liang was content with her visiting considering she looked as if she had never fought in her life, she put an end to that assumption when showing off her meteor hammer skills,she had shown interest in martial arts from a young age. Both Kuai Liang and Tomas looked impressed they had never seen a warrior move so beautifully and Tomas was practically drooling.

Bi-han however was not too fond of having a stranger enter their home let alone train with her brothers whilst not being lin kuei.

"I promise I am not a threat Grandmaster I simply enjoy the company of Tomas and practicing how to use my meteor hammer in a professional sense." Tomas felt his heart race at her statement.

Bi-han only grunted a popular gesture of his," You are no lin kuei do not presume to address me as Grandmaster." As he walked away stoicly, she began to admire him his handsome face and hot physique could not go unnoticed.

She became more comfortable around Tomas even making jests about wanting to fuck his brother, "Yeah I'd totally freeze my tongue on Bi-han's flag pole" Tomas laughed awkwardly hiding how uncomfortable he was and he looked almost...hurt?

She found herself becoming more comfortable around the lin kuei trio kuai liang appreciated her fire puns but Bi-han only shot her deathly glares.

"Are you ready to have your mind blown?" Tomas asked with a stupid grin he was excited to be apart of Johnny cage's new movie even if someone else was casted he was interested on how they would portray him. "Didn't know ninjas were allowed TV's" actually Tomas and Johnny had convinced Bi-han to install one.

Tomas and Y/n sat on the soft couch sharing popcorn. Tomas was blushing due to how close her leg were to his,she was wearing a skirt but he knew not to look at it she'd probably think he was some kind pervert and never want to speak to him again. Their faces were glued to the screen until interrupted by a deep voice. "What are you two morons doing?" Tomas jumped at the sound of Bi-hans voice but Y/n just smiled and replied "Watching the movie about you guys, the guy Johnny got to play you really captures your essence" The actor had been grumpy and mascular just like Bi-han.

Bi-han let out an annoyed grunt,"I told Cage our victory is not for entertainment" although he disproved of the movie being made he still wanted to see what the fuss was all about, motioning for Tomas to move up now sitting in the middle, between his adopted brother and his friend who he found to be alluring.

Bi-han removed the popcorn from her lap and gave it to Tomas that may have been the kindest thing Bi-han had done for him yet his only intention was to get a view of Y/N's skirt. It was a black plaid skirt with a pink ribbon around the middle that was above knee length. 'Why is he staring at me' Y/n began to think while Tomas was too focused laughing at the movie. Bi-han stared at her as a predator stared at it's prey. She looked at him for a split second making eye contact only to quickly look down and play with her fingers which was a common thing for her to do when nervous.

This action only annoyed the cryomancer next to her causing him to pull her hands apart placing them on her sides. He turned to look at Tomas seeing him stuck on the screen like a kid at a candy store, Bi-han rolled his eyes and looked back to the girl next to him. He begun rubbing his rough hands on her gentle thighs. His hands were cold she shivered at his touch. He put a lock of her hair behind her ear almost as a way to reassure her everything was going to be okay.

She subconsciously started rocking her hips and he slowly started to put his hand under her skirt reaching her cotton panties. Pushing her panties to the side and entering two fingers in her slit while she parted her legs, turning to look at Tomas who was oblivious to what was going on. The ninja used his cryomancer abilities to form solid ice on his fingertips. She whimpered softly at that, quickly covering her mouth to prevent Tomas from looking over. Bi-han started moving his fingers in and out of her wet pussy. She wanted to moan and tell him to fuck her right now,who cares if Tomas was there. She was a blushing and sweating mess Bi-han wanted to make fun of her for her reaction but did not want to draw attention to it.

Thank the elder gods for the volume of the TV or else Tomas would be hearing the sound of his friend's pussy as she was getting fingerbanged by his older brother. The finger fucking went from slow and gentle to rough and fast tears started to form from the inner corners of her eyes,Bi-han noticed this and wiped them away and started going slower and she tried to keep in her moans with her hand. She was about to cum and accidentally removed her hand from her mouth,"AAAERR THAT WAS A GOOD FIGHT SCENE" she tried to play her orgasm off as a reaction to the film. Bi-han smirked and Tomas only said "I know right!" not judging her reaction. Bi-han grabbed the popcorn bowl from Tomas and giving it to the girl he just dispoiled. His fingers were still covered in her juices she opened her mouth to put the popcorn in her mouth but instead was greeted with bi-hans jizzed covered fingers shoved in her mouth she need not be told what to do and started sucking her mess from his rough fingers.

She had completely forgotten the plot of the movie she was watching and only shooting smiles at Bi-han and wondering what other parts of his body are cold. After the movie, Tomas got up and offered Y/N to stay for dinner. "You know it's pretty late I should get going home." She refused awkwardly. "Did you enjoy the movie?" Bi-han asked with an unreadable expression.Tomas was taken aback since when does Bi-han care about the opinion of others especially on irrelevant things like a movie directed by Johnny but the girl about to leave knew he was not referring to the movie,"it was nice...I've never experienced something like that before" she smiled at him. Tomas offered to walk her home but she needed to be alone and given time to think.

'Did that really just happen??The always angry dude just fingered me while he was sitting next to his brother!!???' The whole scene felt like it came out of a bad porno. When she arrived home she went to straight to bed staring at her ceiling contemplating if this was a dream or if it actually happend. 'Of course it happend Y/N' she slightly hit herself on the head. Her mind begun to wander again thinking of Bi-han how he smirked at her after her release how good his fingers felt inside of her. She put her hands inside her underwear and tried to recreate Bi-hans movements her hands weren't as cold as his but you have to work with what you've got.

The skirt:

#bi han x reader #bi han sub zero #bi han #johnny cage #mortal kombat 1 #mortal kombat x reader #tomas vrbada #smoke #bi han smut

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plantsrrfriends · 1 year

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Proud and Terrified

Tighnari x gn!Reader

Synopsis; Tighnari tends to neglect parts of his life due to how they differ from humans that don't have animal blood in their veins. But it eventually bites him back.

Themes; fluff, cute researchers, idk man, it's pre-relationship

Approximately 86% of the time, Tighnari was content and proud to be a fennec fox hybrid.

It was something he'd lived with his entire life, so he found it more fruitful to accept his nature rather than be off set by the fascination of others. Mortals were curious creatures; it made sense that they'd be intrigued by him. Even if he disliked the ogling gazes and lingering eyes.

But there was that 14% where he felt a begrudging distaste towards his own instincts and desires. Where the fennec fox piece of him overtook what typical humans and mortals would do.

Such as at the current moment, he couldn't even stand being in the same room as them.

The sight of their smile, each word that danced off their tongue, and even the simple whiff of their soap he'd catch drove him mad. Not in the way that most assumed - it wasn't some uncontrollable hunger or whatever those romance readers always asked of him. It wasn't a sudden possessiveness or animalistic instinct- ...well, at least not to the same degree they assumed it to be.

No, because he didn't have a partner. Emotions such as that were directed towards an established partner that'd he chosen for life, and he had yet to meet someone of such caliber. Tighnari had yet to pursue someone that way. Unfortunately, the source of his ears and tail had been trying to make the decision for him.

It was infuriating. A disruption to his work and a hassle that he didn't feel like dealing with. It was annoying how his tail involuntarily flicked when they turned and called his name. It was causing issues how he was so easily distracted as soon as they wandered into a room, and his train of thought was thoroughly derailed for the next hour or so that they existed in that space. They could be doing something as simple as reading and his hazel eyes would be continuously flicking from his paper and up toward them. He was never actually reading. None of the words on his paper were comprehended anymore and his own pulse became apparent in his ears.

It was annoying. And frankly, he didn't think he could even handle being around them when he had work to be done. But he also felt he'd fall into despair if he said anything to them about it. Because if they denied him, he wasn't sure what he'd do.

But now, it seemed even when they weren't in the room, he was plagued with twitching ears and a tapping foot. He spun his pen in his hand, starting at the words with a furrowed brow but none of them were computing or making sense. All the notes taken weren't making any sense to him. There was a lingering his chest and it made him groan, letting his forehead fall against the table. Maybe he should take a few days off of work to recuperate...

"Tighnari?"

His head shot up. Of course, of all people - it felt like he was in some sick play. To make matters worse, he had to suppress a wince at how they said his name, despite the concerned look they held from the other side of the table.

Until recently, they seldom called Tighnari by his full name. They claimed that nicknames felt more intimate and they loved finding fun ones for people. Of course, they were respectful about it. They referred to him as Master Tighnari until their relationship became less professional and more lenient, causing them to consider each other friends rather then colleagues. And then, he became simple and plain 'Tigh'. It was always, "Hey Tigh, look at this," or "I read an interesting book recently, Tigh. I can lend it to you." They only used his full name if searching for them in the forest or if they were upset at his teasing.

But over the last week, he'd not heard his familiar nickname. Maybe it was just cause he'd been avoiding them, anyways. But he felt it was actually just cause they had caught on to his hesitation and conflicted mood.

Even now, they kept careful distance within the library, books piled in their arms. Each one labeled different subspecies of animals or specifics of a single kind. He specialized in botany and they focused on zoology. That was the reason they'd been introduced in the first place; a shared desire to preserve the forest.

Their brow furrowed at his silence and gently asked again, "Tighnari, is everything alright?"

He swallowed, "Yes, I'm fine. Just... exhausted."

They seemed... cautious. As if overthinking their next words and walking on eggshells. Tighnari hated it. He hated that he was inadvertently the one who caused such a demeanor. Eventually, they locked eyes with him again (he flexed his foot as an outlet of wanting to squirm) and said, "If you need someone to take some of your work burdens, I'm more than happy. It's been quiet in the sanctuary as of late."

It was insane how two sentences could instantly make his tail swish. No matter how hard he tried to subdue its effect, he still felt it in his chest and stomach. The feeling of insects, as people often describe it in fiction. He wasn't one for fiction reading, but they were and it'd caused him to delve into it a tad.

The first sentence was pure worry and care for his well-being. They must think his newfound attitude was a side effect of his work. Sometimes, it could be. But usually, he was still happy to be doing research despite the strenuous task it could prove to be. Tourists caused him stress as well, due to their naivety and desire to seemingly poison themselves at every corner, but he was careful to who he directed his frustrations. This is the first time they've experienced the blunt end of it. He felt a tightness in his chest knowing it was his fault.

The second sentence was words of their own passion. If you let them, they'd babble for days about the animal sanctuary and the state of its inhabitants. They cared for it day in and day out and he's had more than a few times where he'd wander past in the late hours, only to find them still there and taking their nightly medicine routines into their own hands. He'd never met someone more in tune with other beings. He himself preferred living beings that lacked as much consciousness, but they reveled in figuring out their needs and helping them back into the wild. The fact that they were willing to put aside their duties in their prized home spoke a thousand words.

"There's no need," He excused, voice involuntarily softer than expected, "Thank you, though. That's very kind."

They hummed, gently setting their tower of books on the table. It seemed they didn't intend to let this go gently. Though he knew they would never be pushy - just open and sometimes almost pleading to understand others. They always said humans were much more difficult to understand than animals. Humans have more difficult needs. Animals are wordless but have a simple list of what they require.

They lingered, pretending to flicker over the spines on a nearby bookcase. Tighnari could do nothing but watch them, far too distracted by their presence to continue his own work.

"I read a new book the other day," They brought up, gaze flickering back towards him, still standing.

Okay, this was fine. Normal conversations, like they usually had. He would never admit that he missed it. He linked his hands, setting his chin on them and elbows on the table, "Oh, really? Pray tell."

Without missing a beat they said, "It was about foxes."

He paused. They continued, "Different subspecies. Some are native to Sumeru, and some are from other regions. Apparently, their fur color often corresponds with where they are native to," They finally pulled out a chair and sat, continuing a gentle tone, "Some of it mentioned fennec foxes. Curious stuff, really."

Tighnari had frozen. His once slightly smug demeanor had taken a turn and he instead watched them with wide eyes. They paused their sentence, but the only thing he could mutter in reply was a small, "...Interesting."

"It really was," They mused, picking the top book from their pile and seamlessly flipping to a certain page. Even from his spot across the table, he could see diagrams of four-legged animals with big ears. His own twitched atop his head and he struggled not to let them show too much of his emotion.

Their finger dragged across the page as they explained nonchalantly, "The smallest of the foxes, and they eat a lot of meat or similar. Sometimes berries. Though, I assume based on their typical habitat in the desert, fruit, and berries are more so like a treat."

...Was this some newfound form of torture? Or was some game they were playing to mess with him? He was unsure, but the only solution he had was to listen. Even if their words grew more familiar with each sentence - like they were slowly drifting away from explaining the average fennec fox and heading towards explaining something else.

"They help control rodents, primarily. And yet we hunt them and they struggle in some parts of the world. But they're doing better, lately," They explained calmly, the same way they did any other information. They looked up from the book and back towards the man, "They have an extraordinary hearing as well. And their ears serve as protection from the sun. But would you like to know the most curious thing to me?"

Instead, he asked, "Why were you researching Fennec Foxes?"

He hoped maybe he'd get an admittance of some sort, but he should've known better. As they just smiled and said, "We just rescued some at the sanctuary. I got curious, I suppose. Anyways," And they returned to his torture, "We rescued two of them, and I got to looking at their mating habits. It's interesting to me, frankly."

Archons, save Tighnari now. Their gentle smile was anything but innocent, words laced with false naivety as they said, "It's a bit poetic, honestly. They mate for life, just with one another. Sounds like a big commitment."

They hummed, letting their head fall tilted into one of their hands, "If we humans had obligations like that - for our first partner to be our last - we'd have many different traditions. I think it'd end up being terrifying, for some surely. What a heavyweight, knowing the chance of picking the wrong person or them not reciprocating."

He swallowed, spinning a pen between his fingers just to move in any way and keep his ears from drooping at their words. Trying to keep any reaction from reaching him and making them aware of what they were doing. He cleared his throat, shifting in his seat. They just watched him, carefully calculated. The same way they read the body languages of creatures in the sanctuary. He didn't like being on the receiving end of that gaze, particularly.

They waited patiently for an answer so he ended up just spitting out the first thing he could think of, "It is terrifying."

Uh oh. He recognized that small smile of achievement and it made his brow furrow in annoyance. They leaned forward, chin on both hands now with a sly, "Are you implying it applies to you as well, Tighnari?"

So this is what they wanted. A twisted confession of sorts that he was affected by the more animal-ish parts of himself than he often cared to admit. It wasn't really any bodies business, but they were just too good at reading all creatures and prying it from him. And his expression just seemed to seal the deal for them, based on the pleased hum they gave.

"I knew it," They whispered, leaning even farther forward across the table and making him press against the back of his chair as they interrogated, "So who is it? Give me a name so I can give them a stamp of approval or run them away."

"It's nobody," He quickly growled in defense.

They frowned, "Well, I assume it's why I don't see you much anymore, so it's gotta be something."

"And what brought you to the conclusion that it was something to do with my love life?" He scoffed, not sure whether he was trying to fool himself or them. A small part of him also admittedly wanted to actually know how they were brought to this conclusion.

And to his delight, they leaned back and began to recount, "Well, you've been more agitated as of late. But you also seem happier in a weird way. Your tail has been wagging - which I've never witnessed from you before - and I even caught you purring once-"

"I don't purr!" He quickly deflected, placing his hands roughly on the surface of the table with heat rising to his face. They raised their hands in defense, giving a small laugh and waving for him to sit back again. He did, and tacked on, "That all could have to do with anything. Not necessarily some school crushes you think I may have."

They opened their mouth, but paused and gave a hum instead. Tighnari thought that perhaps he'd somehow convinced them, but they were too smart for that. They never would go into such an accusation without a plausible clause, so there was bound to be something else.

As expected, there was. Their mood seemed to simmer down into what it had been when they first arrived, hands fidgeting and gaze flickering. They said, "...Well, I spoke with Collei, and then Cyno. Collei gave her insight but was rather reserved. Cyno was blunt with his answer, however."

Tighnari couldn't help but ask, "Why do you care about this so much?"

Another pause, and then a tiny admittance, "It really seemed to be bothering you and I wanted to help. And I thought I might've done something wrong, admittedly."

...Right. That's why they'd been calling his name so formally. Why they seemed almost timid. But despite the way his shoulders sank just an inch, they gave a small carefree laugh to brush it aside and continued anyways, "Anyways, their responses led me to two hypotheses. One seemed more likely, so I began to pursue that one first."

"I assume it was the idea that I had romantic feelings for someone," He deduced and they nodded with a smile. Tighnari folded his arms over his chest and asked, "Then what was your second hypothesis?"

Their energy shrank again. This time, just that unassuming question seemed to flip the table and some color grew along their face. Tighnari's ear twitched against his will at the sight, tail threatening to shift. He suppressed the urge to let it move further.

They smiled nervously, "It doesn't really matter, it's unlikely."

There was no way he was just letting them get away with that, "I trust any ideas you may have, so please."

"It's self-centered and idiotic," They said this time, and he took note of a dislike at hearing them speak like that, but they tacked on, "Hence why it was a second hypothesis, but it really shouldn't have been counted."

"What's it based on?" Tighnari asked instead, trying to weave his way into its true nature.

They seemed awkward now. He admittedly enjoyed it. They explained, "Just based on the data given by Collei and Cyno."

"And that is?" He pushed further.

No answer came immediately. Instead, they picked at the pages of their open book, eyes flickering over the fox figure on its pages. They weren't currently wearing the usual uniform they did, and he hated how he took pleasure in seeing them outside of a work environment. A simple button-down and wide-legged pants. Always an odd mixture of styles from Mondstat - where they spent many years studying - and Sumeru, their current point of residence. But always comfortable. No matter what.

They didn't answer his question, but said instead, "I read another book. It was specifically about the fox-human race. I learned a lot, actually, that I wasn't aware of before."

He didn't interrupt, and instead opted to listen carefully as they continued, "Like why your fur is green, or the fact that your race typically lives in the desert - which I find ironic, based on how well you fair in hot weather. But it also showed that you share some practices with your animal counterparts."

"Which is why you looked into them," He finished, and they nodded.

"Yes, but..." They paused, putting their hands together again in a wringing and picking that he seldom saw in them. It took them a second to gather their words, but they eventually scoffed in fake amusement and said, "Well, a common factor seemed to be... me. Collei didn't say it, but I could tell, and Cyno was blunt. So I figured it could be one of two things. Either I did something you didn't like - but I know you're good about letting people know if they've done something of the sort, so I trust you - or..."

Oh. Oh, Archons. Tighnari was terrible at hiding things, wasn't he?

"...Maybe it was me," They finally finished, then gave another scoff like it was some joke, "But that's just me trying to shift things, no matter how well it all lined up."

Tighnari's throat felt like it was closing up. So close, yet so far. He couldn't help but say, "How does it all line up?"

They blinked, seeming almost confused about his further inquiry and lack of berating or being called a 'Lummox' like he often did. He was acting weird - and that made them grow a bit more nervous as well.

They acted poorly at being casual, leaning back and saying, "Well, they didn't really mention noticing a mood change around them, unless I was brought up or I came into a room. Collei didn't really say much about it, she tries not to spread your business, but she did say you snapped at her once when she offered to ask me for help. Cyno was blunter - he's the one who put the hypothesis in my mind."

Of course, he was, Tighnari bitterly thought, already planning the long-winded speech of annoyance he was going to give his friend. All he could think to do was give a small hum, but he regretted it immediately when a short silence ensued.

Eventually, they felt the need to fill it and said, "Yeah, that's why I said it was self-centered."

He wanted to laugh. 'Self-centered'- they just looked at the facts and data provided and gave the best solution. And they were dead on, as well. But he wouldn't say that to them - he couldn't say it to them. Because they were right about everything they said. About his newfound attitude only being around them, and also about how terrifying it was knowing the partners he chose were intended to be for life. Humans don't typically live like that.

Many are able to spend their years, shifting from partner to partner to learn about romance and explore the world, but he was just wired differently. And sure, he knew a small bit about their past romance life and the single, short-lived relationship they had. And the fact that they took such matters rather seriously and weren't one to dance around. Frankly, that conversation, laced with just a few drinks of wine, had been one of the first tipping points in his mind. The way they had laid their head on the table, and how quiet the night had been. It was so loud just an hour before, but now they were having a heartfelt conversation about expectations regarding relationships. He'd shared practically no details, but they never once pushed and instead opened up to him. He didn't deserve it. He didn't deserve them.

"You're right," He blurted out.

It took him a moment to realize the words had left his lips. Tighnari could hear his blood flow in his ears and felt impossibly stiff in his chair.

They blinked, "...Okay, I know I was saying it was self-centered, but it does hurt when you confirm it."

He tripped over his words, "What? No- That's not - I didn't mean that. I'm talking about-"

Oh, absolutely not. Tighnari would say a lot of things, typically in observation of others' wrongdoings, but he still was struggling to admit that they had figured him out. They'd read him and his actions like an open book, and while that alone was embarrassing, it was what they read that he couldn't bare to admit.

Their brow furrowed, watching him in confusion and wracking their brain, gears turning. Then, they blinked and cautiously asked, "...My second hypothesis?"

Tighnari didn't respond.

They mumbled, "...Oh."

Would it be wrong of Tighnari to grab his books and excuse himself? He supposes it would. But there was absolutely nothing else he wanted to do besides that. They would find him, he knew that, but he also knew that if he left right now, it'd just make it worse. It'd give him a momentary time of pure panic until they eventually confronted him. It's best to get whatever was going to happen over with now. Even if he was sure the speed of his heart was too fast to be healthy and his claws had dug deep into the seat of his chair. His hazel gaze had dropped down to his book, trying to seem almost nonchalant but it was impossible with how stiff his shoulders were.

There was at least a minute where they were both quiet, but it definitely felt like hours. Like an endless amount of time was passing and he truly began to consider picking up his books and leaving. He wouldn't get any work done, but maybe that was better than sitting here painfully.

And then, their chair squeaked. He flinched at the sharp sound and at first thought they must be leaving. Maybe that would be their rejection - and as much as he liked to think he was prepared for one, he knew how heart-wrenching it would be if he got one. That's why he preferred the awkward in-between of having a crush and not confessing. It would be better than if they rejected him.

From the corner of his eye, he saw them pick up their chair by the back of it, and then their padding footsteps came around the table. The chair landed beside him, and they came soon after. He felt impossibly warm like he was in the desert itself. He wouldn't even be surprised if they could feel it from their spot next to him.

They folded their arms on the table and laid their head on them, eyes looking straight up toward Tighnari. This was horrible. Even worse than how they tortured him before.

Their voice was delicately soft as they asked, "Are you scared 'cause of the implications of lifelong partners?"

He scoffed, tilting his head away to try and give his flushed face some privacy from their prying eyes, "That's the lightest way to put it."

"I'll spend my life with you."

Tighnari sat still. His heart still raced. But he managed to glance back at them, a serious expression on them still with their head down. He asked, "You'll what?"

They smiled, "I basically said I feel the same. And I'd be pretty content stuck with you for the rest of my life," They gave a thoughtful glance upwards in thought, "Y'know, I thought I made it pretty obvious how I felt. Did I not?"

This time, Tighnari's rise in heat in his face was due to annoyance and he barked, "No, you did not make anything obvious!"

They laughed pushing themselves to sit up but still gazing at him. For a few moments, he just took deep breaths and tried to come to terms with his impossible solution coming to fruition. He'd thought millions of times about what he'd do should they reject him, but hardly given any thought to the opposite happening. He didn't really know what to do now.

Thankfully, they had an answer, "Y'know, now would be a really cute and kinda romantic time to kiss."

In a very 'them' fashion, they added, "It'd be like a scene from those romance books I like to read. All tense and then cute and soft-"

He shut up their annoying ramble by just grabbing their face gently and complying with their request. They hummed in delight and replied quickly.

Tighnari was content and proud to be a fox hybrid. But it becomes easier with each person that takes time to know him and understand him.

#tighnari x reader #tighnari #tighnari x you #genshin impact x you #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #x reader #fluff #cute #plants #first kiss #mutual pinning #cyno mentioned #collei mentioned

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league-of-sam · 1 month

Text

Don't Be Shy | Konig x Reader

Kӧnig x TF141 x AFAB!Reader

PART ONE

Summary: Transferred against your will to a new task force to calm a troubled soldier, you felt way in over your head - especially when you came face to face with a 6'10" mountain of Austria. 18+ MINORS DNI! t.w // angst, mental health, language, violence, human trafficking, death, sexual themes/SMUT, military inaccuracies, language inaccuracies (google translate).

2 / 3 / 4 / 5

You'd been the new kid on the block, over and over again.

Late to training, late into the 141, and now, late into Task Force KorTac with a very special, and very specific mission.

A mission that was built for you.

A mission that required the utmost professionalism.

A mission that required somehow pulling a 6’10” brick shithouse out of his own head and into a team - but you didn’t know that, yet.

Oh, and fuck, did you protest it. Over and over and over again. It had taken you months to settle with the 141 boys, and now you were being shipped off, away from your family.

“You’re really good at that, uh, the empathy shit.” Price had said, placing a warming hand on your shoulder.

“I’m a soldier, Price. And you know how much I struggle around new people.” You spoke, the latter half of the sentence said in a hushed tone.

“Yes, but you’re good at, ya know, feeling." He replied, fingers lifted to place air quotes around the word, "You got Ghost to come out of his shell!”

At that moment, your lieutenant entered the room, making his way over at the mention of his callsign.

You rolled your eyes, “Okay, so send him! Lord knows he needs the practise.”

“Watch ya mouth, little one.” Ghost said, stepping next to you.

“Just because you’re a foot taller than me does not mean you get to bully me for it, Simon.”

Despite what people thought about the giant, skull-mask-wearing man, he was soft and caring; the relationship you had built together was that of siblings, and he had your back more than any ordinary brother would.

Ghost’s eyes were dark under his mask, but you knew he was smirking, “Not my fault you’re a short arse.”

“Yet I’m still a better sniper than you.”

“No, you bloody well aren’t-”

“Children! Please…” Price interrupted the sibling-like bickering; fingers pinched on the bridge of his nose. “If we could focus on the task at hand?”

Ghost poked your side, mumbling, “Yeah, (Y/L/N), focus on your task.”

“Go have Soap suck your dick some more, sounds like you need to relax.” You mumbled back.

Your retort had Ghost choking, the sharp intake of air he made as his head whipped to look at you causing him to cough relentlessly. Price shook his head, waving him off to sort himself out.

It wasn’t exactly a secret within the team that there was something a little less savoury going on with your lieutenant and Sergeant MacTavish, especially when the latter would constantly confide in you about his crush.

Especially, after what had happened with Hassan and the missiles.

But, thanks to your meddling, you had been able to get Ghost to open up, and it seemed like the two were much happier.

Not that you’d dare make a comment about it in front of anyone but Price and Ghost himself.

You valued your life, thank you very much.

And as much as Ghost loved you like a sister; he would absolutely kill you.

As Ghost walked away, you shot him the sweetest smile you could muster, resulting in him throwing you the finger.

“Look, you’re the only one I think can get through to him, kid. The task force needs you.” Price continued.

“I applied to be here, sir. I worked damn hard to make it onto the 141.”

He sat you down, taking your hands in his, “This isn’t permanent. I promise, we’ll be here waiting when ya get back, because I want to work with this guy. He’s bloody good, so I need you to make sure he can play well with others."

You sighed heavily, the weight of responsibility and leaving your family crushing your shoulders, "And you are my best sniper., Karma.”

Price had whispered that last part, for your ears only, a smirk across his bearded lips. You smiled widely, a giggle falling from your mouth.

It felt good to get that recognition from your superior.

He wasn’t wrong; the reason you made it onto the 141 in the first place was your incredible skill as a marksman…well, markswoman. You’d earned the call sign Karma from Soap, who watched you in a training drill he ran.

You’d been perched up high, completely hidden, and any enemy that your team missed in combat, you cleaned up, never missing a shot. Like the saying goes, if you can’t get ‘em, karma will.

It was also suitable for those who underestimated you. Every person you’d gone up against in hand-to-hand training doubted your abilities due to your smaller frame, but fuck, did you prove them wrong every time.

Broken noses here.

Fractured limbs there.

You were Karma, and no one messed with you.

“So, think you can do this for me?” Price said.

“Affirmative, sir.”

“That’s my girl.”

With that, you walked, albeit with a little sadness, back to your quarters, packing a duffle of your things. Price had said you’d only be away for a couple of months tops, depending on how the mission went.

At the car, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, and the rest of the 141 were there to say goodbye, all of them giving you a squeeze as they wrapped you in their arms.

“You be good, alright?” Ghost had whispered in your ear, “See you when ya come home.”

“It almost sounds like you’re gonna miss me, Lt.” You quipped, and he rolled his eyes.

“I’m sure you’d like to believe that.”

“He’ll miss ye, bonnie.” Soap cut in, lifting you off the ground, “As will I. Don’t forget me in the excitement of the big bad KorTac boys, will ya?”

“I could never, Soap. You’re my number one!”

With one final wave and various counts of love you’s, you were stuffed into the car with Price and Laswell, the two of them escorting you personally.

Your heart hung low as your team got smaller and smaller behind you, but you were honoured to have been sought out by another team.

KorTac.

Didn’t quite have the same ring to it as 141, but it’d do.

The journey was short from the training camp in London, as you were dropped off at Heathrow, where a private chopper awaited you. From there, you were shipped off to a covert facility in the mountains of Hungary.

The scenery was beautiful, but your nerves bubbled up inside you.

With a silent nudge from the pilot, you were shoved out of the chopper, greeted by several members of your new team.

“Sergeant (Y/L/N), yes?” the man said, a heavy Hungarian accent lacing his words.

“Uh, yeah, that’s me. Sergeant (Y/N) (Y/L/N),” You stuck your hand out, “But you can call me Karma, whatever suits.”

“Fender.” the man said, shaking your hand, “I run things here at KorTac. This is my second in command, Roze.”

A woman stepped forward from behind him, also taking your hand in hers, “We’re honoured to have you here, Karma. Heard a lot about you.”

“Well, I’m honoured that you guys wanted me.”

The pleasantries continued until you were being guided to their facilities, being allowed to drop off your bags before rushing to the tactical room, where the rest of the team was waiting for your arrival.

You were introduced swiftly, barely remembering anyone’s names before you were guided once again to another place, ending up in Fender’s office. He offered you a seat, sitting opposite at his desk.

“So, what exactly did Captain Price tell you of your purpose here?”

“Not a lot, really. He mentioned that I was needed because you have a soldier here that needs…help? And that there was a mission coming that required my particular skill.”

“Ahh, yes. That would be Kӧnig…” he sighed, pulling out a file and dropping it in front of you.

You opened the file, to find a picture of a man, a sniper hood that you recognised adorning his face. Scanning the information, you found that he was Austrian, joining the task force here through the KSK, basically being used as a front man for the teams on-ground.

“Kӧnig has…issues. He came here wanting to be a sniper, but, as you’ll see when you meet him, his physical attributes do not allow it. He didn’t take that well, but he excels as part of the contact team.”

“So, what exactly is the problem?”

Fender sighed, leaning forward in his chair, “He seems to have some problems with anxiety. I was informed that you used to suffer with such issues but were able to overcome them.”

You scoffed a little, “So, I’m here to be a glorified babysitter?”

You felt bad for this Kӧnig.

You couldn’t imagine wanting nothing more than to be a sniper and then have it taken away from you because of your physicality.

That would fucking suck.

“We just need someone to calm him, teach him control. A lot of the other team members are so scared of him they can barely stand being in the same room.”

“Arseholes…” you whispered under your breath, “That’s hardly fair, sir. By the looks of things, he is an essential member of this team.”

“That maybe so, but I can’t have my soldiers acting that way off the field. Unfortunately, if you cannot help him, he will no longer be welcome on any task force.”

You shook your head in disbelief.

How fucking unfair.

Before you could say anything, the office door opened. You stood to greet Roze but gasped slightly at the giant shadow behind her.

Stood in front of you, was a complete mountain of a man.

He had to duck down considerably to make it through the doorframe. Every single inch of him was huge. Ghost used to make you feel intimidated and tiny, but this…this was fucking ridiculous. Kӧnig had to have been at least 6’10”, and the size of his muscles would put both Ghost and Soap to shame.

Truly, this was a big, big man.

Oh, you thought, the sniper hood stayed on?

“Ah, Kӧnig, there you are. Thank you, Roze, you may go.”

“Sir.” She nodded, smiling to you before leaving the room and shutting it behind her.

“You wanted to see me, sir?” Kӧnig spoke, barely sparing you a glance as he addressed his superior. A thick accent tainted his English, but he was well-spoken.

Fender stood, moving around the desk to the two of you, “Yes. This is Karma, she’s the new addition to the team, and will be your new…partner, as such.”

“Uh, p-partner, sir?”

Fender nodded.

“Hi.” You spoke, a soft smile on your features as you stuck out your hand for him to shake. “I’m (Y/N) (Y/L/N), but you can call me (Y/N/N), or Karma, whatever you like really.”

Your hands shook from nervousness as you rambled on.

New people always made you anxious, but this…this was intense.

Was it the accent?

The sheer size of him?

You couldn’t tell if you were intimidated, anxious, or frankly, maybe even a little turned on.

“Kӧnig.” He grunted but refused to meet your hand.

It hung in the air for an embarrassing amount of time, causing you to clear your throat as you lowered it, heat rising to your cheeks.

Yeah, this guy’s people skills were shite.

“Uh, right. Pleasure to meet you.” You finally said in an effort to shake off the awkwardness.

With that, Fender led the two of you back out, and towards the training centre. As you passed various soldiers, many of them looked to you, whispering.

By now, stares and such were just water off a duck’s back for you. Being part of the infamous 141 always brought a lot of unwanted attention. But that didn’t mean it didn’t make you uncomfortable, nonetheless.

Kӧnig, on the other hand, walked slightly behind you and Fender, his eyes not leaving the back of your body. He was used to the stares and whispers, the team never failing to make him feel like a freak of nature on the daily.

But he didn’t care at this moment.

He was fascinated by you.

The bright pink slivers of colour that peaked out from beneath the rest of your hair intrigued him; he was sure that went against regulation. You were also so sweet and tiny, the sniper rifle strapped to your back was almost as big as you were.

So, you were a sniper.

Why the fuck would Fender pair him with a sniper? Like he didn’t get mocked enough!

And now here you were, walking around with your head held high, like you fucking owned the place.

His own personal fucking babysitter.

The more he looked at you, the more his heart filled with rage, gloved fists balling at his sides.

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fatallyfalling · 4 months

Text

Bitter Water 0.05 ~ ♆

“ Fuck you, Odair ”

warnings: typical Hunger Games violence/trauma/themes, language, blood, injury, insinuation of forced prostitution, enemies to lovers, slow burn, death, nightmares, reader throws up whoops, alcohol/tipsy! reader, Finnick is still an ass, etc

{{ word count }} 2.8 k

{{ prompt }} Readjusting to life outside the arena is a challenge. You’re barely able to cope with the blood staining your hands and the new terrors that arise before you’re whisked away back home.

{{ a/n }} happy holidays ! we’re finally going to be getting somewhere in reader and Finnick’s relationship this time around !! there will still be a lot more build up from here don’t fear <3

Finnick had to adjust his grip to keep your buckling knees from bringing both of you to the linoleum tile below. You had gone all but limp in the boy’s arms as choked sobs escaped your lips. You broke down right there in his arms, eventually taking the two of you to your knees regardless of the boy’s strength nor his futile attempts to keep you either standing or to guide you back to your cot. Wires connected sticky monitors to a wailing device and tangled themselves around your arms and chest. A small trickle of blood dribbled down your forearm from where your IV tube had been ripped out in your scuffle away from the medics.

Finnick’s brows knit together in a tight crease as your fingertips pressed hard into his honey-tanned skin. A muscle in the boy’s jaw fluttered as your sobs and burning touch tugged that thread in his chest hard. Your claim from the train ride had been ripped from your grasp without so much as a goodbye, all in the name of survival.

“I’d rather choose death than a life with blood on my hands.”

He didn’t really know why you were gripping him so tight, as if he’d disappear should your grip be released, considering you’d almost taken him out with a medical tool upon his entrance to the small medical bay. The device had cracked the small window next to the doorway, and broken glass now speckled the floor beneath the shattered pane. Your broken, hiccuped cries continued on, ragged breaths barely bringing air into your lungs, while Finnick shot warning glares back towards the doctors who tried to enter the room. The medical professionals slowly backed out upon meeting the deadly daggers within the Darling’s sea-green gaze. You were in hysterics, to say the least. The reality of your survival and the invisible crimson caked into your skin slammed into every fiber of your being and brought bile rising into your already constricted throat. But nothing heaved itself from your empty stomach. Finnick sat cautiously still, the linoleum tile cold beneath his knees, as his gaze turned away from the open door back to your crumpled form. He didn’t say anything nor make any moves to comfort or touch you, only providing space to allow you to get everything out. To be frank, Finnick didn’t know how to react besides sitting still. You hadn’t expressed kindness to him since meeting one another, nor had he you, but the thought of your fear and the pain tearing apart your chest being intensified by the poking and prodding of medics and nurses tugged that thread again painfully as if the tension was pulled so tight on a guitar sting that one more twist would cause it to snap and fly back in a heated slice across his heart.

So the Darling stayed.

He sat with you till exhaustion ebbed into your shoulders, and your tears slowly dried. He sat still as a rock until reality came back into focus, and your fingernails left small, purple crescent moons on his tanned forearms as you released your grip. Your breaths were shaky, and your voice was shot as your bloodshot, red-rimmed eyes and puffy cheeks flushed with color dragged up to meet calm sea-green oceans. “I-I’m.. sorry…” You struggle to gasp out before your chin dips, and a trembling arm comes up to cough viciously into your elbow. Finnick simply shook his head, rubbing sweaty palms on his tear-stained trousers before combing a hand through the bronze waves thrown atop his head.

“It’s fine,”

The small room fell silent, aside from the bustling commotion outside the bay and your gasping breaths as air still struggled to fill your lungs. “I should go get a nurse. You’re bleeding again.” Finnick huffs after a beat before moving to stand. You don’t say anything as your arms curl around yourself in a tight hug. A thick swallow goes down the boy’s throat as he forces himself away from the room and into the bright, sterile hallway. That thread tugged his shoulders back as if trying to push him backward into that room towards the corner you’d curled into, but he willed himself to move forward. You were just a scared victor. You had gripped the first familiar thing to you after being trapped in a cruel Game for a month. Your actions were instinct-driven and nothing more. You’d only met for two days. There was no point or reason for his chest to be this tight or his skin to hunger after your touch. His jaw sets as he rubs the crescent indents on his skin, searching for a nurse down the hall.

That thread snaps tight in his chest again with each brush of his thumbs over the purple marks.

You’re kept in the medical bay of the Capital’s Tribute Center for a fortnight. The lengthy stay was mostly for observation purposes following a psyche evaluation alongside the closing ceremonies of the 67th Games and another sugarcoated interview full of bright lights and flashing cameras with Caesar Flickerman. You’d thrown up at least once before or after every public appearance. You despised the spotlight, gargling a minted mouthwash between your teeth to coat your tongue and rid the sour taste of bile from your lips. Hyacinth returned to plaster you in garish flourishes and flounces along with an opaque concealer to cover the deep-set smudges of purple beneath your eyes from lack of sleep. The Capital had been gracious enough to mend your wounds well, but makeup was still needed to cover bruises in various stages of healing. You did your best to plaster on that faux, practiced smile before performing once again for the entertainment of millions of Panem citizens.

Your stomach painfully churned upon your realization that the performance would never end. You’d always be forced to perform from this moment forward.

You’d only seen your mentor, Mags, consistently after your breakdown, besides various medical personnel needing to check on you. Finnick was only seen in passing. The two of you hadn’t spoken since your outburst, nor had the two of you stood in the same room long enough to converse with one another, let alone stand beside one another. Only fleeting glances were shared across crowds, and the bronze-haired boy was constantly moving, constantly changing. Each night, he would appear strapped to the hip of a new Capital elitist in progressively more revealing tunics and netting that unfortunately left less and less to the imagination. Your nose crinkled at the aura he put out, cocky and self-absorbed while flashing showboating smirks and suggestive comments back to back. At least the rumors concerning the two of you harboring some kind of “star-crossed lovers” spectacle had died out upon your announced victory and the Darling’s consistent appearances with new presumed partners, earning him the term playboy in the gossip strips of Capital newspapers. You tried to avoid the victor and his attitude at all costs, forcing yourself to forget the moment shared in a forgotten hospital room corner and move on.

Mags was sweet as ever, doting on you like a worried mother hen and doing her best to ensure your comfort, considering your unstable circumstances. She visited you daily, sometimes more than once. The two of you would share a meal or cup of tea, conversing in your own signals and whispered words, discussing anything and everything to help you get through the day. On the hard days, the two of you would sit in a calm silence, simply absorbing the pleasant company of one another.

Tonight, you would finally board the train back to District 4. Back home. You didn't sleep at all the night before. Whether it was nerves, excitement, or the haunting phantoms behind your eyes whenever they closed? You're not sure. It could be all three, honestly. Thatcher was busy lecturing your procession as bright flashes blinded your vision, and loud hollers of the Capital upper-class bludgeoned your ears. However, all you wanted was to be out of the spotlight and locked inside your personal quarters for the next two days before finally seeing your lovely younger brothers again. A gloved hand grips your shoulder and urges you to keep moving. The stark-white uniforms of peacekeepers cloud your peripherals, sending your skin crawling. The grip feels like a brand on your skin.

Moments after the train car doors shut, the industrial machinery surges to life, and the train sets into motion. An ascending chug roars as the metal car picks up speed. “Come, come! Just like our last journey, there is much to be discussed!” Your escort queries while ushering everyone towards a too-familiar dark wood dining table. Your group was small, but Thatcher, Hyacinth, Mags, Yourself, and surprisingly, Finnick gathered at the long table, taking seats behind cursive name cards and crystal wine glasses. You couldn’t help your sweeping gaze across the silk tablecloth toward the 65th victor. The boy was lounged across his armchair, weight pressing into his left elbow on the armrest as his free arm dangled the wine glass, dark wine slowly swirling inside the goblet. His position appeared comfortable but exuded pride. You forced your gaze down to your glass of wine after sea-green oceans caught wind of your unintentional staring. A cheshire smirk pressed dimples into his tanned cheeks, but no words were exchanged between you two.

“Now, we have two days before arriving back on the sunshine sands of District 4. For our dear victor,”

Your name sounds foreign in such a cheerful tone.

“Your family has already been transferred to your lovely new home in Victor’s Village! Our Darling, Finnick here, will be just across from your new home with Mags beside him. Your fellow victors will be around you in the rest of the village for support and companionship!” You wince at the escort’s last words. You didn’t want their feigned “companionship” You just wanted to go home. A dark chuckle resonated across the table, and even Thatcher goes quiet for once.

“Yes of course, we have weekly parties to discuss our methods from the arena, and sit in circles and sing koombaya.”

Your nose scrunches in discomfort at the bronze-haired victor’s blatant sarcasm. Mags shifts uncomfortably in her seat at the end of the table between the two of you while shooting the boy a pointed look. A beat passes before Thatcher clears their throat and tries to continue their speech. “Uhm, yes… I suppose. Ahem. When we arrive at the station, cameras will be ready, so I expect nothing more than big smiles! We are happy to be home and to see our beloved District again. No more, no less. There will be a meeting with the Mayor, then a procession through the District to Victor’s Village, and then another meeting to discuss the terms of the next six months before beginning your Victory tour through all of the districts, ending with a grand celebration in the Capital city with our Honored President Snow.” Thatcher continues. Their voice regains its usual lilt and confidence, almost as if they’re convincing themself of the festivities ahead. They gives another speech on rules and expectations, Hyacinth flutters on about her ideas of possible designs for the tour, among other details, and you feel like you’re about to be sick.

You quickly down about two and a half glasses of wine before you’re buzzed and floaty enough to settle in your seat. You’d drowned out the conversation long before, finding the dozens of tiny rainbow light fractals sparkling in your crystal goblet far more intriguing. The dark wine was dry and bitter-tasting. Through slow-blinking eyes, you finish what’s left in your goblet and excuse yourself from the nonsensical conversation. Amidst your hazy stumble from the table, you didn’t bother or care to notice the sea-green eyes fixating on your retreating form.

You just wanted to lay down, possibly throw up; you couldn’t decide which quite yet. You’d never bothered with alcohol before. Seeing what the fermented liquid had done to your father made the idea unpleasant. But after experiencing the hazy warmth the drink brought to your core and the ease of a clouded mind, you began to see why he had taken up the habit. The Capital didn’t seem to care if minors drank anyway. You told yourself over and over you wouldn’t let this get bad. You refused to be like him. You just needed to get home and see the sweet faces of your brothers.

Your personal quarters were the same as before, sleek and industrial with shades of grey and royal blue velvet followed by dark wooden accents. Your clothes were comfortable linen, the same ones you’d worn off the train before the Games, but this time, your top was an inky black, and your lightweight pants a cool, forest-toned green. Face planting into the plush bedding, you curled in on your side. Your hair had been left in its natural texture since the games, only maneuvered when Hyacinth needed you to appear publicly in her newest design. Your knees hugged close to your chest, and your arms curled in close, making for a tightly coiled fetal position. The back of your skull felt fuzzy as if a hand was leaving ghostly pinpricks up along the nape of your neck to the crown of your head. The feeling was peculiar yet welcome, adding to the fuzziness behind your eyes and the warmth wrapping around your torso.

Your sleep was light and thankfully, dreamless.

Sleep held you hostage for several hours before jolting you awake in a cold sweat, as the fervent need to expel your stomach sent you scrambled to the black porcelain latrine and heaved bile and wine. You were lucky you’d made it to the small washroom at all, with how quickly the intoxicated need took hold of your consciousness.

“Well now, haven’t we been here before?”

You could hear the smirk on Finnick’s face before you’d even finished wiping your mouth on a strip of bath tissue.

“Get out.”

Your tone was cold, glare laced with irritation, as you shifted to clean yourself up and shakily stood after gripping the onyx rim of the washroom sink. You weren’t in the mood for idle chatter nor the taunts that glinted in the sea-green irises behind you. “If you’re just here to gloat or say, “I told you so,” you can shove it. I’ve had enough false charm and teasing, Peacock.”

“Peacock? Is that a new pet name, hm? What was it you told Caesar? Oh, yes - that you would never fall for a stuck-up Peacock like me in mm…say, a thousand years? Maybe Mr. Flickerman was on to something."

"Fuck you, Odair."

Venom spits from your lips as you finally turn, only to be caught off guard by meeting that insufferable smirk mere inches from your face. The two of you were on a fairly level height, but the slight slouch in the boy's stance hinted that he was taller. Your palms connect with honey-tanned skin as you shove the vain Darling back to get around him. "Get out of my room." You quip, blood simmering in your veins as you thrust a pointed finger toward the open door. The swagger in the boy's walk almost had your eye twitching as the various reasons you'd disliked the boy before became crystal clear in the front of your mind. Whatever regret for your previous outburst, or feelings that had flickered between you two in the medical bay were gone, replaced by whatever Golden Boy persona had infected Finnick and twisted calm concern in his eyes to an unreadable cruelty. You hated the boy standing in your doorway.

"Get. Out."

Finnick simply shook his head, before sauntering out of the room, not bothering to mention you’d slept through breakfast. Again.

As the industrial door slid shut behind the boy, that thread snapped tight in his chest again. Swallowing thickly, Finnick shoved his hands deep into his pockets and tried to shrug off the tightness in his chest. The words had tumbled from his lips quicker and harsher than intended and he felt like kicking himself in the ass for his actions. The phantom touch of your hands pressing into his chest made the pink crescents on his forearms sting, and he had to reach up and pick an invisible piece of lint from his tunic for any sense of relief. Maybe he should let you hate him, keep up the act, and remain at arm's length instead of nursing that tight string in his chest linking back to you. You were frightened, traumatized beyond belief, and you just wanted to go home.

Mags was sure to chew him out for a good hour on his behavior well into the late afternoon.

@emerald-09 @reader-bookling123 @finnickodaddy @thehairington86 @darlingsoulbeautifulthoughts @avoxrising @meri-soni-meri-tamanna @whens-naptime @violettbae @the-lonely-abyss @secretsicanthideanymore @nexxus13 @takanparadiae @yourdailymemedelivery @wowzabowza69

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saiidahyunie · 5 months

Text

far too long

minatozaki sana x soccerplayer!reader (pt.3) ; fluff, smut

synopsis: a straight shot up to the top of the soccer spectacle and a long overdue homecoming was the best reward you could ever ask for.

wc: 7.6k

warnings: smut!!!!! ; cursing, mentions of food and drinks

a/n: had this part under wraps for a bit, but i had fun writing though hope you guys will like it!

christmas present from me and happy advanced early bday to shasha washa! :))

pt.1 pt.2 pt.4

—

two and a half years.

thousands of miles and a whole ocean between you and sana as you both focused on your responsibilities respectively.

you were absolutely loving life in england, being able to play the sport you loved on a weekend basis amidst all of the rigorous training regimens that you and your teammates went through to put on an enjoyable performance for the fans on the field.

in addition to the numerous fans packing the stands in the stadium, you also knew that you had friends back home watching any chance they could get despite the massive time difference but they made it work nonetheless.

your first opportunity for your new team when you arrived two years ago went way better than you could’ve ever thought of having. a substitution for your first ever premier league game had your adrenaline rushing, but you had to keep yourself calm if you wanted to make a good first impression and little did you know, sana would be watching as well.

at the same time, on the other side of the world and through a screen, sana watched your first game since leaving on jihyo's laptop, watching you on the small screen as you got straight to business, gliding across the field every time you got the ball. finding the small gaps between the defenders before belting the ball swiftly into the back of the net–your first professional goal as jihyo, sana, and daniel cheered for you through the screen.

sana looked at you through the laptop as you looked dashing in the new threads of your jersey as the camera panned to you celebrating with your hand in the middle of your face before extending your arms out wide, embracing the new feeling you will never get tired of experiencing as your teammates huddled around you.

soon after, you walked up to the camera as you signed something with your hands.

m.sn

sana recognizes her own initials, heart racing at your dedicated celebration for her as you flashed a heart for the camera, blowing a kiss immediately after, running back to your team’s half of the soccer field as jihyo and daniel look at sana who avoids their eye contact, cheeks flushed with red as jihyo teased her.

you wasted no time as every game that you played, you continued to shine as the months passed as your career blossomed. this led to more opportunities for brand deals as well as other events to put your name out there besides your playing, sending sana snippets of your photoshoots that make her scream into her pillow and kick her feet up in the air with the outfits the stylists put you in (she’s going insane mind you but you love it when she’s like this.)

speaking of opportunities, your talents earned you a move to a team that had more higher chances of success in tottenham hotspur a year and a half after your move to brighton as they were the hottest team in the league right now flying in first place thanks to not only you but son heung min and lee nadine creating a trio with you that was setting europe on fire.

you and nadine grew immediately close as teammates as she was the one who helped you get accustomed to the new changes and outside of soccer, she did youtube as a side gig that was raking in views every time she uploaded.

sana was happy that you were enjoying life but was worried that you were going to get caught up in the flashing lights of your career. that certainly wasn’t the case as you reiterated any chance you got in the media that you were taken, wearing the matching ring with the necklace you gifted to her on days off, answering questions on if you were dating anybody in q and a’s–saying, “yes i am, but i like to keep that part of my life private,” and even putting your jersey number as 12 in a homage to her birth month, reminding that you haven’t forgotten about her.

most couples in a long-distance relationship would have initial troubles especially if it’s for a significant period of time, but to you and sana, the both of you ensured that there wouldn’t be any problems. texting before match days, having dates on facetime, or even just one person sleeping as the other would be busy working. those moments you and her shared through the screen would all be worth it the next time you two reunite.

“i miss you.”

you look at your ipad as you lay on the bed of your hotel room, sana doing the same thing on her end, taking a break from her reading as you were about to go to bed before your big match against chelsea.

“i miss you more sana.”

“you should be sleeping right now.”

“i know, but you’re the one who called me?”

sana softly giggles as you got more comfortable in the comforter, shifting slightly as you try to resist the urge to sleep.

“get some rest y/n, you’ll need it for the game tomorrow.”

“will you be watching?” you murmur as your eyes begin to droop.

“i’ll try to, no promises though.” sana replies, her voice just above a whisper.

you hum as you see sana get up through your squinted eyes, taking a picture over facetime over your cute sleepy state. you quietly whine while sana laughs at your complaint.

“i know you’ll do well tomorrow baby, i love you.”

“i love you too, bye.” you mumble as you end the video call, letting the sleep finally take over you with sana the last thought in your mind as you enter dreamland.

—

your clash with chelsea the following day was one of your favorite matches to play in and this time, you had more motivation within you since their manager jimin, ripped you in the press conference for being a player that only has luck on their side. you weren’t the kind of person to take criticism to your head since you let the playing do the talking, but for today it was different.

after the match preparations, warmup, and walkout to the field, it was finally time to get the match underway; you couldn’t contain your jittery emotions as you walked around the sideline as the referee was talking to the captains.

“you’re raring to go aren’t ya.”

you hear a voice as you fix your shin pads, looking up to see your former teammate rin on the other side of the midline.

“of all the people who were compared to me when we played club soccer back at home, you were the only one who was on par with me.” you reply back to rin as the two of you embraced in a hug, a somber moment of friendship despite the difference in teams now.

“hope you don’t get on giselle’s bad side, she’s still pissed from the last time we played against you.”

you and rin look over to giselle who had her eyes deadlocked on you, with an expression so intense she may even look like she was out to kill you.

“too late.” you say as the referee blows his whistle, and the match gets underway.

—

sana watches alongside momo and tzuyu in her living room as you get down to your usual business as the match unfolded. many missed chances of scoring as well as getting in front of the referee’s face, the game delivered an absolute thriller, but that wasn’t even the craziest part.

you slipped a pass between two defenders with nadine dishing it right back to you in the last dying minutes of the game. through on goal it was deemed to be the winner, only for you to get clipped on the leg by giselle in the penalty box that sparked a huge fight between the other players as sana could only watch in shock at the sight of you still on the floor, clutching your ankle.

the game halted for a few minutes as you managed to get up, calming yourself as giselle got up all in your personal space. this girl had a vendetta against you, understandable since you and her are rivals in the league, but her temper got the best of her as she was sent off via red card. the penalty kick would be the last moment of the match, and a win here would boost you and your team’s morale having already won the league championship with the last game of the season.

sana, momo, and tzuyu all watched as you stepped up to take the shot, your face still stricken from the pain in your leg as you ran up and shot the ball dead center of the goal, scoring the winner as you celebrated by placing a finger on your lips, silencing the jeers from the chelsea fans as you hobbled back to the center of the field. the three girls watching from back home all cheered at your performance as sana kept her eyes on the screen, your smile beaming at her, proud of your success.

—

“so what now?” sana asks you through the speaker on your phone hours after the match.

“just some last minute logistical stuff with dex in the next couple of days and i think we’ll be celebrating rin’s birthday over here.”

even though you couldn’t see it, but sana pouted on the phone. with the last game of the season already done, this meant the players could enjoy their time off, especially since you’ve been worked to the bone with the team this season–sucks that you had to be hurt for a bit but that was just your luck.

“if y/n didn't get injured here we would’ve been on the next flight back home!” dex chirped as he rummaged through his bag in you and rin’s shared apartment.

“maybe if you actually set me up with proper appointment times we wouldn’t be having this conversation!”

“i’ll break your ankle more if you don’t shut up!”

“don’t make me chase you with this kitchen knife!”

sana couldn’t help but laugh at you and dex’s bickering over the phone as she hears a set of steps shuffling away as the screen switched from a call to a facetime call, knowing that it was you, she answered it instantly.

“you saw the game right?” you asked her after waving with a dumb smile on her face.

“i did, they’re always so entertaining when you play.”

“that’s because you’re watching me.”

sana sticks your tongue at you through the screen, laughing as you walk around the apartment, cleaning up a few things before packing your bags that were set neatly on your bed.

“it’s been too long sana, i can’t wait.”

“i’ve waited long enough for you.” sana delicately says as she sulks at you, your heart straining at the expression your girlfriend was giving you.

“only a matter of time, and i promise to only spend it with you.”

sana blushes as you wave goodbye in the call as you finish packing, ending it soon after as you pick up a picture frame of you and her kissing on new years eve. there was also a small polaroid on the bottom corner that you took of sana with a large drink of boba from one of your many dates, wearing those thick nerdy glasses as she looked at the drink with a stupid cute face.

“you have everything y/n?” dex asks you through the open door of your room, luggages in hand.

“i’m good to go, let's do this.”

—

you didn’t say when exactly that you’d be coming back home to sana as the only thing she could really do was wait. she didn’t think too much of the fact that you’ve been away from her for so long, not just only as a lover, but a super close friend. you who has been at her side from the very beginning, during those times during school when you and her would study together for those stupid tests that looked nothing like the study guide, the spontaneous dates she would convince you to go after school or practice, even the nights at the field when it’s just you two; the floodlights beaming down as you took out your frustrations with every kick of the ball. she just wanted one simple thing–to see you again, not through a phone screen.

little did sana know was that her prayers would be answered quite sooner than she initially thought.

it was finally summer, the heat was in full swing, the neverending rostermania of players moving to different teams, and you would be coming back home to spend the offseason for the next three to four months.

the last message that sana got from you was a simple text that said, “won’t be long now, be patient.” sana hated you being mysterious with all the cryptic messages that you were sending her. this only fed her yearning for you even more and if you weren’t within a five mile radius of her in the next few hours, she would’ve descended into madness (she has already at this point but no one else knows about this.)

while that was brewing in her mind as the thoughts kept deluding her, she kept her actions orderly as she went out of her house to grab the mail that was piling up in her box. as she held most of the worn envelopes in her hand heading back inside her house, she accidentally drops a couple, reaching down to pick up the dropped papers–stopping in her tracks as she picks up a voice behind her.

“hi.”

it was just a simple word, but she immediately recognized the person who said it. the tone in your low voice sent the hairs on the back of her neck tingling as she slowly stood up with the set of fallen papers in her other hand.

time comes to a screeching halt and god–her senses enhanced at the quick second as she turned around to see you standing on the bank of her driveway. sana had forgotten what you looked like in your casual clothes back home since she was so used to the numerous outfits you wore on a daily basis, aside from the training attire that dk would show her of you during breaks in between classes. it almost didn’t feel real that you were standing right in front of her like a dream.

she takes a step forward, then another, and then a third one as she comes charging right at you. the unintelligible noises that she makes in excitement filing your eardrums like a long lost song you rediscovered.

when she jumps at you, your hands find their rightful place on her waist as her arms loop around your neck, hugging her extremely close to you, getting those first whiffs of her vanilla shampoo scent from her dark brown hair as you kiss her cheek, pulling away to place her lips on yours, a long overdue kiss that was filled with so many messages and unrequited love that was now fulfilled as you remember the tender feeling of sana’s lips, her hands cupping your cheeks.

in that moment, the feeling of time went out of the equation as you pressed your forehead against hers, the giddy feeling overcoming you as you kept your arms wrapped around her waist and sana’s arms around your neck.

“hi.” sana says as she places her hand on your cheek, taking in your features once again as she rubs her thumb on your face.

“when did you-”

“about an hour ago. i went to see if you were home but you were sleeping.”

sana slaps your chest as you laugh at her sudden response as you yelp slightly loud for a millisecond.

“you’re an idiot.”

“shut up, you love me for it.” you respond as you wink at sana, causing her to push your face away as she breaks the hug to pick up the dropped envelopes, standing back up as you stood there with both hands in the pockets of your sweatpants as she leaned closely into your chest, still holding the mail in her arm.

you pick up a small sniffle from her as you wrap your one arm around her for another hug, comforting her as you rub her shoulder.

“everything okay?”

“yeah,” she says in between sniffles, “i just missed you a lot, that's all.”

“well i’m here now so don’t get all sad on me.” you respond with an upbeat voice as sana looks up at you, tiptoeing for another peck before she grabs onto your arm, dragging her into your house.

—

“how long are you going to stay y/n?” your mom asks you as you sit across from her on the kitchen island, sana sitting next to you as you feed sana a slice of a hardboiled egg.

“we won’t start training until early august,” you replied, “but i’m given a different timetable since they still need to check my leg for any lingering pains.”

“you always push yourself during games and it shows.”

“this was the first time in a while that i’ve dealt with injury problems.”

“i always get scared whenever someone goes in for a tackle, i can’t tell if it’s for show or you’re actually in pain.” your mom says, crossing her arms at you–flashing a pout that makes you feel bad about how you play in certain games sometimes.

“the league is physical ma, we’ve already been over this before. i know what to expect week in week out.”

sana looks at you as your attitude dips with your saddened expression. she knew that you would do anything to just play and even though it was a minor knock up on your leg, it still bummed you out because of how sudden the injury occurred. in a quick action to comfort you, she tapped on your leg, signaling the notion to give her another piece of egg as you grabbed it with your chopsticks and gave it to her.

—

“you’re so reckless with yourself.”

“what?” you ask, thrown off with sana’s sudden beration in the complacency of your health. “how can you be so careless with how you use your body during the game? she asks as you keep your eyes on the road, the scattered buildings and houses whisking through from the inside of your car.

“sana, i told you already, on the field it’s a different environment. like a battlefield of some sort. if i don’t give anything less than 120% then there’s no point in trying.”

“that doesn’t mean you should brush off your mom’s worries and mine.” she says, “i’m just saying that if you didn’t get yourself hurt, you wouldn’t have the boot and singular crutch in the first place.”

stumped by her statement, you stopped the car at an intersection (this one in particular where the traffic light was unbelievably long for no apparent reason) as you dejected a sigh despite sana’s proven point. she notices your expression, clutching your right hand from the wheel and holding it with hers, visibly worried that her words might’ve hurt you.

“sorry, i shouldn’t have said all that.”

a smile creeps through your mouth as sana apologizes. you love that about her when she would get vocal about things without having a second thought since she was the kind of person to speak her mind firsthand, that was one of the few aspects separating her from the other girls at school even before you took a romantic interest in her.

in a short second, you pressed the switch of the car, setting it to park as the light was still red. reaching over to sana’s seat pressing your lips with hers, hand clinching yours in shock as she cards her fingers between your hair and neck as the intimate kiss was shared for a few seconds, backing away as her eyes were cross-eyed, still flustered.

“it’s cute when you get all mopey, but you are right, i'll give you that.” you say as you shift back to your seat. sana lets go of your hand as your finger accidentally dips into the small pack of hot sauce from the taco’s you picked up from dex, almost getting it on the leather of your tesla.

“shit that was close.” you say as sana grabs your hand again, meticulously placing your finger on her lips as she cleans off the sauce, sucking the upper portion past your fingernail as you were completely dumbfounded with her suggestive act. she then pulls your finger out of her mouth and grabs a napkin, wiping it off before letting your hand rest between the center console and her thigh.

“um-”

“what?” sana asks as you looked at her with your mouth agape, “something wrong?”

“no.” you mutter, “nevermind, that was different that’s all.” you say as she hums, leaning back on the seat as the light finally turns green at last, still processing what sana did just now.

—

even after being apart for so long, you and sana just hit it off again as if you never left. the days and nights of the summer full of the same adventures you and her have done before, only this time it seemed like there was no end to them. from the late night walks, to cuddling on the couch watching movies, the silent moments when you’re in the room together and one of you would tap the other’s leg or arm. your mental list went on and on as more memories are made filled with so much love and warmth together with her.

you promised to spend almost all of your time with her for the summer, and you were doing exactly that. who would’ve thought that dating your best friend was the best decision you could’ve ever made. going pro in soccer was one thing, but your love for sana for more than six years was tantamount if not more than your love for the sport.

sana’s room and yours were a sacred space shared between the both of you. the conversations about teachers and assignments, the gossip with the other girls, the post match breakdowns and explanations. it always seemed like a warp into a plane of existence where you had no responsibilities, no worries, or interruptions, it was simply just you and sana together in your own little capsule without a care of someone breaking your privacy.

“y/n…..baby.”

her voice soothes all of your anxieties away as you blink your eyes open rapidly to see her looking down as you lay your head on her legs.

“sorry, just felt like closing my eyes a bit.” you explain, your voice trailing off as you set your eyes with hers, placing your hand alongside her arm patting it.

sana faintly giggles at your explanation, resting the palm of her hand on your well-toned face, her finger tracing your jawline as you adjust your head a bit for her to indulge more. feeling the well trimmed nail graze alongside your facial features almost like she’s playing the harp.

“you always look at peace when you sleep.” she says, a smile creeping through the corners of her mouth.

you hum in agreement, “i’m glad i don’t snore when i sleep so that’s also a big bonus.”

“i still find it crazy that you can be a heavy sleeper and fall asleep really fast.”

“just one of my many talents.” you respond, closing your eyes again as sana continues to rub her thumb on your cheek.

“you know we still have to go to niki’s birthday party right?”

“i know.” you mumble, “five more minutes please.” sana nods at your request as she leans down to give a light peck on your lips. “i hate that you’re so cute.” she whispers, her lips just above yours, feeling the breath from your nostrils tickling her nose.

“if you hate me then kiss me more.” you say as sana breathes out a small puff of air as she goes in for another kiss, your hand automatically finding the back of her head as it feeds her desire for you by the second. you then sit up a bit slightly, propping your elbow on her as she cups your face as you two continue to explore each other's mouths.

considering how long you’ve been away, the first couple of kisses you and sana shared when you got back were rushed, nearly saying ‘i’ve missed you’ as the room is filled with the soft smacks of lips on lips and lips on skin. you and sana weren’t in any rush to the party, so the time was taken very delicately, no urgency (yet) as you savor the temporary craving you’ve deprived yourself from.

sana’s needs could be satisfied with the simple switch in her brain to unleash that side of her, but it was only a matter of time till then as she slides your head off her legs, pulling away for a slight second, straddling your hips as you were bewildered at what she was doing.

“sana wha-” you groan as her lips are over yours again, sliding a bit down to just above your pulse point. the nerve cells are being rewired at the new sensation as you slide your hands up from her hips to her waist, stifling a moan from escaping your mouth as you feel sana’s needy lips nip your neck just a bit. you didn’t think sana could get riled up that easily (something that you could think about doing next time you and her are having a steamy makeout session) and her lips find their way back to yours before she pulls away to catch her breath.

“you did say kiss you more.” she says with half lidded eyes as you laid on the bed in a slight panic since your heart was pounding against your chest and ears.

“i think that was more than a simple kiss," you mutter, "so-"

the phone breaks the moment as sana gets off of you while you check your phone to see who called you, it was daniel.

“hey daniel, wassup?” you answer upbeat, still trying to catch your breath.

“y/n! where are you and sana? niki’s gonna be home in twenty minutes!” daniel says through the phone as you pick up tzuyu’s laugh in the background followed by dk’s laugh.

“we’ll be there in a bit, sana and i just took a nap together.” you respond, sana flashing a darted eyebrow at your lie as you shook your head at her face.

“okay cool! don’t forget to remind dex about the drinks by the way.”

“you got it. see you then.”

you hang up the phone and toss it off to the edge of the bed, sitting up to match sana’s height, priming your lips back as sana sat there feeling her lips with her fingertips after your makeout session just now.

“what are you planning?”

“i just got carried away,” she says lowly, “don’t tell me you didn’t like it.”

“of course i did, i was just surprised, that's all.” you sighed out, pouting at her as she leans forward to give a peck to your cheek leaving you smiling right after.

“okay good.” sana replies with a tempting tone as she pulls away.

“c’mon we’re gonna be late.” you say as you roll off the bed, grabbing sana by the hands to help her as you hand your hoodie to sana on the way out the door of her room.

—

“happy birthday niki!”

the entourage of friends yelled collectively surrounding him as cups were raised up in the air for the big occasion. almost everyone in the group was paired with someone regardless if they were friends or a couple, you and sana could finally join along as officially a couple while everyone took in their drinks.

niki leans forward to blow his cake, getting cheers from everyone before leaning back. shotaro and mingyu were begging niki to say a speech but before anything was said, dk pushed his head into the cake, whipped cream now all over his face as everyone was left in shock and laughing.

dk ran away somewhere in the house before niki could chase him. you, daniel, and tzuyu all had to hold the six-foot tall forward while jihyo and sana were taking pictures of the moment happening right in front of them. the party itself returned back to normal with everyone socializing in different parts of niki’s estate. sana and the rest of the girls were in the kitchen, some of the soccer peeps were in the living room playing fifa, and you stepped out to get some fresh air for a few minutes.

“how’s your ankle holding up?”

you turn to see daniel step through the sliding door before closing it, walking his way to you as you look forward to the specks of house lights scattered across the hills.

“it’s better now, i can still walk as you can clearly see.” you respond half heartedly, perking your head to the right as daniel stands next to you a little butthurt by his question.

“i still can’t believe that you get to be teammates with nadine lee!”

“it’s really not that special, i never really understood the whole youtube vlogger biz that she’s well known for. believe me, if i did that with a camera in public people would’ve thought i was crazy.”

“you can say that while brushing your shoulder, but i would totally freak out if i was in your position.” daniel huffs out defeated, hanging his head low as you pat his shoulder to comfort one of your closest friends.

“i’m beating the world at my feet here daniel, this was literally the best thing i could have going for me right now.”

“what about sana?” daniel asks as you roll your eyes at his playful question, “isn’t she also the best thing to happen to you?”

“you were there when i talked to dex about liking her four years ago, my answer to that is look at us right now.” you reply raising your left hand outward to prove your point across.

daniel smiles at your exposition to jog his memory as you smirk at your small victory. “jihyo always told me that you and her looked good together, no need to show me any more.” he says as he lightly taps your shoulder as you feel a blush creep a bit to your cheeks.

“dani! y/n!” you both turn your head to the sliding door to see jihyo leaning against it, “i’ve been looking everywhere for you guys! they’re taking pictures so if you wanna be a part of them best you come now!” she exclaims as daniel starts heading inside, you following soon after.

—

even after leaving the party, the lingering thought of you with sana earlier is pummeling the back of your head. it sparked something within and sana herself was the match.

pulling into the driveway of her house in the dark hours of the late night/early morning, nothing short of the multitudes of dates you guys have done already, you knew the routine; walk her to the door, kiss her goodnight, and make your way back to your house right after. either that, or she would invite you in to spend a little bit more time with sana before eventually carrying her to her bed, not that you mind of course when she sleeps like a literal angel in your arms.

as you help her out the door of your tesla, you loop back round the back left side of the car to grab a few things, looking up at sana who was standing there with a blank expression on her face. you backtrack to face her as you try to see what was wrong.

“you okay?” you ask, leaning down to get a closer look as she meets your eyes.

sana nods, trying to not make you worry without saying a word. even if it’s pitch black with the dim lights being the only source giving you sight outside the house, you can feel her eyes darting at you as if she’s longing for something.

“can you stay with me tonight?” she mumbles, her tone giving you a flashback when she got sick.

you pull yourself back, pondering whether it was a good idea to stay, tensing your mind as sana vividly stares at you for an answer. it’s quiet, cold, and the only thing that’s moving are both of your hearts in the dead of the night as you sharply inhale.

“are you sure? aren’t your parents-”

“they’re not home.”

you part your lips before closing them again at her response, stabbed at the fact of the possibility with her setting you up for earlier, but you weren’t so sure just yet.

“okay.” you say gently to her, lifting her chin a bit for her to get a better look at you, “let me get a change of clothes inside first.” sana simply swayed her head up and down before heading into the house.

—

somehow you’re not freaked out with doing things in the dark, believe it or not, you were accustomed to making snack runs at three in the morning when binging a netflix series trying not to make a sound that will wake your parents up. it’s no different when you’re alone with sana in her house.

as you poured yourself a glass of cold water to flush out any remaining soft drinks and food in your system, you picked up a small sound of footsteps approaching you as you catch sana on the right corner of your eye, dressed up with a pink silk pajama top with hello kitty sweats in contrast to your gray sweats and oversized washed tan colored tee, placing the empty glass on the counter after drinking.

“can’t sleep?” you ask sana as she shakes her head, again, not saying a single word to you whatsoever which was unordinary since she was talking her head off and laughing with the girls at the party just a couple hours ago.

“you’ve been awfully quiet since we left niki’s, wanna tell me what’s up?” you ask again as you watch sana put her hands behind her back, toes pointed inward as if she’s in trouble. the signals going off in your brain but you had one last trick in the bag to draw it out of her.

“something’s on your mind isn’t there.” you say, realizing the shift of positions in the conversation, using sana’s own words against her, as she glances at you placing the same fingertips on her lips as you make a few steps toward her.

“you finally caught on.” she says as you stand millimeters in front of her, looking down slightly over your towering appearance. the pressure changed not only in the kitchen but in the space between you two as well.

you place your hands just underneath her elbows, shifting her against the fridge, forcing her to look up, hands relocating to her lower back as she places both palms of her hands on your chest, face inching ever so closely to hers, hearts pumping nearly a thousand beats per minute.

“and are you gonna tell me exactly what i found out?” you mutter, lips just above hers, doing everything in your willpower to resist sana’s oozing aura that’s telling the hormones in your brain to do one simple thing.

“i think you already know.” sana whispers, inching her face a little bit upward, claiming her victory as you ultimately gave in to what she wanted all along, and she finally got it.

it’s a shock to your system, the last missing piece to the puzzle, a rational thought that’s thrown completely out the window as you press your lips to hers as sana melts at your touch. a relieving sensation fueled by temptation and need that has finally won its battle against your common sense as your lips continue to meet again and again. sana’s hands looming over your broad shoulder frame, hooking to your neck as she bites on your lower lip hard enough to draw blood.

“don’t keep me here, i can only resist you for so long.” you say, trying to calm your nerves as sana is left flustered from the assault on her lips. taking the hint, she grabs you by the hand, leading you upstairs to her room, getting entranced though every step taken until eventually reaching her bedroom.

in a swift motion, almost like humiliating a defender, you spin sana around with her back to the door, pinning her and closing the gap again with more fierceness as her hands weave their way to your hair. your hands overloading at the touching sensation of her small figure as she keeps you engaged with her lips, moving your way below to the nerve on her neck before extracting a moan from her lips, only motivating you to double down your efforts of pleasure.

sana’s arms attach themselves to the nape of your neck as you continue your work, the sounds coming out of her only increasing as the heat gradually increases. your hands swiftly unbuttoning her silk top, discarding it on the floor as you look down to your hands sliding up her waist, making her whimper at your touch.

“you’ve been waiting for this huh?” you mumble, as your hands brush over her breasts, gasps the only thing to be heard from sana as you could only laugh at her trying to come up with a response.

“please….” sana mutters barely, “more….”

“use your words baby.”

another whimper could be heard through sana’s lips as your hands slide up and down her midsection, gazing into her hooded eyes as you try to stifle a groan at your girlfriend’s state.

“don’t hold back on me.” she huskily says as you cup her face, her hands on your wrists.

you sigh out at her pleading request, placing your lips on hers again as you swoop down to her butt, picking her up and binding her against the door to keep her in place, her legs wrapping around your waist for more stability as you indulge in the difference in height with her being a few inches above you.

sana was unbelievably light under your touch, so from the door to the bed wasn’t a difficult task to pull off as you laid her down before stripping her bottoms off of her legs, leaving her barren in just her underwear with a dark spot down the middle.

“i can’t believe this is all mine for me to have.” you say, brushing your finger on her jawline, helpless to simmer down the sensation of your touch on her skin. making your way down her body, placing kisses over her boobs and stomach with the feeling of your lips on her just enough for her to completely shut down mentally as you graze over her hardened nipples, biting lightly on it as sana shrieks in full pleasure and it’s music to your ears.

you take your sweet time leaving no spot unmarked with your lips as sana continues to utter sounds aloud as you shift more and more south to her panties, sliding them off as her breaths are uneasy, almost anticipating what you were about to do to her, lightly pressing on her clit as she twitches at the new stimulus.

“y/n, i swear to fuck-”

her mind is left in disarray as you run two fingers along the outside part of her folds, teasing her as she hears the sound of the liquid she’s producing as you spread her legs a little bit wider.

“shhhh,” you coo out, “you look so good like this god it should be illegal.” sana only had one thing on her mind as you fully gave into her aching needs, slipping a finger inside, pumping ever so slowly as she groaned out a heavenly sound that blesses your ears as you kiss her leg.

“n-need,” sana cries out, “i need you more!” groaning out another sequence of sighs and moans as you continue to pump in and out of her in a stable rhythm as she tries to grab whatever she could blindly that was on the bed to keep her mind off of the thrashing motion of your hand inside her.

“keep going y/n–i i’m—ugh so good.” her head was spinning, her whole body was on fire, her walls are now an easy entrance for your fingers as she’s twitching at the thrilling experience you’re giving her. she had you wrapped around your finger leading up to this, but now you had her wrapped around yours as she finally cums on your fingers, walls clenching as her body trembled. a plethora of curses and vulgar words coming out of sana's mouth out loud, you taking pride as you reap the reward you’ve been waiting for at long last.

“fuuuuuccccck y/n.” sana croaks out as you kneel upward, pulling your fingers out of her as she calms down from her climax, legs still shaking gingerly, clearly spent as she crosses her arms over her chest, eyes closed as you lean down to pepper her with more kisses, letting sana get a taste of herself that’s left over on your tastebuds.

“you’re so pretty for me.” you say pulling away, eyes half-lidded still as she glances down at the work you just did to her. she cups your face with your hand, smiling lightly still breathless as she still can’t say anything to you.

you look down to her stomach again, smirking at her as she notices what you were going to do next.

“we’re not done yet, baby.” you say as sana looks up to the ceiling, closing her eyes as she hums out, whimpering for what’s about to happen, “i’m just getting started in ravaging you.” shifting down as you hear sana audibly shudder, pressing her legs together to tend the pestering feeling of her puffy pussy, ready for another round.

you and her were in for a long night, and it was only a matter of time that you guys would end up like this as heated groans of more wanting filled up the room once again.

—

it’s a quiet, cloudy morning when you wake up on the edge of the bed.

nestled well into sana’s back facing you, she’s still fast asleep. softly breathing as you adjust yourself with your arm over her waist, hand cupping her left boob, encapsulating the warmth as the comforter is still covered over you and her. the faint scent of coconut in her hair fills your nose as you try to shut your eyes closed, mumbling into her neck as she moves just slightly.

the silence fills the air with the occasional rise and falls of your bodies, resting after an eventful night with you still fully charged after the downright wrecking you gave to your girlfriend. fluttering your eyes open again, unable to go back to sleep as you just listened to the sweet sounds of sana’s soothing breaths.

you eventually turn over to the nightstand to grab your phone, checking the time to see that it’s only nine forty-five, noticing the string of messages from dex while you were out. you could check them later as you put your phone back where it was, only for it to vibrate in a phone call the second you put it down.

groaning at the annoying sound of your ringtone, you see that the caller id was indeed dex, you debated on whether to ignore the call, but assuming that it was something important, you had to answer.

pulling the cover off of you from your half of the bed, you sat up and grabbed your shirt, slipping it on over your topless body before putting on your sweatpants and adjusting the waistband a bit.

you look over to sana, who looked peaceful cuddling with one of the pillows wedged against the wall of her bed, leg draping over as the blanket covered her lower half of her body.

her hair was still disheveled and you put on a fresh pair of panties for her when all the hard work was done, the marks clearly present as you brushed your lips against her cheek.

"good morning baby." you mumble softly into her ear as she mummurs in the pillow responding to you as the phone vibrated once again for you to pick up the call.

“morning dex. no i just woke up, but i saw your messages.” you say, leaving the sana’s door ajar as you stepped out. sana woke up at the sound of your voice. eyes still squinted as she notices an empty space next to her. still drowsy from last night, not to mention sore–drained if you will, as she covered her face with the pillow she still held close to her.

smiling and wrapping her head around the events last night with the revelation that you and her finally fucked after so long, she listens to the faint sound of your voice outside the room in the hallway, face mushed against the pillow as she dozes off again–it’s a good saturday morning to be lazy anyway–until she hears your voice more clearly.

“what!?!? what do you mean i got a call up to play for the national team??!!!”

#twice x reader #saiiidahyunee #kpop x reader #twice imagines #sana x reader #twice sana #sana imagines #minatozaki sana #twice smut #sana smut #twice fluff

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desert-fern · 1 year

Text

A Gun Amongst Daggers - Jake “Hangman” Seresin X Fem!Navy Seal Reader

Part 6: Mark Me Down As Horny, Not Scared

Summary: When Jake meets a woman at the Hard Deck, the last thing he expects is for her to be a Navy Seal. And not just any Seal, the Commander of Seal Team 3. She’s beautiful, smart, dangerous, and everything about her just makes him want to get close. Her name? Bear. When the Seals need backup, Cyclone puts the Daggers on their radar and now, Jake has to work with Bear and her team, all the while trying to stay professional. Can he do it? Or will he end up falling for the Navy sniper and mission Commander?

*GIF is not mine, I found it on Pinterest*

A/N: This is part two to the training exercise I set up last chapter. My apologies if the beginning seems a little stilted or a little off.

MINORS DO NOT ENGAGE! 18+ ONLY. MINORS & BLOGS WITH NO AGE/EMPTY BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED.

Warnings: violence, guns, 'hostage taking', swearing, paint grenades. As usual, let me know if I missed anything :)

Word Count: 2.8k

Masterlist >> Part 5 >> Part 7

===

As she left the building to pick up her gear, Bear’s voice crackled through the radios of her teams. “Don’t be morons, have fun, and let’s show these pilots why we’re the best in the Navy. Red team ready?”

“Copy. Red team 1 ready,” Flare replied.

“Red team 2 ready.” Shrike rasped.

“Blue team ready?”

“Roger that. Blue team ready.”

Rejoining her team outside, Bear tapped Bug on the shoulder, slipping into position near the back of the group, ready to follow. Every member of the team had slid their night vision goggles into place, giving them a way to sweep the building.

Bug gave the order to breach and the doors on all four sides were yanked open, giving way to four teams of eight that entered silently.

Approaching a hallway, Bug directed two to break off and search the room on the left. They did, and when finding nothing, stuck a flag to the door, marking that it was clear. Bear and Finch broke off to do the same to the right, Finch touching Bear’s shoulder to signal that she was behind the other woman. A quick sweep turned up nothing. “Clear,” Bear muttered just loud enough to be heard. A short nod, and the two marked it off, slipping further down the hallway.

On the top floor, the pilots watched in fascination as Bear and her teams swept silently through the building marking off room after room. They watched as Bear and Finch left a room to reenter the hall down which Fireball and one of his team were sweeping. “Cross,” Bear called out, warning the others. Glances were exchanged, awe evident as they returned their focus to the projection on the wall.

Bear was getting antsy, two of four floors left to sweep and no one had run into a member of the red team. The adrenaline was pumping, and when she slipped past Finch to enter what felt like the hundredth room, she caught a flurry of movement that had her firing two blue paintballs at the perpetrator. Mouse groaned, he’d taken one to the chest, the other to the helmet, effectively marking him as dead. “Red 12 down,” he spoke into his coms.

Stepping over him, Bear continued her search, finding no one else in the room. “One down,” she spoke over coms. “Heads up.”

“Copy that Bear. Continue as planned,” Bug replied.

Finch marked the door frame but gunfire made her whip back into the room. “Siege, siege. Floor three, room 6,” she called through coms.

Bear flipped a table, pushing it close to the door, firing off a few shots before being forced to duck behind the makeshift barricade. Normally, she’d toss a flashbang or a grenade over the table, but this being a training exercise, all she was equipped with were a few large paintballs that exploded when thrown. “Get down!” she yelled to Finch, who hit the floor as Bear let the fake grenade fly. It crashed to the ground in the hall, splattering blue glow in the dark paint across the would-be attackers.

“Reds 6, 13, 4, 19, 22, 5, and 16 down,” came the crackled reply over the radio.

Stepping out from behind the table, Bear scanned the seven ‘attackers’, checking pulses. Finch provided cover as she did so, firing off a few shots down the hall, taking out another three with blue paint to the chest and helmets.

“Reds 7, 1, and 26 down.”

Standing up, Bear patted Finch on the shoulder, nodding her praise. The younger woman grinned and they swept back down the hall, continuing their search.

“Holy fuck,” Fanboy said as he watched Bear move. “This is like watching superheroes.”

Rooster nodded, forgetting that it was too dark for anyone to see him. “If this is what they’re like in training, I can see why the Seals are so fucking respected in the field.”

“Shut up!” Flare yelled from the main room. She was having way too much fun playing the bad guy and sent one of her people to point their weapon into the nook, threatening them pilots just a smidge.

“Red team 2, locations,” Shrike spoke through the radio, letting crackles fill the air. Her people were spread throughout the fourth floor, numbers 17 through 32.

“Southeast side, near room 4.”

“Northwest, room 8.”

A few more numbers were called out, as she stared at the layout in front of her, crossing off a few more numbers as the blue team advanced through the building.

“Cross!” Bug called out, ducking out of a swept room, reuniting with Bear and Finch on the third floor. “Bug advancing to four. Fireball, Raptor, Daisy report.”

“Daisy ascending to four.”

“Fireball on four. Pinned down.”

“Raptor approaching Fireball.”

“Copy, continue.” Motioning for her team to continue, Bug led them up the stairs to the fourth floor, where they were immediately fired upon by Shrike’s team. “Shit. Bug requesting back up on Southeast stairs.”

Bear and the others were taking turns firing shots out the open stairwell door. “Fuck,” Bear swore as a red paint ball zipped by her head, splattering against the wall behind her. “Cover, cover. Reloading.”

“Covering.”

Bear reloaded her weapon, peeking out to fire again, this time taking out two advancing red team members. “Red 18 down.”

“Red 20 down.”

A flurry of blue paintballs came from the opposite direction. “Daisy incoming. Bug, take cover.”

So they did. Daisy’s team swept through the attacking red team, taking out a large portion of the remaining forces. “All clear. Targets down.”

Bug poked her head out, finding Daisy right by the open door. “Appreciate it.”

“No worries. Let’s go. We have to be close.”

The two teams swept the remainder of their half, taking out a few red team members along the way. The radio crackled to life. “Raptor approaching final room. No eyes yet on hostages.”

“Copy. Bug and Daisy on the way.”

Bug crept forwards, tapping Raptor on the shoulder, signaling her presence. “Sit rep?” The man and his team were around the corner from the door in question.

“No eyes on hostages. Flare, Shrike, and what looks like five others are inside. Two by the door, one at the back of the room near a hole in the wall, and two on either side of the bosses,” Raptor reported, eyes flicking back to the monitor attached to the pin camera they had snuck under the door.

“What’s the strategy, Bug?” Bear asked. This was the challenge. What tactic would work to get them in, take down the seven remaining ‘enemies’ and save the hostages?

“Do we have any other points of entry?”

“A small window at the far end of the room. Near bad guy number three,” one of Raptor’s people spoke up. “But whatever we do might also harm the hostages.”

Bug pursed her lips. “Do we still have any flashbangs left?”

“Negative,” Daisy replied.

“I have smoke bombs left. No flashbangs though,” Finch said in a low tone.

Bug nodded. “Finch, take a few to that window. Crack it open just enough to slip them in on my signal. We’ll take the door when you do.”

Finch nodded, standing up and slipping away with a few others. Bug looked down at the monitor, guards were pacing and it looked like Flare was shouting about something.

“Bear, I’m having you lead the entry. You,” she said, pointing at a member of Raptor’s team, “Are holding the ram.”

“Copy.”

“Move out.”

Bear crept up to the door, taking her place on one side of it, while the others found their positions. She held up a closed fist, signaling them to hold their placement. Minutes later, they received the notice that Finch was in place and that the window was open, it was all up to Bug.

A quick nod was all it took. “Breach,” Bear said. The door swung open as the smoke bombs were dropped, filling the room quickly. The blue team filed into the room, holding the guards at gunpoint. Some tried to fire off a shot but were splattered across the chest with bright blue paint.

“Stay down!” Bug yelled, training her weapon on Flare, who slowly raised her hands. “Cuff her.”

Bear hurried forwards, letting her weapon drop as she stepped in behind Flare, grabbing her raised hands and zip-tying them behind her back. She nodded to Bug, who passed Flare off to someone else. The red team was shuffled out of the room and into the hall, forced to their knees with weapons trained on them.

“Hostages are through here,” Raptor called out. He stood next to the tiny room, having lifted his goggles to shine a flashlight in. “All 13 accounted for.”

“See that they’re escorted out,” Bug ordered, stepping off to question the leaders of the red team.

Bear had found the light switch. “Goggles off,” she called. “I found the lights.” Flipping them on, she walked back over to the wall. In a gentle tone, she told the Daggers “You guys are safe. They can’t hurt you anymore.”

Remembering the role on his card, Maverick spoke up. “How do we know that you aren’t just more of them?”

She nodded. “The people here are Navy Seals. We are American,” she answered calmly.

Maverick feigned hesitancy, knowing that that was his cue to try and get up. “Okay.”

“Okay, can I come in there and get you out?”

He nodded in the bright beam of the flashlight. Bear stepped into the little hiding place, with one hand extended. She grasped his palm, helping him to his feet. “I have one coming out,” she called back to the people in the room.

FAK dashed forwards, ready to help as if he were injured. “Is anyone hurt?”

Bear repeated the question to the pilots still inside. They all shook their heads. “It doesn’t appear so. They just look shaken.” Her reactions were exactly as if she were in the field, calm, quiet, yet firm.

Maverick was the first one out. His safe exit was the cue for Bob and Harvard to accept her help. They followed him out, hands being untied once in the main room.

Phoenix and Rooster were playing siblings. She would only go if Rooster left, and he would only go if she left, making the pair of them the trickiest to extricate. With more room inside, Bear stepped all the way in, crouching by Phoenix. “Are you ready to come out of here?”

“Not without my brother.”

“Okay. Who’s your brother?”

Phoenix pointed at Rooster, who was peeking out the opening into the main room. “Alright, we’ll get you both out. Okay?”

Bear motioned for Daisy to approach. “I need help with siblings. They won’t go without each other.”

Daisy nodded. She slowly approached Rooster, crouching to his level, but backed off quickly when his eyes widened at her approach. “Raptor, swap out.”

“Coming.” Raptor took Daisy’s spot, and slowly coaxed Rooster out. Seeing him leave, Phoenix stood and made her way out.

One by one, the pilots slowly left until it was just Hangman. Everyone else had broken from their roles and were chatting amongst themselves, leaving him and Bear in the tiny room. He wasn’t to leave unless proof was given, and the minimal proof that had been offered wasn’t enough to get him to leave.

Bear crouched down next to him. She spoke softly, but firmly, motioning to the dark coloured American flag on the shoulder of her uniform. He nodded once, joints popping as she helped him up and out of the room. “That’s all of them. Exercise over. I repeat, exercise over.”

Whoops and hollers broke out from the pilots. “Holy fuck!” Coyote cried. “That was so badass! You were all like…” he trailed off, ducking and dodging through invisible enemies, making Bear and the others laugh.

“Come on. Let’s get out of the uniforms, and clean up so we can get to bed. We’ll debrief tomorrow,” Bear said loudly. “Great job everyone.”

Everyone filed out of the room talking loudly. Bear brought up the rear, flipping the lights off and shutting the door as she walked back through the halls. “Teddy.”

“Hangman.”

“That was awesome,” Jake said lowly. “Like, I never doubted you, but you were incredible.”

She grinned up at him. “Thanks. I’m glad you guys had some fun.” She unclipped her helmet, tucking it under her arm.

Jake nodded, scratching the back of his neck. His mouth opened to say something, but he shut it in favor of staying quiet.

“Did you have a question?” Bear asked, looking over at the man next to her. “Because if you do, I’d be happy to answer it.”

Jake pinked a little. “Umm yeah actually.” He paused, trying to find the right words. “You and the others used ‘cross’ a lot. What does that mean?”

She grinned. “Oh that? It’s a warning to others on our team that we’re coming through a door or around a corner so we don’t get shot. It gets used a lot,” Bear explained gently. She let him walk in front of her, stopping to close a door and then continued “I’m not sure if it transfers into pilot shit, but that’s what we use it for.”

He nodded, staying unusually quiet. “I see. Okay. Thanks.” He had admired her before, but now, after this display of skill, Jake was very unsure of how to describe his feelings towards her. Bear was incredible. Her knowledge and skill made her far more dangerous than he’d originally thought and now, here he was, falling head over heels for her.

“Are you okay?” Bear asked, breaking through his thoughts. He had gone very quiet all of a sudden and it concerned her. In fact, since the exercise had ended, Jake wasn’t acting like himself. “I’d hate to think I scared you that easily.”

“You didn’t scare me,” Jake replied. His eyes fell on the large blue paint splatter in the ground and he grinned as he stepped around it. “It’s just, that whole thing,” he made a fluttering gesture with his hands around the space. “Was extremely hot and I’m seriously questioning myself.”

Bear blinked in surprise. “Oh,” she said softly. “Wait, what? You did?”

He groaned. “Yes, I did. Like I thought you were attractive before. Don’t give me that look, I know you caught me looking at least twice. But now, like I actually saw what it is you can do, and I’m not sure if it is the skill I find hot as fuck, or you,” Jake told her, risking a sideways glance at her. She looked stunned.

Bear met his gaze, biting at her lip as she tried to think of something to say to that. “Well, um. Shit. Okay, umm what do I say to that?” Hearing verbal confirmation made her heart sing and she knew that she was bright red.

“Maybe, ‘I think you’re hot too, Jake. I’ve always thought you were sexy as hell and now I just want to jump you.’ How’s that?”

She laughed, shaking her head at his antics. “You are ridiculous.”

“And you are ridiculously hot as fuck.”

Under his compliments, Bear’s face somehow got redder and she ducked her head to avoid his gaze. “If you still feel that way in a few weeks, well, I’m sure we can find some arrangement that works,” was all she could think of to say.

“Oh, I’m counting on it,” Jake said, his voice low in her ear. It sent shivers down her spine, igniting a fire in her lower stomach. “In fact, I think you will seek me out before I do.”

Willing some of her blush away, Bear just looked at him and winked. “We’ll see about that, Jake. We will see,” she purred in response. She heard him stop in his tracks behind her but Bear kept walking, leaving him standing stunned behind her. Where she found the confidence, she had no idea, but it kept her walking forwards, not risking a glance behind her.

“Fucking Christ woman,” Jake muttered. The purr to her tone sent the blood rushing from his head and he knew that the smug look on her face, combined with the sight of her ass in the tac pants and her purring tone would definitely fuel his dreams of her. And crude as it sounded, he knew that he’d have something better than any dirty photo or porn to jerk off to. “I might be in over my head.”

===

A/N: Kisses to @startrekfangirl2233 @sarahsmi13s and @dakotakazansky for taking a read through and being my biggest cheerleaders!

Taglist: @startrekfangirl2233 @sarahsmi13s @dakotakazansky @horseshoegirl @roosters-girl @lovinglyeternal @lavenderbradshaw @bobby-r2d2-floyd @bradleybeachbabe @roosterforme @twsssmlmaa @footprintsinthesxnd @fandomxpreferences @dempy @gizmodear @fighterpilothoe @iwantmyredvelvetcupcake @djs8891 @rhirhikingston @sisterslytherinog @impossiblebagelcowboyfreak @thegoddessc @sgt-barnesveins @taytaylala12 @urmom-999 @formulapierre @pinkpantheris

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billthedrake · 4 months

Text

MVP PRIZE

NOTE: This is a water sports story.

The season wasn't over, but the college football team had only the bowl game ahead. In another day or so, the players would be back on campus, getting ready with a workout and a final practice. For now, the university was quiet, dead quiet the day after Christmas, and on a dark winter evening the parking lot was empty except for a pick up truck and an SUV parked two spaces down.

"You're early," Kevin Fielding said to the quarterback, whose tall athletic body seemed bulkier now that he was bundled in his parka, shoulders hunched some to keep warm.

"Couldn't wait Coach," Brock Mullins said, his voice laughing some at how absurd he must look to the authority figure. "I've been thinking about this nonstop since Championships."

Coach Fielding nodded. He knew as much. The kid didn't even have to say. It had been in his eyes in that excited on-field celebration when they clinched the conference title. Mullins was a competitor through and through, but the incentive Coach had agreed to was every bit on his mind as much as winning the big prize.

He now fumbled with the key in the lock of the metal door to the field house. Their breath condensed in the cold night air and Kevin felt the quarterback's hand cup his meaty ass through the sweat pants.

"Not here, damnit," Coach hissed.

Brock pulled it back but was insufficiently chastised. "What, Coach? No one's around at this hour."

The man paused and looked at the jock. 22, dark haired, ruddy cheeked, handsome as fuck. Kevin had to get his head examined for carrying on an affair like this. But they don't grow quarterbacks like Mullins on trees, and they don't make young men so completely and effortlessly sexy like him either. "All right, Brock,"" he relented. "You earned the right to be a little naughty."

The QB shot him a surprised smile which turned into a leer as his wide hand went back to that muscular coach ass. When he'd started college, Brock thought he was bi, but this whirlwind thing with Coach had him realized he liked men. Real men. Older men.

Already those QB fingers were dipping beneath the waistband of Coach's sweats.

Rather than get a rebuke, Fielding exhaled an exited breath of air. He'd let Mullins call the shots WAY too much. But damnit those fingers felt nice, in their direct probing deep into Kevin's crack, and zeroing right on his hole, where Brock's index finger curled to taunt and play with the elastic assring.

"Fuck Coach... you have an amazing ass," the jock hissed quietly, maybe not worried about someone hearing, somehow. "Gonna miss this when I graduate."

"A good four months away, Mullins," Coach croaked. He liked to play gruff with the kid, but truth was he didn't know what he'd do once this stud went off to the greener pastures of the NFL.

"You're not getting romantic on me are ya, Coach?" the quarterback deflected.

Only then did Kevin notice a couple of gallon jugs next to his player's feet.

"Jesus, Brock!" he gasped.

The jock now blushed. "I just wanted to be prepared," he said, contritely. He read the look for pure fear in Coach Fielding's face. "Listen, we can call this off if you want."

Kevin gulped. "I never back away from a promise," he said. "You know that."

"Yeah, Coach," came the well trained reply.

Fielding took another look at the jugs and shook his head before opening the door and ushering Brock inside.

The player flicked on the halls lights while Coach locked up behind them. If anyone came, they could make up a plausible story. And if it wasn't plausible, people in this college town would believe anything these guys said. They were practically heroes around these parts. Across the whole damn state, even. The championship had only cemented the hero worship.

From the back, Kevin couldn't help but admire the jock. Over the last year, something had clicked. Brock carried more muscle on his tall frame and just, well, walked like a professional jock. It had taken a lot of conversations and convincing during the quarterback's freshman and sophomore years to get him to take leg strength training as seriously as the linemen on the team, but by junior year Brock realized that was part of the game too, for strength and balance alike.

Now, Mullins had an incredible bubble ass in those paper-thin jogger sweats, clenching with each stride. It was a quarterback's ass to be sure, but fuck...

They hadn't talked about how this would go down. But this was Brock's fantasy, so Kevin let him guide it. It had all sounded so crazy back in October, when after a long, almost romantic session in Coach Fielding's bed, the older man promised he'd indulge his quarterback's kinkier side if they won the big title. And if they won the BCS championship, anything was on the menu. Anything.

Kevin Fielding wouldn't have to worry about the "anything" now. Even after the team's incredible season, the team would have to content themselves for being Conference champs. But what a hell of a rush it was. First time in over a decade. Not only would this make Coach Fielding's job secure, it would certainly help in salary negotiation.

But it was about more than the money. Kevin lived and breathed football. Got a hardon for success on the field, and had since he was a tight end back in the day. He used to think he was a freak, getting sexually charged by a win, but it turns out he wasn't the only one. Hell, Mullins was right there with him.

They'd first fooled around - crossed that forbidden line between coach and player, authority figure and student - in this very shower. So it seemed fitting now that Brock was leading them back toward the shower entrance, setting down the jugs. They were gonna do this here. Brock's eyes were on his coach as they stripped down, just like they were suiting up for practice. It made Kevin feel like he was in college again, one of the guys, even if he had a bigger body now... more fit than beefy but still a middle aged body.

Objectively, Fielding knew he was a good looking masculine man. Thick head of dark hair, dark soulful eyes, trimmed beard, strong ex-jock build, masculine as fuck.

But Mullins was a Greek god of a jock, only thicker in his muscle than any ancient statue. NFL-sized muscle. Already Brock was peeling down those joggers, and Kevin's eyes widened to see that amazing long, thick bone stick up, horny as fuck.

Brocks smirked as he kicked off the sweats and faced the man. "Been holding off a few days, Coach," he said.

Fielding gulped. He always did, even a year and a half into their affair. It wasn't right that this golden boy was porn-star hung, but that QB cock was insanely long. When the kid was horny, which seemed practically all the time, Mullins neared the 10-inch mark. Not overly thick, but a regular-width, almost straight piece of jock meat.

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this," Kevin hissed as he peeled down his sweatpants. He wasn't Mullins hung, but his thick tool looked right on his thick, hairy bod.

The athlete nodded and his prick jerked. But even as he acknowledged Coach Fielding's hesitation, he felt the urgency that this just might happen. "I delivered for ya, Coach," he said, simply. Football was a team sport, and the championship belonged to everyone, but Mullins was MVP and there was no doubt their success relied on his ability and natural leadership.

"Yeah," Kevin replied, folding his clothes in a neat pile on the locker room bench. "In the shower?" he asked.

Brock cocked a grin. He picked the jugs up and followed Kevin into the tiled area.

Coach still didn't know how this was going to go down, not exactly. He watched Brock set down the water jugs and turn back to face him. The man almost chickened out, but he'd promised this to his quarterback. Moreover, the athlete was clearly excited, and the look on Brock's face made Kevin want to give this experience to the jock. Not just endure it.

"God, you're so hot, Coach," Brock said as he stepped up to Kevin and wrapped his arms around the man's solid waist. Fielding had been a quarterback in college, too, but he was much shorter, 5'11" to Brock's towering 6'6". Still, the jock pulled the man leaned down as he pulled his coach's naked body to him. They kissed, mouths parting and tongues connecting.

The make out session felt perfect to the older man, and he was so caught up in it that the first shot of warm liquid against his hair torso took him by surprise. He moaned into Brock's mouth as another jet of piss sprayed him.

"Fuck, this is so hot," the player gasped as he pulled back from the kiss. He looked down to see that thick coach muscle dripping with pale yellow drops.

Surprisingly it didn't freak Fielding out. It was just warm liquid and felt kind of pleasantly ticklish on his skin. "You holding back, Mullins?" he grinned.

Brock laughed. "It's hard to piss with a boner, Coach," he explained. "But fuck... my bladder is so full."

Kevin gulped. "Take your time, buddy."

The QB nodded. "I intend to. You're giving me my fantasy, Coach." He ran his hands up and down the older man's strong back, moving up his throwing hand to squeeze Fielding's meaty trap. "Why don't you kneel down?" he asked with clear need. "I'll get a towel for you."

Coach wished he was more turned on by this. But this was Mullins' show, his kinky fantasy. His dong was soft and thick, hanging between his hairy thighs as he knelt down on the folded towel Brock offered.

The jock meanwhile had lost only a little of his hardon. It stood out, not standing fully but long and menacing nonetheless. The slight loss of erection did the trick. The quarterback reached down and aimed his prick right at Coach Fielding's chest and let it rip.

"Jesus!" Kevin gasped as the hot spray hit his platelike chest muscle, the force making piss spray reach the bottom of his chin. He could smell it now, not acrid, but definitely salty urine.

It seemed to last an eternity, but in reality Brock's cock was bouncing up to full rigidity again. The spigot was turned off, and Kevin watched some stray drops of liquid fall from his player's cock tip. The kid really had an amazing dick.

"This is so frickin' hot," Mullins hissed as he looked down on this authority figure. He took a deep breath and added, "Close your eyes, Coach," he grunted.

"What?" Kevin asked. Not processing the request.

Brock's lust was making him impatient. "Come on, Coach. I won the fucking game. Close your eyes unless you want it to sting.

Nervous, Kevin did as asked. He clenched his eyelids tightly. Brock Mullins was a kinky fucker, more kinky than Fielding liked. But he could do this.

Brock held his monster dick and tightened his abdominal muscles to press down on his still very full bladder. The piss traveled through his urethra and shot out in a high arc that actually went well over Kevin Fielding's head until Brock pushed his prick down to hose down his coach from the forehead to the chin and back, before he unclenched his abs.

"Fuck!" the QB gasped. He'd fantasied about watersports, but this was hotter in real life even.

Kevin sensed the piss stop and opened his eyes, braving the quick sting before he refocused on his athlete. Brock had a look of excitement, but also surprise as his eyes were focused downward.

"You like this Coach," he said in in astonishment. "You're hard as a rock."

Kevin was still processing this. But Brock was right, his coach dick was very stiff between his thighs. The man felt used but in a good way, his body fur soaked with the first rounds of jock piss. It felt wild and taboo.

The man leaned up, showing off his boner to the kid. "Guess so, stud," he hissed. "Fuck!"

Brock smirked. He didn't give Coach any warning this time, but it wasn't a full piss, just a quick shot of urine he let loose. He didn't have careful aim but some splash on Kevin's chin, briefly reaching his lips.

"Jesus," the man grunted. Leave it to his star player to show him some new tricks. He looked up at Brock, their eyes connecting in shared sexual excitement. Fielding felt more than a little ashamed and a lot vulnerable. But Brock's eyes told him that the kid was into this even more that Kevin was going along with it.

Maybe the thrilled look in those hazel eyes made Kevin open to it, but as he looked up, he opened his mouth and ran his tongue along his lips. Instantly, he could taste what Brock's piss was like.

"Damn, Coach," Brock hissed. "Merry fuckin' Christmas to me."

The coach laughed as he leaned back up. "Not as bad as I feared, Mullins," he admitted.

This was beyond a dream come true for Brock. With any other man, the piss play would be hot, but having THIS man open to it was a dream come true. "Plenty more where that came from Coach," the QB said.

"I bet," Kevin said then looking over the athlete's nude torso, he asked. "You still feeling full, Brock?"

The jock nodded. "I drank a lot of water on my way over."

The man's eyes went back to that massive dick. Hard, but losing just enough of its rigidity to let loose again. He took in a deep breath. It was now or never, he decided. "Just go easy," he warned as he leaned forward and latched his lips over the tip of Brock's dick.

"Oh shit!" Brock gasped. Then, "Oh yeah..." He felt the soft tap of the man's tongue. He'd experienced coach's oral skills a lot but this was different. The quarterback worried he was gonna get too hard quick, so he just let loose with a stream before his thumb and forefinger cut off the spigot.

Kevin Fielding's dick jerked in excitement at the first contact of Brock's piss on his tongue. It wasn't that it tasted good, just the opposite. But it was the forbidden nature of the act that turned Coach on. It was a crazy intimate experience. Maybe Kevin had a kinky streak too, because he swallowed the urine and pulled off with a hungry look.

"Damn, buddy," he said, his tone almost complaining. He was a little upset that Brock had showed him he liked this, at least if it was Mullins doing the pissing.

Brock was almost hyperventilating. THIS was hands down the hottest sex of his life. The only bad thing was the quarterback might have a hard time going back to vanilla. "God, you're really fucking in to this, Coach."

Kevin felt emboldened now. He didn't answer other than to lean back to latch his mouth over that dong once more.

Brock released his pinching grip and shot another spurt into Coach's gulping mouth. It took just a few seconds for the two men to get a rhythm going, Brock easing the release of just the amount of piss that Kevin swallowed in loud gulps, each swallow turning both men on more.

Finally the flow stopped and Brock stepped back, his hardon swaying. "Too fucking horny to piss," he explained.

"You got anywhere to be, Mullins?" Kevin asked. Surprising himself, but damnit he wanted more of Brock's piss. It was a headfuck that he was enjoying.

Brock laughed. "Nah, Coach. Glad you're up for a longer session. I did NOT expect this."

"Me either, kid," Fielding laughed. His brown eyes grew more serious. "You think less of me, Mullins?"

Brock shook his head. "The opposite, man. Fuck..." The athlete wished he had a bigger vocabulary, but the swear word captured his state of mind, horned up and his mind more than a little blown. He looked down on his kneeling coach. "You really up for this, Coach?"

Kevin gulped and nodded. He watched as Brock methodically picked up one of the jugs and undid the plastic lid, popping it open and tipping up the whole thing to his mouth. It was like Mullins was at football practice on a hot August day, the way the kid gulped it down. Not all in one go, but the Coach watched half of the jug disappear down the hatch before Brock pulled it back to take a break, then resuming. The whole time, the athlete's cock was rock hard. No way was he pissing anytime soon, and both men seemed to know that when Brock finally set down the empty jug, his bladder making his lower belly swell a bit.

Piss or no, Fielding was back on that cock. Now bobbing up and down on the stick to give the kind of blow job that he knew Brock liked for longer sessions. Enough stimulation, enough pleasure, without tripping the kid's wires too quickly. The young man spread his legs and looked down on the coach fellating him.

"Can't wait to piss in your mouth again, Coach," he hissed, running his fingers in Kevin's hair, which was still damp from Brock's hosing. "Tell me we're gonna do more of this.... tell me this isn't the last time you're gonna drink my piss."

Kevin felt his heart pound. He realized this was driven by his desire for the golden boy was much as it was an innate love of watersports. But leave it to Brock to make him question that distinction. He spit out the prick and growled. "It's not going to be the last time I drink your piss."

Brock grinned and contracted his abs once more. A hard jet of pale yellow splashed right on Kevin's face.

"Fuck yes," Kevin growled. He was fucked up to get into this shit, but he now moved his head around, just as Brock was directing his stream all over from the thick hair to the mouth.

"Take it, Coach," Brock grunted. The spray stopped but as he watched Coach Fielding's mouth descend again, a beeline to that beautiful cock, Brock redoubled the pressure and pissed right into Coach's open mouth. Kevin let it pool in his mouth then gurgled it down.

Both seemed disappointed when the stream finally stopped.

"Need a break," Brock explained, apologizing. "Maybe you can suck me some."

Coach Fielding grinned. "Can definitely do that.... but you're more an ass man. Mullins."

That giant dick jerked. He knew what Coach was offering. "Yeah, I am."

Kevin had an impish look as he ran his mitt up and down that piss wet dong. "Championship MVP deserves a fuck."

"Shit..." Brock's voice was catching in his throat. The was a lot of things to navigate fooling around with his coach. Boundaries, respect... all the football stuff that could be thrown off balance by the sex. They'd tiptoes around a LOT the first year of their affair, but now had reached a good vibe. On the field or in the locker room, Coach Fielding called the shots, but in the sack, Kevin Fielding let his Golden Boy get his way.

"You got the stuff?" Brock asked. They'd experimented with a lot of lubes, and found a favorite.

"In my office," Kevin said. "You think you can take a break from the piss?"

Brock thought a half second. "I need to cum pretty bad, actually. I'm SO worked up right now."

"I can tell," Fielding grinned. He got up off the kneeling position and reached over to turn on the shower. He'd want a quick rinse not to get the remnants of Brock's piss everywhere. His player meanwhile strutted out of the shower, making his way back to Coach's office to set up. There was a spare mat they'd used to fuck before, mating right there on the floor of Coach Fielding's office.

The coach was a little contemplative as he turned off the shower. He was a little scared of himself and how out of control he'd gotten. Pissplay and fucking right here in the fieldhouse. But the naughtiness was a turn on.

No need to dry himself off, Kevin padded his way to his office, dripping on the linoleum-tiled floor on the back to the metal and glass door. He could lose his job over this, but somehow knew he wouldn't. Just as people wouldn't know Brock Mullins was a star athlete into other dudes and with a kinky side. The young man would probably make waves in the NFL and if luck and talent and hard work won out, he'd enter the pantheon of elite quarterbacks.

And if the jock ever needed a piss buddy, Kevin Fielding knew he'd take whatever booty call the younger stud made.

His big muscular body shook in that realization and he took another deep breath before opening his own office door and stepping inside.

(TO BE CONT.)

#drakestories

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daydreamgoddess14 · 10 months

Text

Hot Water

MASTERLIST

Roy Kent xF!Reader

5 Times Roy Kent ends up on your doorstep even though you know it can't keep happening.

~~~

I feel like this was dragged from me kicking and screaming. It started out just a little smutty one shot and now it's a slightly longer one. I do hope you like it, I'm not sure I do but hey ho, there's always the next one! 🙃

~~~

Well. This was really fucking inconvenient.

You’re literally laying on the bathroom floor. Underneath the fucking bath. Something, somewhere, somehow has sprung a leak and you’re resolved to fix it. You’ve even got your dad’s old toolkit out in the hope that wielding a tool might help. It hasn’t so far. It doesn’t help that you know approximately zero about plumbing. This is all just capping off a pretty fantastically awful couple of months to be honest. And although it’s a work day, and therefore your biggest problem is at the forefront of your mind, you’re going to have to forget the main reason behind your shitty time recently. Because this leak ain’t going to fix itself. You’re doing a masterful job so far - real professional. You’ve remembered to turn the stopcock off which is a big bonus. You nearly broke your hand doing it, but it’s done. You give your spanner an experimental jiggle over what looks like a loose nut, but as you do so, a spider runs over your hand. That little fucker is the catalyst for everything else. You squeal and pull your hand back, whacking first the pipe and then dropping the spanner onto your forehead. Whacking the pipe leads to the spider's little spider buddies coming out to find him, and you soon have one on its way up your arm and one in your hair. All limbs and spanner and spiders, you’re dragging yourself out from under the bath and shaking the little bastards off. Crying, of course, because what else are you meant to do when there are 3 spiders on you and you’ve just hit yourself in the face with a metal tool?

It’s already 7am, you need to be getting ready for work so there’s nothing else for it, you can shower at work. Luckily, luckily , if you head out now you should be early enough that you’d be alone there. The lads won’t be there til 9am anyway, so it’s only the staff and possibly coaches who might be there any earlier. The showers should be free. You try and give yourself a spider once over, throw on a pair of joggers and a jumper over your PJ shorts set and shove half your life in a bag. You’re only a 10 minute walk from Nelson Road so you don’t bother driving. You head straight in through the side door and shout hello to the cleaner who’s at the top of the stairs to Rebecca’s office. Passed the locker room, and into the depths between the gym and the training pitch are the showers. You put your bag on the bench and pull out a towel and some Richmond kit to wear afterwards. As one of two sports massage therapists for the team, you live in joggers and Richmond vests. Boring but functional. You’ve seen no one, heard no one, but you’re still not keen on the idea of stripping off in a men's shower room so you’re absolutely keeping the knickers on. One less area to have to cover up. You hang up the stuff you need, put away the under bath grimy stuff you’ve just taken off, and switch the shower on. Colin was not wrong about that water pressure. You’re OK. It's OK. This was the right thing to do. A scalding shower with pressure hard enough to feel like you’re being clapped on the back by The Rock sounds like bliss. While the shower heats up, you strip off (except the knickers, of course) and grab your shampoo. That little bastard spider is not leaving babies in your hair. No fucking way. As a second thought just before you get under the water spray, you switch Spotify on your phone so you can drown to the angry sounds of Olivia Rodrigo. You’re getting pretty good at the speed on Good 4 U, though sometimes scream singing it does leave you feeling like you’ve run a marathon. You’re better at the unhinged wail you can really give to ‘bloodsucker, famefucker’ on Vampire, it just hits different at the moment. The hot water hits your body and you finally relax.

~~~~~~

You wish you weren’t so outwardly affected. It was always going to go this way, you could have done more to protect your heart though - it would have saved you looking so foolish, and it would have saved a ruined friendship. That was the hardest part to deal with. You’d joined the staff under Ted Lasso and had built a great rapport with the players and the coaching staff. You considered them friends - all of them. Sure, you harboured a pretty big crush on Roy Kent, but it didn’t affect your work. You ignored those feelings, trampled over them and focused on getting on with your job. Notoriously slow to win over, he eventually became as good a friend as everyone else. The night of the West Ham game was insane. Ted was leaving, everyone was bouncing between elation over finishing second in the league and the prospects that would bring, and losing Ted. There were tears of joy and laughter one minute and tears of devastation the next. Ola’s could barely contain the emotion everyone was feeling. You’d decided to hit the road, everything was winding down anyway and the players were going on to an exclusive club which they’d invited you to as well - and you knew full well you wouldn’t have to buy a drink all night, they’d never let you do that when it was £25 for a double gin, but you didn’t want to carry the party on. You’d kissed whoever you could reach, hugged as many as you could see and air high-fived Sam from across the way. You stepped out into the late May night, it was still warm so you lingered outside with your drink while you waited for the taxi.

“Oi, how come I didn’t fucking get one?” Roy asked, stepping out to join you by the window.

“Hey, you going to the club? Get what?”

“A hug.” He nudged your shoulder.

“That’s my taxi. You always get a hug.” You slipped your arm across his back and leaned up a little to reach him better. “See you Monday.”

“You can’t go back in a taxi on your own?”

“Course I can, I always do.” You laughed, pulling open the door. He held it open while you sat in the backseat and slipped in after you.

“C’mon, I’ll make sure it gets you back ok.” You haven’t moved quite far enough along the seat so as the taxi driver rounds each corner, you're pushed further into Roy. “So everyone else gets hugs and kisses eh?”

“Only the people I could reach. Also, you just had a hug, stop complaining.” Another corner taken at a higher speed than necessary smushed you into his side. “Jesus, is this guy ready to finish or something.” He put a hand on your thigh,

“You ok?”

“Yeah fine.” The heat of his hand lit up your skin, the addition of far too many drinks made you feel flushed. You both looked at his hand on your leg and then back to each other, the streetlights illuminating you both and then sending you into darkness again. You didn’t know if it was an unconscious move or deliberate, but his thumb brushed gently in small circles on your bare skin. You’re sure he must be able to see your heart pounding through your dress. As he leans forward into you, his hand moves up just another inch and as you gasp at the sensation, he lightly kisses you.

“Here we are. That's a tenner please, love.” Roy goes for his wallet but you push his hand out of the way and hand the driver a note from your bag. He has to open the door to let you out, “you coming back in, fella?” the driver asks. He looks down at the hand which he held out to help you from the taxi to find he’s still holding it.

“No thanks, mate.” You’ve barely got the front door closed behind you before he’s pushed you up against it and kissing you with a fierceness you hadn't realised you were so desperate for. Your hands worked fast, pushing his jacket down his arms and onto the floor with a thud, and pulling him back to you by his t-shirt. The dress Keeley suggested for you is flattering, but a little more revealing than you’d usually wear. Shorter than you’d normally go for and with a low neckline too. He’s got one hand up in your hair and the other is back on your leg, halfway up the skirt while he kisses your jawline. His body presses against you and you can feel him, hard through his jeans. You bring up the leg he’s got a hand on and he hooks it over his hip, it tilts your lower body further into his and he is so close to where you need him it sends you dizzy. It's impossible to disguise the neediness of your moans and the hand that's up your skirt is moving further up to grip the fleshy soft spot between your hip and thigh.

"God, Roy -," you whine, you rock your hips towards his,

"Sure you want this?" You nod against his shoulder, "Talk to me, babe," he asks.

"Yes, yeah I'm sure," you're pulling at his t-shirt, dragging it over his head.

When he mutters "good girl," against your collarbone, you're certain you could come there and then. He traces the line of your knickers with his fingers, feeling just how ready you are for him, "fucking hell," he says, wrecked. He slips his fingers inside you and presses his thumb to your clit. He seems to know exactly what you need and just when you're at the brink, grasping for the release that's just out of reach, he kisses you. It's hot and rough and sends you right over the edge. He gives you a minute, a slightly softer kiss, but you don't need it, you only want him. Your shaking hands fumble with the button of his jeans until he takes over and does it himself, he's dug out a condom from his wallet. You're still fully clothed, still wearing the high heels that, with his help, have you at exactly the right height for him to push into you. It's everything. Everything you've fantasised about since the day you were introduced, he's the only thing that stands out from your first day at the club. In a room full of high-profile, well-paid, gorgeous footballers, he's the only one you see. He thrusts into you using your hips as leverage, the spike of your heel grazing the back of his thigh. Your hands hold fast to the back of his neck and his shoulder,

"Roy, fuck, you feel so good." Your name is reverent on his lips as he comes and on hearing, you're there too. His pace slows as his hips stutter, and your head rests in the crook of his neck while you catch your breath. All at once, he's gentle again, carefully bringing your leg back down and making sure you're steady on your feet. He looks a little sheepish as he steps back away from you, taking you hands to help you stand up away from the back of the door,

"You ok?" He asks, while you straighten your dress and pull it back down into place.

"Yep, all good. You?"

"Yeah, yeah fine." He looked like he couldn't get out of there fast enough, his hesitation and unease rubbing off on you. "I should go though,"

"Yeah, no I figured as much."

"It's just been a fucking long day, y'know?"

"I know. Lots of crazy emotions." He must have seen the look of hurt cross your face,

"Not that it was a mistake… but maybe, probably shouldn't have happened? Fuck, I'm sorry. I don't mean to be a fucking dick-,"

"I get it Roy. It was fun but it didn't mean anything." It didn't mean anything . Probably the biggest lie you've ever told and it's out of your mouth like you knew it had to be said all along.

~~~~~~~~

On Monday morning, you were all notified that Roy would be named as the new head coach for Richmond. He obviously knew beforehand, so within 36 hours you'd gone from sleeping with a colleague to sleeping with your boss, and the sudden distance and desperation to get out of your flat became clear. Along with the knowledge that it definitely could not happen again. Not that he gave the impression that he wanted it to. The following week, you took yourself on holiday for a week with some of the team and friends, just a big villa and a private beach in southern Spain. You'd relaxed, eaten your weight in fresh seafood, and consumed more sangria than you should have. All week, Instagram was full of you and your sunkissed friends having a whale of a time. You returned feeling better about yourself and ready for a few easy admin weeks before the start of the season. And then Roy had shown up at your door.

"Nice holiday?"

"Not bad… can I help you?" You're on your guard, holding the door closed against you.

"Right. Thought I should check in, see how you are?"

"As my boss, or?"

"Can I fucking come in or not?" You hold the door open but keep your arm in the way, childishly making him duck to get through. "Did the lads behave?" He asked from your kitchen.

"Oh yeah. I slept with Jan in the pool, Richard on the beach and shared a bed with Moe and Tommy all week."

"Fucking funny," he didn't look amused.

"Do I look like I'm laughing?" He did a momentary double take. "Course I'm joking. Bad enough that I've fucked the boss, isn't it? Jesus if word got around I might as well quit."

"Don't say that." He growled.

"True though isn't it? You knew, and that's why you left in such a hurry. Quick and dirty. What was it? You'd wondered what it would be like, so thought you might as well give it a go before you started the top job?" He didn't say anything. "And now you're worried that I've been off having too much fun with one of the lads? Like you have any say whatsoever?"

"No. Fuck no. You can do whatever you want."

"I know."

"See whoever you want."

"I know."

"Will you stop arguing with me on this?"

"I'm agreeing with you. Boss." Somehow, you'd managed to square up to each other like you were about to hit him. It was still a reasonably high possibility until he closed the gap and kissed you. Horny traitor that it is, your body gives in immediately. "We shouldn't do this again," you hiss as he bites your shoulder.

"So tell me to fucking stop." He grabs at your loose sleep vest and pulls it off, surprised to find you don't wear anything underneath. "And if you really do want me to stop, then you'd better tell me right fucking now." Instead, you walk him back a step to the sofa and push him to sit down. As soon as he does, you straddle him.

"Do not fucking stop." You warn him, pulling off his t-shirt. It's the same needy, desperate and hot sex that you'd both craved last time, at least this time you already know that it shouldn't be happening. The difference is that it makes it even more intense. He does the same disappearing act as last time, leaving you doubting your life choices and questioning your sanity.

~~~~~~~~

It happens again the next week. With so many people on holiday, Keeley organises a karaoke night for those who are around. It's lairy and a lot of fun, you sing a few songs including a duet with Nate. Soon, the challenge becomes choosing songs for other people. You can't even place the song Keeley has picked for you until the music kicks in, it's not until you're singing it and reading the lyrics that you realise how apt they are.

"I'm yours to keep

And I'm yours to lose

You know I'm not a bad girl

But I do bad things with you

So it goes

Come here, dressed in black now

So, so, so it goes

Scratches down your back now

So, so, so it goes"

You catch his eye as you're singing without meaning to, and it's like lighting a fire in your belly. You know it's going to happen again. You still don't make it to a bedroom. Instead, you get to your knees for him just inside your flat and this time he's the one sounding needy and desperate. You've never heard Roy Kent of all people sound so wrecked and affected. Ever giving, he's utterly confused when you reject him afterwards and send him home without letting him touch you at all.

It's this which brought him back to your door the last time, just over a month ago. You've been in a bit of a downward spiral ever since. It had been over a week since the karaoke night. Pre season training was due to start and you knew you'd be busy with rusty footballers who tried to rush their first decent stretch in weeks. You were exhausted after the first day back, your hands ached and you'd half forgotten what it was like to be on your feet all day. You're yawning your way through a takeout menu when the door goes. Once again, Roy is on your doorstep, but this time he has a bag of food with him. He brushes straight past you and into the kitchen where he manages to plate up two meals despite not knowing where anything is kept and you becoming mute.

"Why are you here?" You mumble.

"I saw the appointment list for today. Thought you'd be fucking knackered." Once you’ve finished eating, he leads you to your own bedroom where he sits you on the bed. "This ok," he asks.

You nod first, then follow up with a hushed, "Yes." He undresses you slowly, taking his time in a way he hasn't any of the other times before. He lays you back on the bed and settles between your thighs, you're in pieces even before you feel the wet slide of his tongue against your clit. He holds you down with one hand as you cant your hips towards him with a whispered "fuckkk," he gives your thigh a bite,

"Hold fucking still," you can feel him smirk against you. It doesn't take much for him to have your legs shaking, your hands are in his hair, dragging through the curls that have grown out over the summer break. You practically wail his name as you come, and if you've learned anything from the hurried, rough trysts you've had so far with Roy, it's that you definitely weren't prepared for the time he actually gets to take his time with you. He's watching you come down, boneless from your first orgasm, letting you think he's done with you before he goes back for more. By the time he's crawling back up the bed to you, the need to have his skin against yours is sinful. You can barely form full sentences, speaking only in single word requests, "clothes, more, now". He laughs, a low rumble that you feel against your ribs. He's equally as eloquent, but out to take an agonisingly long time with you. He pushes into you in long, slow strokes, his whole body weighted against yours. The closeness is both intense and intimate, and when he kisses you it feels so much like a promise your heart could break. Unlike the previous times, you don't part immediately while you both catch your breath. He shifts off you slightly but stays with his nose against your jaw and his hands coveting your body. He's the first one to say it.

"This can't keep happening."

"We both keep saying that and yet here we are again." You sit up against the headboard, mindful to cover yourself up.

"I know."

"But, you're right, we can't." You decide you need to be firmer, "I can't keep doing this." He nods and gets up to dress.

"I'm sorry." He mutters as he leaves.

~~~~~~~~

Roy is always consistently early for work. A byproduct of being awake at stupid o’clock to train Jamie, yes, but before that, he’s just always been early. Now he’s head coach, he uses the time to get the coffee going or makes sure Will is on top of everything in the boot room. Has a wander around and checks the gym or the showers for lonely socks, earbud boxes, or hats. More recently, he's just sat at his desk and moped for an extra half hour before anyone arrives and calls him out on it. Today, though, he puts the coffee on and starts in the gym where he straight away finds Isaac’s favourite sweatbands, Moe’s sunglasses, and one of Dani’s socks. It’s like picking up after a bunch of fucking kids. He dumps the loot in the middle of the locker room and carries on. He can hear singing as he gets closer to the showers and assumes that Jamie must have chosen food over cleanliness and has decided to save time by coming straight to Nelson Road after breakfast.

“Well, good for you, you look happy and healthy

Not me, if you ever cared to ask

Good for you, you're doing great out there without me, baby

Like a damn sociopath!

I've lost my mind, I've spent the night crying on the floor of my bathroom

But you're so unaffected, I really don't get it

But I guess good for you”

Yeah. That's not Jamie. But it's already too late, he'd been rounding the corner as he'd heard the singing and now, well… thank fuck you've got your back to him. He tries to back out of the room, but manages to crash into the bench and sends your phone crashing to the tiles, the music stopping abruptly. The noise has you covering as much of your body with your hands as you can while you scream like a banshee, the sound echoes off the tiles, and what the hell is the lump on your head?!

"Roy! Fuck me, turn around!" His brain manages to click into gear enough to let him do that at least, but then it goes manic on what he's just seen. Or not seen really, his memory fills in the blanks though. "Fucksake what the hell are you doing?” You’re shaking, he can hear it in your voice. He truly scared the shit out of you. “I need to finish washing my hair, can you be trusted for 5 fucking minutes if I move my hands?" You ask, a little calmer.

"I heard singing, thought it was one of the lads."

"Oh so jumping them in the shower is also fine? Don't move. I'm nearly done. Ouch, cocking shitting fuck." Your voice catches and he thinks you might be crying.

"Jesus, are you alright? I've never heard you swear like that."

"I'm fine," you reply quietly. "Hit my head." He turned quickly, too quickly for you to cover back up, "Oi!" His eyes initially went exactly where you’d expect, then they flew up to yours and didn't move, but it didn’t stop you covering yourself up with your hands again.

"Sorry, sorry, I-" he crossed the room and brought a hand up to your temple which was sporting a painful looking purple bruise. “Was it me, did you hit your head when I came in?” You shake your head with a grimace,

“No, it’s been a fucking awful morning. I just-,” he’s close enough now that he’s going to be right under the shower head in a minute, and he can see that you are close to tears. “You’re gonna get soaked. Could you just go away please?”

“Don’t worry about me,” he goes back to the bench and retrieves your phone from the floor. He has the good grace to look ashamed that the screen is smashed to bits. “Fuck, sorry.” he kicks off his sneakers and turns back to you, “turn around.”

“No, I want to be left alone. Let’s not pretend you give a shit, Roy. Just go.” He pinches the bridge of his nose. This is getting stupid.

“Of course I fucking give a shit. Please. Turn. Around. You’ve hit your head, you’re freezing cold, you-”

“Fine.” You glare, “fine.” You turn to face the wall, no idea why. It becomes clear as he comes to stand right behind you, under the stream of water.

“Head back.” You lean your head back as he asks. His height over you means he has a direct line of sight down your body so you keep your hands in place as he washes the shampoo out of your hair. He avoids the lump in your hairline far better than you did, and now you’re back under the water, you’re warming up a bit. He takes his time, and as you close your eyes, his are drawn to the path the droplets of water follow over your skin, like memories of where his mouth had been. “Did you need to do anything else?” he asks softly. You shake your head, moving your hands and arms so you can still cover yourself but also bring a hand to cover your face, trying not to cry. He reaches past you to turn the shower off. He moves away but he’s only gone long enough to get your towel from the hook. He holds it out for you and turns his head so you can move your arms and step into it. Then he leads you to the bench and pushes your shoulders gently to sit you down. He disappears and comes back a couple of minutes later with a towel for himself and another smaller one which he passes you for your hair. You use it to blot the majority of the water out of your hair, breathing in the soothing lavender softeners Will uses. He’s busy watching you but you’re staring at the floor. With your hair a little dryer, he brushes his fingers through it to move it away from the bruise and take a better look. “That looks really fucking nasty. What did you do?”

“Spanner.” You mumble. He’s not speaking so you know he’s waiting for you to elaborate. “I have a leak under the bath I was trying to fix. A spider scared me so I hit the spanner off my head while I was trying to get out and then there were like three other spiders all over me and I fucking hate spiders and… I just feel like shit.” Saying it all out loud, you realise it all sounds a bit feeble, that you’ve overreacted.

“Get dressed before you get a cold. I’ll be back in a minute. I’ll shout this time before I come in.”

~~~~~~

You don’t rush. You sit for a minute and try to gather your thoughts. Of all the people in the entire club, he was the one you’d least want to see you half naked in the shower. He’d have probably been top of the list only a month ago. You’re not even sure by this point what he actually did see, but it’s also too late to care now. It’s done so there’s no undoing it. And it's not like he hasn’t seen it all before anyway. You dry off and pull on your sweats, you’re just reaching for your Richmond t-shirt when he calls out to let you know he’s on his way back. He’s been to get changed,

“I’m fine, you might as well get back to work. Everyone will be here in a minute.” He goes to challenge you again but you just don’t have the energy. You haven’t even had a coffee yet this morning, let alone breakfast. “Please, Roy. I’m fine.” You throw your wet towel in your bag and check you’ve got everything before squeezing past him and back up to the treatment room. You avoid everyone all morning, Katie offers to go outside for training so you can stay in. She goes out just before 10am, meeting Nate in the corridor. You have to pop to the main office to sign for a delivery and when you get back, there’s a mug of coffee and a paper bag with a pastry inside on your desk, along with some painkillers. The rest of the day seems to settle down. You work your way through the list of players who need some time with you. Jan Maas is last on the list with a niggle he picked up in training that morning. You’ve got your hands high up on the back of his thigh when Roy taps on the door,

“Hey coach.” Jan mumbles from face down on the treatment bench. You manage to get your thumb right where he needs it and he lets out a low groan. Roy raises an eyebrow,

“Alright Jan. You good?”

“Yes, she’s a genius” He hops up from the bench with a big smile. “You should let me buy you a drink, to say thank you.”

“I’m fine thanks, Jan. Take it easy on your leg.” When he leaves, Roy moves to sit on the bench. He takes your wrist as you walk by him, pulling you to stand in front of him where he can check your forehead again.

"How's it feel?"

"Like I hit myself in the head with a spanner."

"Are you done?"

"For the day or generally? Because the answer is yes to both. I'm going home. I need to… not be here." Not be around you . Is the follow up you'd like to add. I can't ignore it like you can, can't just pretend I don't feel the way I do. It’s getting harder every day.

"I think you have a concussion. I'm pretty fucking sure you didn't want to vocalise those thoughts?" You go to slap your hand to your head, but he stops you just in time. "Don't make it any fucking worse." He rolls his eyes when you glare at him. The off season was so much easier. The need for contact between you both has steadily increased over the last month with the team returning. Daily meetings and progress reports on injuries old and new, the only saving grace is that he's stopped coming to you for his own recovery sessions.

"I'm going home."

"Let me drive you."

"I'd really rather you didn't. Look, I'll be fine. I'll get over it, I just need to do it in my own time." You don't wait for a response. You take your bag and leave him sitting on the treatment bench alone.

The first thing you do is fix the leak. It would be much easier if you were in the right frame of mind, which you're not, but you manage. There are no more spiders, but you end up soaked from the water left in the pipe which bursts out when you loosen rather than tighten the nut. You really don't know whether to laugh or cry from the calamity of it all. You're about to go for cry, but the doorbell goes and you're surprisingly unsurprised to see Roy. Again.

"You know, it would be a lot easier for me to get over whatever this," you motion between the two of you, "is, if you could just fuck off and leave me to it?"

"Can I come in?" You turn to let him in, looking expectantly for him to continue. His hand rubs his beard and up through his hair, cut shorter since the last time he was in your flat - the curls gone. "Fucksake. You act like this is easy for me."

"Well you make it seem like it is."

"It's not. It never fucking has been. Why do you think I kept coming back even though I knew, I knew it was a bad fucking idea?"

"You tell me? You're the one who walks out of here without a care in the world once you've got what you want?" A look of hurt flashed across his face, you knew it was a low blow, you had no idea why you'd even said it.

"Is that really what you think?" He asked quietly. You shook your head. "All this coaching job has done so far is make me fucking miserable."

"It's only been a couple of months. You'll figure it out."

"It's making me miserable because I lost you in the process. You said earlier that I shouldn't pretend to care, but I don't need to pretend. I do care. Too much, that's the fucking problem." He sighed heavily.

" We can't keep happening, you're my boss now."

"Well, I've been feeling like this a lot longer than I've been your fucking boss, and I don't regret any of it."

"Feeling what, exactly? Because if you're about to fuck up your future-"

"I love you." You close your eyes. Your head is pounding again.

"Roy, think about what you're doing -"

"Tell me you don't feel the same, and I'll go." You shake your head,

"I can't," you whisper. "I can't. I'm in love with you too." He crosses the room and cups your cheek, checking the bruise on your forehead again before he kisses you. You sigh into him, "What are we going to do?"

"I'm the boss. As long as I'm not fucking you in the treatment room, I think it'll be OK."

"That's a shame. Not even after hours?"

"Don't tempt me. Any objections to me waking you up every couple of hours to check you really don't have a concussion?"

"Depends how you plan to wake me?"

"I'm sure I'll think of something." He smiles, letting you lead him to the bedroom.

~~~~~~

FIN

#ted lasso #ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso fic #roy kent #roy kent x reader #roy kent fanfiction #roy kent fic #roy kent fluff #roy kent smut #roy kent x you #roy kent imagine

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oneshotnewbie · 3 months

Note

If you come back soon could I pretty please request an Amelia (greys) one shot where the reader is her girlfriend and is brought to the ER in critical condition as Jane Doe but as soon as Amelia sees her she’s hysterical and all she wants to is reasure and hold the readers hand! YOU WOULD MAKE MY QUARANTINE SO MUCH BETTER I LOVE YOUR WORKS SM

Authors note: So... um... I know I waited so long to post this request but... I HAVE MISSED IT IN MY INBOX FOR SO LONG AND WHEN I FOUND IT TWO DAYS AGO, I WROTE IT IMMEDIATELY! I am so sorry. I hope you're still out there somewhere recognizing your request and reading it ♥

ᕚ---ᕘ

The hustle and bustle of the emergency room echoed through the cold hallways as the double doors were pushed apart to make way for the ambulance crew and their critical patient. The vehicle's red and blue lights cast flickering shadows on the walls, while the howling sound of the approaching accident conveyed to hospital staff the urgency of the situation.

The paramedics, with serious faces and rustling uniforms, wheeled the gurney into the emergency room. An unknown woman lay on the stretcher, pale and motionless, only the shallow rise and fall of her chest showed any life. A white sheet covered her completely, and her blood-stained hair stuck damply to her forehead. The slow, monotonous beep of the portable monitor accompanied every breath.

Dr. Hunt, the emergency physician in charge, immediately rushed to the bed. His expression was professional, but the depth of his gaze betrayed some concern. The nurses and also Dr. Keppner rushed to help the team take over.

"What do we have?" Owen asked as he looked over the medical file one of the paramedics handed him. "Unknown female person, middle-aged, found unconscious in a park, presumably after an attack. Stabbed in the chest and abdomen. We cannot say any more. No identification and no indication of possible previous illnesses."

The paramedics quickly explained the course of events, how they found the patient and what first aid measures they had taken. The information was relayed with the precision of a well-trained team, but uncertainty about who the woman was and what had happened to her hung in the air.

While Hunt and Keppner began checking vital signs, the unknown woman was wheeled into an examination room. The nurses exchanged hand signals and quietly instructed each other on the next steps. The background noise is a chaotic orchestra of clanging instruments, murmuring conversations and the beeping of medical equipment.

April Keppner leaned over the patient and began a thorough examination. She checked the pupillary reaction, palpated the pulse and analyzed the respiratory rate. The monitors showed unstable readings and the two doctors' facial expressions hardened. A quick look between the two revealed that they were worried.

"We need a CT scan immediately," Owen said, turning to the nurses present. "I also want blood samples for a comprehensive analysis. Let the lab know it's urgent."

While preparations for further examinations were underway, the nurses and doctors tried to keep the unknown woman stable. An intravenous line was placed and fluids began flowing through her derm. The monitors continued to show jittery signals and the tension in the room increased.

"Call Dr. Shephard and Dr. Altmann. I want them here as quickly as possible!" He ordered as he continued to analyze the data on the screen. "And someone should inform the police. We have to find out who she is and what happened in order to prevent further damage."

The exam room was now in a coordinated state of emergency and in a room that was normally a place of rescue, the medical team battled uncertainty and a race against time to save a woman's life. He was abuzz as the neurosurgeon and cardiologist burst through the door almost simultaneously with quick steps. Their eyes were focused, the rubber of their Crocs squeaking in unison with the machines.

"Shephard, the patient is exhibiting unstable neurological signs. The CT scan and blood results are pending," she informed Hunt as he cleared the way for her to the bed.

Amelia nodded curtly and fully entered the room, closing the door behind her. A glance at the monitor and the papers on the tablet caused her eyes to flash briefly before she focused back on the patient. However, as she leaned over the lounger, she froze.

Her features slipped away, the slight smile on her lips fading as she realized who was in front of her. The woman on the lounger was none other than you. Hunt and Keppner stared at her as she noticed her reaction, not understanding why she didn't move forward with her work. "Amelia, we have a critical situation here. The patient's identity is unknown and her values are concerning. We urgently need your expertise!"

Amelia shook her head slightly, as if she could push reality away. Her heart raced as she double-checked that her eyes weren't playing tricks on her. "This is y/n. Y/n y/l/n. She's my girlfriend. Find her family, get them here!" A strangled sound escaped her throat and the world around her seemed to stand still for a moment as she processed the shock.

The emotional rollercoaster went through all the ups and downs, from worrying about you to the overwhelming need to stay in control. Her hands shook slightly as she reached for your lifeless and bloody hand.

"Y/n," Amelia whispered with a strangled sound in her voice and the two doctors and friends of the neurosurgeon were also dumbfounded, their breath catching in their throats. "What happened to you?"

Owen Hunt moved closer and tried to reassure her, while also conveying the urgency and explaining the neurological details. But Amelia only heard fragments. Her gaze was lost in your eyes, which were closed as if you were in a deep sleep.

"Amelia, I know it's hard. But we have to act immediately. The CT results are crucial and we have to find out what happened to her to prevent something worse. She could die!" April urged, concerned about her colleague's professionalism.

But Amelia couldn't let go. She ignored the two of them, her focus solely on you. The world outside the exam room seemed to fade as she held your hand tightly. "Y/n, you have to hold on. You can do this," she whispered in your ear, tears of despair welling up in her eyes. "You're strong, you know? We'll get through this together."

In her emotional despair, an internal struggle unfolded within Amelia. Her professional self fought against her personal connection to you. The shouts of other doctors and nurses became a muffled background noise as she refused to loosen her grip on your cold hand.

"Amelia," Owen Hunt spoke in a calm but firm voice. "We need you now. She needs you now. Let's find out what happened to her together.

A conflict between duty and personal pain raged within Amelia. Finally, she reluctantly gave in and removed her hand from yours. However, her gaze remained focused on you, and concern for you was reflected deep in her eyes. She struggled with fear for you as she prepared to resume her professional role as a neurosurgeon.

A deep breath flowed through her body and with a firm resolve she wiped the tears from her cheeks and turned her gaze to the surroundings. "Dr. Hunt, take her to the CT immediately. She's probably having a brain bleed." she spoke, her voice firm. The neurosurgical focus returned fully, analyzing the medical indicators.

The trauma surgeon nodded in agreement and began giving the necessary instructions, getting you up to the CT scanner. Amelia stayed at your side, letting go of your hand for a moment to oversee the diagnostic process.

The minutes that passed felt like hours. The results of the CT scan appeared on the screen, and Amelia scanned the images with a trained eye. She analyzed each region of the brain, looking for signs of bleeding, injury or other abnormalities. The intensity of her concentration was palpable, and the medical staff eagerly awaited her assessment.

"We have severe damage to the frontal lobe," Amelia explained, swallowing hard as she continued to study the images. "It looks like a severe traumatic brain injury. We need to operate immediately to relieve the pressure and prevent further damage."

The team immediately began preparing for the operation. The sterile atmosphere of the operating room seemed to embrace Amelia as her professional role took over. In her surgical uniform, surrounded by a team of experienced professionals, she struck her familiar Superman pose and focused on the procedure ahead.

During the operation, which lasted several hours, your girlfriend showed an impressive mix of calm and precision. Her hands worked in sync with the instruments as she gently treated the damaged tissue. Monitors in the operating room recorded progress, and the medical team closely followed their experienced leader's every move.

After what seemed like endless hours, but which passed like seconds, she finally closed the last stitches and the atmosphere relaxed slightly, but the uncertainty about the outcome of the operation weighed heavily on her.

Amelia let out a frustrated gasp before exiting the operating room, tearing off her gloves and hood. She immediately went to the waiting area to inform your siblings and parents. The tension in her chest eased as she saw the expectant looks of the people who were now her family and your sister immediately threw her arms around her.

"The operation is complete," Amelia began, trying to keep her voice steady as she also clung to your sister to keep her emotions at bay. "It was a complex brain injury for reasons still unknown, but I did everything I could. The next step now is to wait and hope she remains stable."

Your family breathed a sigh of relief as Amelia explained more details about the condition and cooperation with the police. Her words were reassuring to your sister, but she still felt the knot in her stomach. The outcome of the operation was uncertain, and there was no way of knowing whether you would ever wake up and be your old self again.

In the silence of the hospital hallway, as she left the waiting people behind, a moment of exhaustion overcame her. Her eyes wandered back to the exam room where she found you in. The image of you on the lounger didn't fade, but Amelia found comfort in the fact that she had saved you. Now things could only go uphill and she couldn't wait to look into your beautiful eyes again.

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satorhime · 2 years

Text

˚‧ ✰ ˓ ˖ SECRET-GO-ROUND | ˚｡ nanami kento x female reader ᨀ minors do not interact˓˓WORD COUNT ᨀ 7.8k˓˓ furueru kuchibiru!retelling, college!au, professor!nanami, uni student!reader, bratty!reader, age gap (nanami is in mid/late 30s, reader is in 20s), teacher-student relationships, carnival dates, a sprinkle of fluff 'n' angst, public sex, unprotected sex, blowjobs, exhibitionism, praise kink, quickie on a ferris wheel, creampies, money shots, sensei kink, anal play, fingering, degradation + reader is a lil manipulative. @SYNOPSIS ᨀ kento is in a secret relationship with his student, but when he loses a bet to her, he has to take her on their first date in public. @SATORHIME SAID ᨀ this is my first long fic since the spring and i'm so excited for u to read it !! (/ε＼*) i hope u babies enjoy this nasty lil piece i cooked up in my candy store MWAH !!

nanami kento is a hypocrite.

he demands professionalism and punctuality from his students and he does not believe in making mistakes that can be avoided in life. his entire day would be ruined if he walked down a sidewalk and stepped in chewing gum when he could have taken the train, yet he detests tardiness. he grimaces at late assignments, typos in emails, and clucks his tongue at mispronounced words during oral presentations, even though, out of every faculty member and student at the university, he may be the one making the biggest mistake of them all.

it's surprising because nanami conforms to the standard. he studied law because he respected the structure of rules and resonated with upholding order and justice. he takes the moral high ground above his immature colleagues who refuse to grow up even though they're well past the age of thirty. much to nanami's delight, they stopped inviting him out on weekends because he couldn't stop sneering in disgust at their conversation, threatening to report toji, satoru, and suguru after they attempted to coax him into their long running competition of letting their good looks and expensive doctorates seduce starry-eyed students into fucking them for sport; tallying up each other's scores from their game like athletes every monday morning.

but yes, nanami kento is still a hypocrite.

because he is the only one with a student walking around his apartment half-naked right now.

of course, nanami knows better than that. he barely dated through his long years of school, too focused on hanging up degree after degree in his parents’ living room to have time for anything more than a couple of flings and failed dates. and now four years into his tenure, a brilliant professor with a heap of accolades under his designer belt, he fell in love with you, his pretty little student.

he doesn’t know how it happened when the two of you are complete opposites— nanami is a jaded homebody that rejects human interaction and you are a firecracker full of energy in constant need of his attention. it wasn't even supposed to happen, but it's been a downward spiral of forbidden feelings since that one fucking evening you stayed behind after class to discuss your law research paper with him. you'd ended up hitting it off— you found nanami handsome, confident, and easy to talk to. confiding in him about your worries over getting good grades and making your family proud, and somehow that conversation ended with you being fucked over his desk for the first time. in truth, he had expected you to have your fill of a fantasy you wanted to play out and skip onto the next after that, but you didn’t seem to care about any of the other boys who looked at you around campus.

instead, you were satisfied with wriggling your way into his heart, one swish of your plush hips at a time.

you’ve wriggled your way into his home as well, peeking your head curiously into his bedroom now. you find nanami still asleep on his back— his legs tangled in the bamboo sheets and one muscled arm thrown across his handsome features, shielding his eyes from the light beams. your eyes rove over his shirtless form, the morning sun illuminating the chiseled grooves of his toned abs— catching onto the fine dusting of golden hairs over his adonis belt. though he ignores the silly effect he has on you and the other students, your professor is easily the most beautiful man on campus and you could stare at him all day.

but not right now. a pout shapes your lips in disappointment because you rarely see nanami anymore. he’s busier than ever now between classes starting back up at the university, the cases he handles at the firm, and writing his faculty book. today is the first day he’s been free in almost a month, and he plans on sleeping the entire day away? that won’t do.

you tiptoe into the room, crawling onto the pillowy mattress to straddle nanami’s narrow hips. the warm weight rouses him, but his eyes remained shut, a soft groan rumbling behind his ribcage.

“it’s too early for you to be in my lap, little love,” his voice is rough and syrupy with sleep, making you suck your bottom lip into your mouth at the sound of it— but you’re determined not to let his attractiveness ruin your plan for the day. “come on, get off.”

“well, it’s too late for you to still be in bed, damn it,” you huff, peeling his arm away from his face to cup his cheeks. you watch as horizontal lines appear in his forehead, and you hurry to continue, “today is your day off, kento-sensei. i was thinking.. maybe- let’s go out on a date!”

nanami’s café au lait eyes flicker open with a speed that startles you, fixed on your pretty face. you’re wearing his shirt and there’s a pillow mark on your cheek, hair messy from sleep. he feels his chest cave in because there’s nothing he wants more than to take you out to see the world and share your beauty with it. instead, a weary sigh exhales from his nostrils and it sounds like a declination.

“you’re going to say no, aren’t you?”

“yes, you know that we cannot be seen together. what will you do if someone recognizes one of us?”

“we’re a couple, aren’t we? why are you always so worried about someone seeing us. c’mon, kento-sensei- i want to go to the carnival that's in town. we can even wear disguises!” you try reasoning with him melodramatically, but kento simply shakes his head at your antics.

“i’m sorry, love, but there is too much at stake, for the both of us,” nanami says, squeezing your hip in apology. you frown— you hate being coddled by him.

“too much at stake? like your tenure? is that really the most important thing to you?”

“i won’t have this conversation again,” he clips sternly, propping his torso up on one elbow to narrow his sharp eyes at you. “when your classmates start rumors about you fucking me for extra credit, will going out on a date really be worth that? i’m thinking about your reputation, not mine.”

“i don’t want you to think of my reputation, i want you to treat me like your woman,” you roll your eyes. it’s always the same argument. while nanami is content to hide your relationship in shaded alcoves and apartments with the curtains drawn, you want to love him openly. to run errands with him and sit in sunny windows at cute little cafés with him— to not have to lie at sleepovers with your friends when they ask who is the one who is making you so happy.

nanami’s silence is degrading, frustration simmering up in your chest. a deeper frown twists your features as you reach for a fluffy feather pillow, gripping both ends and swinging it down— aiming right for nanami’s head.

he knocks the pillow away easily, unamused. “what are you, an infant?”

“argh, you’re so annoying. fine then, have it your way!” you grumble, but then your big doe eyes glint mischievousness in them. nanami can only watch with a lifted brow as you reach for the buttons of your (his) shirt, unbuttoning them quickly with trembling hands. your heart picks up to thump excitedly as you slip one side of the shirt apart, letting the fabric pool in the crook of your elbow— revealing pebbled nipples to your professor’s confused eyes. you gently cup one of your breasts teasingly, a minx. “let’s do it this way instead.”

“and what way is that? are you trying to bribe me, young lady?” he snorts, but his eyes flicker down to the soft swell of your breasts, the knot in his throat bobbing as he swallows.

you nibble your lip as you sit on your knees between his legs to paw the sheets covering his hips out of the way.

“obviously my bribery’s working since you’re already hard,” you tease in a saccharinely sweet voice. kento prefers sleeping in expensive silks with nothing underneath so your eyes are immediately drawn to the very visible print of his erection. you cup the bulge of his cock gently, palming it against your hand— little cunt pulsing greedily as you feel it twitch under your touch, nanami hissing under his breath.

the pit of his stomach lurches traitorously because he knows what your mushy little brain is up to— whenever he refuses to let you get your way, you’ll be reaching to hold his cock in your hand as if it is a genie that can grant all of your wishes.

one of these days, you will drive him insane.

especially when you’re humming sweetly as if you're folding laundry, hooking your thumbs under the waistband of his pajamas and tugging them down to his ankles. the heavy strain of his cock plops against his abdomen. you grab for it, marveling at how tiny your hand looks compared to it. honestly, nanami’s cock is just so fucking pretty to you that you long to tell all of your girlfriends about it— thick and weighty, a little darker than his body with a dusky tip that leaks so much. maybe you would leave out the detail that without proper preparation, his cock stretches you out painfully. tears and snot and limps in your walk whenever he fucks you.

“oh, it’s leaking,” you simper breathlessly, throat running dry.

“don’t be crass,” he scolds, but you ignore him to stare in wonderment at the way the bulbous head is drooling precum in a steady trickle, smearing over your hand as your thumb rubs against a thick vein. you go slippery, wet between the thighs at the thought of sucking it into your mouth, basking in the way his hips give a little jolt as you touch him. but other than that, he regards you with a flat look. “so what are you planning, hmm? tell me.”

“i want to make a bet with you,” you lower your face until you’re level with his crotch, opening up and lolling your cherry tongue out invitingly. nanami inhales a serrated breath as your soft lips sucks the tip of his cock into your little mouth, sampling his taste.

“how about this?” you continue, fluttering your lashes as you breathe in the masculine scent of his cock. he tastes good, sweet precum bursting over your tastebuds as you pause to swipe your tongue into the slit. you can't even wait, suckling down on the tip greedily, pausing between licks to speak. “if you can keep yourself from cumming until.. eleven ‘o clock then i’ll drop the idea of going on a date, but if you can’t… you have to take me to the street carnival. pretty please?”

he pauses to think about it for the longest, and you roll your eyes, scraping your teeth ever so lightly against the underside of his length to bring his attention back to you, earning a dirty look in reward.

“i’m offended you think i’ll lose,” he snorts, but the way his hips kick as you kitten lick over the slit of his tip makes you smile. you're already winning. “i’m an adult, little darling. i know how to control myself.”

“oh yeah?” you coo, challenging him by tilting your head down with an open mouth, warm and wet on the wide girth of nanami’s cock— drawing him in against hollowed cheeks, lathering him down in saliva that smells like mint and morning coffee. you reel back, hard on the pull up before slurping him back down in a slow mouth fuck.

he tosses his head back with a deep huff from his nostrils, hand twitching on the bed. sometimes you hate how quiet nanami is. on some nights, after he is forced to watch boys flirt with you around campus while you’re dressed in tiny little shorts and slutty little skirts, he’ll toss you on his mattress and fuck filthy lies into you about sitting you on his cock in front of all 40 students in his course and claiming you as his girl, growling in your ear until you’re splashing his sheets with cum and crying into his shoulder because you want it so bad. but during times when you’re being bratty, he never rewards your bad behavior with the praise you work on your knees for.

you briefly glance at the clock on the nightstand.

10:32 AM

“gonna cum yet, nanami-sensei?” you tease on the release, his cock slipping out of your mouth with a wet pop, glistening in your spit. you smile up at him with precum on your teeth, blinking coquettishly as you let his cock plop against his abdomen, flattening your tongue to lick long stripes up and down the length of his cock. “it’s okay if you want to let go of it, i’ll catch every last drop of your cum.”

“i’m not going to fucking cum,” nanami snaps, gritting his jaw. his eyes are narrowed and though he looks unimpressed and obstinate, he frays at the seams. “are you so hungry that you’ll eat my cum? stop this childishness and i’ll make you breakfast then.”

“mm-! that won’t work,” you giggle at his weak attempt, before sinking your mouth back down on his cock, nose buried in the sandy hairs around the base. digging your fingernails into the olive skin at his thighs when the tip of his cock bumps against your fleshy throat, gagging around him as you struggle to swallow around the thickness lodged in your throat. mouth too small to accommodate the size of his fat girth. your cheeks are so cute, too— chubby with the strain, but you’re determined, even as thick precum drools down the back of your tongue and you choke, gurgling and flexing your tongue to greedily swallow it down.

he’s always sensitive in the morning, waking up with his stiff erection pressed shamefully between your ass cheeks so you know exactly how to work him, a sweltering suction around his leaking cock. burning hot pleasure right into the pit of his gut. his fingers fist in the sheets and he looks so fucking ruined in the morning sun with his jaw slacked, neck blotchy and bursting with veins from the strain of holding off his grunts of pleasure— holding off his cum too. “j-jesus fuck, love. that’s it-”

this time, nanami is the one desperately searching for the red glare of the alarm clock, eyes wildly reading the numbers.

10:47 AM

thirteen minutes left. if he can just—

“don’t pretend you don’t feel good, kento-sensei,” you giggle as you reel back to breathe, swirling your tongue over the tip of his sticky cock. he grunts, his hips jolting desperately. “i know all of your weak spots, after all.”

the law professor bristles, panting as he glares down at you.

“don’t look at me like that… i just wanna make you feel good,” your aggressiveness isn't new to him. though usually you’re gooey in the head, on your back with legs splayed, letting him do whatever he wants to you— there are times like right now when you’re dipping further down to suck on his balls, weighty and full with cum, sending nanami’s hips into a frenzy. his hard cock slaps against your forehead as his hips jerk up, but you wrap your hand around it— pumping him quickly.

“fuck, i…”

“duh-oh, i’m running oush of time,” you mumble as you suck greedily on one of his balls, watching the clock.

10:57 AM

“what are you-”

“you liked it when i did this, right sensei?” you hum, melodic voice like a siren on a shipwrecked shore, luring him in. devilish mouth smiling sweet as you’re committing sin, lowering further to play your dirty tricks on him— spreading one of nanami’s ass cheeks apart to swirl your tongue around the rim of his hole at the same time you squeeze his cock painfully.

“d-don’t, darling. fuck… you’re going to make me-”

his reaction is immediate, a big fist twisting in your hair to shove your head away from him but it’s too late. above you, nanami punches out a grunt that sounds ruined, the spongy wetness of your tongue teasing at his puckered hole combined with your firm hand pumping his cock in a steady rhythm is too much. he loses the bet with the back of his head shoved into the pillow, thighs twitching from the shocks of pleasure as long ropes of cum splashes onto your face in white strings, dripping wet down your cheeks.

when he shoves your head away, you sit back on your heels— beaming up at him with the prettiest smile of triumph, covered in his cum.

“that’s that,” you tease, “should i wear my white or pink dress?”

“we’re only staying for a short while,” nanami announces with an exasperated sigh, even as he fastens the neon pink unlimited rides! armband around your wrist. when he finishes, you beam and hook your hand into the crook of his arm— scoping out the attractions. “where do you want to go first?”

the last day of the traveling carnival is crowded. an annual late summer tradition in your city, it never fails to draw out the numbers on weekends. lovesick couples share kisses, dining on overpriced treats. exhausted families push around strollers with wailing babies inside of them while teenagers shove each other in the queues for thrill rides, pop music blasting through the speakers. it’s a risk, the kind of location nanami would have avoided for a first official date with his student, for fuck’s sake, but he hates seeing your looks of disappointment.

he much prefers the way you look right now— drunk on the scent of buttery popcorn and sugary cotton candy— a devastating figment of his dreams, dressed in a little white chiffon sundress that whirls around your thighs with each movement. your eyes twinkling in glee behind the shades perched on your nose at the colorful tents, fast rides, and rows of sideshows.

“let’s try out one of the sideshows first?” you suggest, pointing excitedly to the striped canopy stalls lined up on one row of the carnival, adorable prizes sitting on shelves behind carnies enticing passersby to try their luck at strength tests, shooting games, hook-a-duck and skeeball for cheap prices. “you could use a win after this morning.”

“does that mouth of yours ever know how to be quiet?” nanami wonders wearily, pinching the bridge of his nose out of habit as rosy flush creeps above the collar of his shirt. “lead the way if you’re finished making fun of me.”

rolling your eyes, you tug him by the arm over to a shooting range. colorful balloons line up in many neat rows. the carnie behind the stall brightens up at new victims, his smile missing several teeth as he gestures to the game— holding up a handful of sharp darts in invitation.

“good evenin’, good evenin’ to the lovely couple! interested in trying your luck in pop-a-balloon? all ya hafta do is aim and throw. hitting five red ones in a row wins the largest prizes,” he markets, “yer fella looks like he’s got a good arm on ‘em too. whaddya say?”

“it’s an obvious scam they’re running. the red ones are the smallest,” kento points out under his breath, but you shoot a glare at him, nudging him forward. he sighs, reaching into the back pocket of his shorts to retrieve his wallet, slapping a crisp ten on the wooden counter. “fine.”

“good choice! take these darts ‘n’ give it yer best shot, buddy,” the carnie pockets the bill, handing the darts to nanami and stepping safely out of the way.

“alright, which one do you want, darling?”

“the big one,” you grin.

“of course you do,” the male purses his lips, folding up the sleeves of his shirt before he takes the darts. it’s attractive the way his forehead creases, concentration narrowing his eyes behind his green tinted sunglasses. he knows games like this are rigged, but that doesn’t stop him from carefully analyzing the balloons because you want the prize and he’ll do anything for you. it’s easy math, calculating the distance between his stance and the target wall— stretching a visual line across the tiny red balloons.

the first dart strikes out, bursting the balloon with a startling pop. you clap your hands happily in support, a greedy pang of want twinging in your lower belly as you watch his biceps ripple with the movement as the rest of the balloons bursts easily until he's out of darts— game over.

“congrats, man, y’ didn’t embarrass yer girl,” the carnie jokes, but you can tell he isn’t happy about the quick and easy win. “which one d’ you want, miss? top’s yours to choose from.”

“that one,” your eyes sparkle, pointing to the large pompompurin prize in that adorable little suit. you’re handed the fat plush that dwarfs your frame, squeezing it to your body in delight. “it looks like you, nanamin!”

“oh? should i be worried about the competition?”

“please, no one can ever replace you.”

you say it with a teasing smile, but nanami hates the way his heart stutters, even as his mind screams that he isn’t supposed to be here with you, entertaining your girlish affections, in love with you beyond repair.

but as the sun relaxes the sky into a dreamsicle orange, so does the weight on nanami’s shoulders. he still keeps his eyes sharp for familiar bodies, but he finds it harder to resist your energy— letting you take his hand to drag him around the rest of the carnival grounds to various attractions. spending his money on sticky cotton candy, powdery funnel cake and customized couple items. forcing him to accompany you on your favorite rides, too— rollercoasters and carousels and tilt-a-whirls until the two of you are dizzy and windswept.

“you looked relaxed,” you hum over the noise of thrill ride chains clanking together and carefree laughter in the background, tucked comfortably under kento’s arm as the two of you wait behind three other couples in the queue for the ferris wheel— your favorite and final stop before the date finally ends.

“i don’t have to work today,” he replies dryly, but his thin lips quirk up as if he wants to smile.

“that’s the only reason? ken, you’re so boring.”

you really have a terrible habit of not letting him finish his sentences, he thinks.

“wah, i wish we could do this everyday!” you cheer, cuddled up against nanami’s warm side as the ferris wheel begins to move, ascending higher into the sky as the large capsules sway in the breeze calmly.

nanami simply nods in reply as he stares out of the window of the enclosed gondola, the giant pompompurin he won for you balanced comically on one of his knees. the view is breathtaking from up here. people strolling around the carnival grow smaller, the winking lights on top of the tents nothing more than tiny fireflies in the late summer night from this height. so high above the world who would judge you, it’s easy to forget decorum and feel like a normal couple.

it even has kento completely at ease, sighing peacefully and believing that nothing could ruin the peaceful moment of bliss between the two of you up here—

until the ride jeers and jolts to a hard stop, swinging the capsules violently.

you hear a crackling noise from the speaker attached to one of the beams.

“attention all ride passengers!” the teenager operating the ride speaks into the staticky intercom with mildly contained panic. “we’re experiencing a malfunction and will have the ride working after a short while. please remain seated and do not open your capsule door. thank you!”

“just grand,” nanami purses his lips in disapproval before his eyes slide over to you, reaching over to draw you closer. “are you alright?”

but where he expects to be met with your apprehension, your answering smile is a twinkling constellation of giddiness and opportunity. after all, how could you be afraid when you’re stuck at the top of the world with the most attractive man born into it? looking at him right now means thinking of nothing else anyway. he looks good out of a suit with the outdoors on him— hair mussed up and sweat staining his pristine white linen shirt. you think about earlier today when you whined at him about lacking romance until he agreed to eat cotton candy from your fingertips, melted sugar crusted against your digits as nanami licked and suckled obscenely on purpose until your panties were embarrassingly damp.

knowing this date out in the open with him will likely be your last, you plan on making the best of it until the very end.

“h-hey, sensei?” you call for him, warmth blooming over your cheeks at the sudden idea pushing to the forefront of your mind.

“mhm?”

“didn’t seeing me in this pretty dress today make you want to fuck me?”

“don’t flatter yourself, darling,” he replies flippantly, but you don’t miss the sharp intake of breath that rattles through the quiet gondola that betrays his answer. you looked like an angel of sin the entire day in your little white dress. how many times did that fucking hem flutter above your thighs in the wind as you carelessly bounced around, giving him a flash of your cotton panties? how many times did he have to yank it down before another man got a look at his girl— “i hardly noticed it.”

“i could show you now,” you hum softly, never satiated. you rest your chin on his shoulder, fingers playing along the top of his thigh. “you could fuck me right here and no one would know. we’ll be here for a while…”

“you force me to come on this date with you during my day off, now you want sex too? you’ve been hanging around frat boys too much,” he deadpans, but his cock twitches in traitorous interest against his inner thigh at your nasty little proposition. it’s hardly appropriate and he shouldn’t allow you to crawl onto your knees and plop right into his lap, but nanami can never find the willpower to deny you whenever you desire something that he can provide. “need i remind you that we’re in public? what are you-”

“don’t be mean to me, sensei. i didn’t get to cum this morning, you know,” you whine childishly with a blubbery pout to goad him. you’ve always been insatiable and greedy, the simple thought of being stuck at the top of a ferris wheel with nothing else to do but wait to be rescued swirling a lusted ache into your cunt for him, needy and pulsing.

“if we would’ve stayed home per my suggestion, i would’ve taken care of this here,” he tuts, his voice clipped and hard as he gestures to the way you’re already squirming against his thigh. “you just can’t wait for me, can you? even after class, you always have to sit on my cock before we get home. what am i going to do with you?”

“i-i can’t help it,” you bundle the hem of your dress against your hips as you lean back, the center of your panties soaked and sticky wet between your puffy lips. he can’t see the damp patch waiting there for him, but he can feel it. wetting the cloth of his shorts down where you squirm and wriggle. the lights on the beams of the ferris wheel rotate into the gondola, flashing neon rainbows across your and nanami’s features in the quiet dark, allowing you to see the way his honey brown eyes darken to black.

“stop thinking so much for once and pass the time with me,” you continue, purring the words against his neck. you move closer, your breasts pressed up against the damp linen of his shirt as you run your tongue over the sharp cut of his jawline, inhaling the spicy scent of his sweat and tom ford aftershave. your next move is the last bit of convincing he needs, fingers slipping between the gap of your bodies to palm the fat line of his growing erection. “y-you’ll fuck me, right nanami?”

nanami grits his teeth as he feels his cock thicken in arousal, staving off a groan. his fingertips itch with the desire to touch you. he doesn’t know what has the biggest affect on him right now— the high altitude, the memory of your cute little throat struggling to swallow around him first thing in the morning, or just you in general. wearing a sundress shorter than some of his work shirts and begging him to fuck you on a ferris wheel.

“come here, pretty little thing,” nanami murmurs huskily, squishing his big fingers into your soft cheeks to draw your lips to his for a kiss. he never fails to make stars bust behind your eyelids when he touches you— bold and bratty until you’ve gotten your way and he’s in the lead, letting you squirm on his lap. your cunt gushes at the kiss alone, warm and wet and forbidden as nanami tongues over your bottom lip— sucking it into his mouth, kissing you to a swell until you open for him obediently and he’s fully in control. searing licks of his tongue as he explores you.

the kiss is sloppy, just how you like it. challenging a clean-cut man like nanami who lives by the book into swallowing your soft whines and moans, into swapping strings of bubbly spit that tastes like cotton candy and caramel apples.

“you’re so messy, even in public,” he chides, breaking the kiss to give you room to breathe but you chase it, nipping his upper lip with your teeth hard, nanami grunting low in his chest before you soothe the sting with your tongue. he pinches your chin between his fingers, twisting your head to the side to redirect his mouth to your neck. he knows better, but you cloud his judgment— murk up the waters of his mind as he fastens his lips onto a spot against your neck, suckling at the skin until the capillaries burst and his mark blooms slow.

“o-oh-”

“you’re even messier down here, aren’t you? filthy girl, how long have you been this wet?” he groans lecherously, fitting a hand between your spread legs and his thigh so he can twist the front of your ruined cotton panties against his fist, drawing them upwards so the damp fabric wedges painfully against the seam of your unused cunt.

“that h-hurts, ken,” you whine, but it whispers off into a blissful sigh as nanami shifts the fabric, rubbing raw against your slit. with his free hand, he tugs the sweetheart neckline of your dress to press wet kisses over your chest with a hum.

“i’ve got you, darling. i’ll take care of it- make it all better,” he promises, and just as he’s about to jerk your panties to the side and put his fingers on your pussy, the intercom crackles in a tinny screech—

the two of you startle, chests heaving breathlessly and hearts thumping tandemly in erratic rhythms.

“attention all ride passengers,” the voice is unfamiliar, clearing their throats before continuing, “the ride will be back in working condition in an estimate of thirty minutes. thank you for your patience and we apologize for the inconvenience.”

thirty minutes.

“n-nanami-sensei, h-hurry up! please, before-” you whisper out in a frantic breath, fumbling for the loops of his belt to unbuckle it.

“hush, i promised i would take care of it,” he grunts, as unhurried as ever as he swoops his head down and fastens his lips around your nipple over the material of your sundress, suckling the bud until he feels it peak against his tongue, until the fabric is soaked in his spit and your pussy clenches hungrily in need. he nibbles at the bud, torturing you— pinching it between his teeth, bringing irritated tears to your eyes at the little twinges of pain. “alright now. i want you to take my cock out and rub it through your messy little slit, can you do that for me?”

“can i sit on it?” you flutter your glistening eyelashes at him as he reels back, leaning against the bench of the capsule, letting you twiddle the buttons of his shirt apart first— revealing golden skin and the ripples of his washboard abs before you continue, sliding the zipper down on his shorts. kento’s cock is fully hard when you draw it against your palm, warm and twitching when you squeeze it experimentally.

“what did i teach you? haste is the enemy of quality.”

“god, y… you’re so annoying,” the gondola is too dark to see, but you know what it looks like from memory alone. his cock bounces between the two of you, slapping against your belly button, the mushroom tip leaking foggy droplets down the thick shaft. your tongue feels like cotton in your mouth as you wrap your fingers around it firmly, spreading tacky precum as you pump him slowly.

he tugs your panties to one side as you lift up just a little, letting nanami’s cock bend along the line of his thigh— long and hard under your ass when you sit down against it. he knows that the two of you are running out of time; he can’t tease you like he does at home or in his office after hours, boring you with philosophical quotes or quizzing you with topics you don’t pay attention to in his class and forcing you to sit on his cock for hours when you answer incorrectly. drool floods your mouth at the delicious friction as you hump your pussy over his cock desperately, wetting him down in strings of slick; your puffy clit rubbing against the flared head, but it's not enough.

“n-nanami-sensei, c-c’mon, this isn’t fair-” you pant into the crook of his neck, oversensitive and strung out, swiveling your hips in a slow circle, grinding your clit down hard until it feels sore.

“what isn’t fair, little darling?” nanami chuckles in amusement, but he sounds like ruination, voice gravel on stone. he slips the straps of your sundress from your shoulders to press kisses to your heated skin. he forces the fabric down further, just until one of your nipples are exposed and he can wrap his lips around the bare skin, suckling it against his tongue. he drags his cock away from your folds, slapping it hard against the coarse curls at your mound. “you think i'm unfair because you want my cock inside you around all of these people and i won't give it to you? when will you ever learn propriety, hmm?”

“n-not ‘til you fuck it into me, kento-sensei,” is your petulant response, gripping the skirt of your sundress dress until the skin of your knuckles feel taut. it’s unfair that he makes fun of how much you want him, it's unfair that he has all of that cock but he won't let you fuck yourself on it, it's unfair but you let it happen— wriggling in anticipation, letting him slap the tip of his cock against your clit and tease you out as you moan for it dumbly. “wanna sit on it your cock so i can learn something!”

“why do you think you deserve it?”

the effect he has on you is dangerous. maybe you’re naïve and reckless with your heart, the dewy-eyed college girl helplessly in love with her professor— but no one has ever made you feel the way that he does, not the shitty frat boys or snobby trust fund babies that chase your cute smile and pretty skirts at parties and in hallways. while he thinks you’re using him to fulfill a fantasy, you’re simply unable to convey your feelings into actual words. it’s more than just wanting to fuck him because you’re good at it and it feels good. instead, it’s because when his cock is stretching you out, the two of you joined in the most intimate way possible, it’s forbidden words left unsaid. you deserve him because you lo—

“buh-..’cause you always gimme what i want?” is how you choose to respond instead.

“incorrect answer as always, brat,” he scolds, reaching around to deliver a punishing slap to your ass, making you cough out a yelp. “sit on me, even though you don’t deserve it.”

oh.

you glance out of the window behind kento’s head. it’s too dark to see inside of the other stranded gondolas below you, but you wonder if they can see you. if the other couples are watching as you lean up on sore knees, smearing his precum along your folds as his cock swipes through your slit until the fat head catches on your entrance and you hear him hiss.

your heart thuds painfully against your ribs, the familiar feeling of delicious fear at the sheer size of your professor’s cock setting an ache in your belly. you widen your thighs, your knees scratching against the rough material of the bench as you reach down to spread one of side of your folds apart, opening yourself for him. but as you plan to sink down slowly, carefully, the ferris wheel suddenly rocks, spearing you down too fucking quick on the blunt head of his cock—

“w-wait, k-kento-sensei-!” your abrupt shriek rings out in the silence as you scramble desperately to wrap your arms around his neck for support. glassy tears spring hot to the corner of your eyes, the stretch making your sore cunt flutter around him tight and desperate as your knees try to snap shut against his hips uselessly. you try to hold yourself from sliding down on him any further until you're ready for it, but you’re so fucking wet that your pussy greedily sucks in the rest of his inches and your thighs give up against the strain, weight forcing you down to sit flush against his lap— jutting his cock up against your womb with a deep twinge.

“take it easy, darling girl,” he bites out behind clenched teeth as his head tosses back against the window, his groan vibrating against your bodies. fingers digging deep into the soft skin of your hips at the intrusion, the sensation of your pussy sinking down on his cock is too much— breaking him out into a cold sweat, feverish. you're so small, tightening around him until he feels like choking. his calloused hand tries to rub soothingly over the soft dimples of your lower back, but he’s just as fucked out as you.

“i-i can’t-!” you cry out, trembling in his arms and clinging to him hopelessly, snot bubbling in your nose and mascara staining your cheeks. you shift experimentally and you feel your stomach lurch with a wet gasp punching from your lips, but there’s no real time to get used to the stretch of his cock inside of you and you know it— not when the mechanics are close to fixing up the broken ride. “n-nanami-”

“you can do it, love,” he coos, kissing the temple of your sweaty forehead with the tender care you deserve for trying to accommodate his fat girth. he rewards you by fanning his hand over your belly, thumb dropping upside down to rub through your folds, fucking it over your swollen clit in squishy circles. “show me how well this pussy can take me.”

you nod dumbly, the pleasure singeing your nerves raw as you shakily lift out of his lap before sinking again, his cock disappearing against your gummy walls with a thick push that squelches lewdly on the draw in. it’s overwhelming and so fucking good, your hand slapping against the window behind his head for leverage— leaving a print in the condensation. “eugh- f-fuck, kento-”

there’s a different kind of stroke to a cock when you’re not allowed to have it. sweet punishment for your sins because you aren’t supposed to be here with your professor, fucking him at all, let alone in public. forced to settle for short, deep drops of your hips instead of bouncing high and spreading it out— keeping him snug against your cervix in order not to rock the capsule too much. it’s messy and your cunt loves it, slick spreading along your thighs, gushing down the length of nanami’s cock.

“ah, look at you. you love this, don’t you? you wish someone would see. it’s like you want to get caught so everyone will know who this cunt makes the sweetest sounds for,” nanami rasps out, thumbing your clit faster now, leaving his fingerprints under the hood of the sore nub. he widens his stance, spreading his feet apart to force you to sink deeper into his lap— hard jostles, your ass cheeks slapping down lewdly against his balls. your back arches so prettily for him that he can’t help but grasp one of your tits into his hand, bringing it to his mouth to taste the salty skin on his tongue.

“i-i love it-! i love it s’much, kento-sensei. love you s‘much-!” you sob loudly, burning with the affection his cock fucks against your nerves. you’re drunk on the pleasure, too much dopamine twinkling in your brain to realize the weight of your confession, but kento does. heart sputtering and swells inside his chest cavity because you sound like you mean it— cock thickening inside of you.

“fuck- fucking love you too, my darling girl.”

the desperate rhythm of your fucking upsets the gondola, rocking it slightly, and kento loses ground— his teeth catching your nipple in a pinch that makes you fuck down on him harder. the pain combined with the pleasure of his cock dragging in and out of your cunt dizzyingly sweet. he soothes over the sting with a gentle suck of his mouth and you squirm with a whine, gushing around him even more, your sticky cream foaming around the base of his cock in a squishy ring that aids your slide.

“we are terribly sorry for the inconvenience, folks. the ride appears to be fully operational now and we will begin unloading passengers now!”

the intercom announces loudly as the engine of the ride cranks up on the ground, the flashing lights shining into the gondola once again. you don’t even pay attention to the bright beams, eyes rolled back and and head too full of cum to notice so kento quickly clamps his hand over the back of your head and forces it down against his shoulder to hide your silhouette in the window.

“no- don’t wan’ get off yet. i-i’m so close… wanna cum on your cock so bad!”

“what are you going to do if we reach the bottom of the ferris wheel doing this?” he pants, his hands pressing searing bruises into the curve of your hips as he lifts you effortlessly up and down his cock, breaching your soaked cunt with powerful, deep fucks that leaves you ruined.

“a-are you scared of getting caught, nanami-sensei?” you whine, shifting against his strong hold, drooling against his shoulder as you moan loudly. nanami answers by bucking his hips off the bench hard, letting the devastating drops of your hips be met with hard snaps of his own.

“hush, filthy girl. you’re so fucking loud,” he hisses, his hand leaving your hip to stuff three fingers into your mouth, clacking against your teeth with the movement. “suck them or do you want someone to hear us and stop you from cumming?”

by the time the ferris wheel begins to descend, your mind is lost to the pleasure nanami fucks into your pussy. your exhausted fingers rub furiously at your puffy clit as you bounce frantically on your professor’s drenched cock, letting the fat cockhead bully that spongy sweet spot nestled along your walls repeatedly until you’re wailing even louder, the sound barely muffled by nanami’s thick fingers.

it’s so fucking good that neither one of you care about getting caught any longer, consequences be damned. the musky scent of sex permeates the tight air, the capsule rocks violently with your sloppy movements. and how could you care about anything else when nanami grips your hair and hisses into your ear, once and for all, “cum for me, you little slut,”

“uhuh, k-kento-sensei ‘m gonna cum for y-you-! jus’ for you-!” you promise with a cry, swallowing his cock down with greedy bounces of your cunt to his lap— thighs trembling violently, eyes crossing up, blurring your vision with tears as you fuck lewdly. your nails scratch down the window desperately as kento takes over and rubs his fingers through your slit, hooking his middle finger into your cunt alongside his cock, stretching you out even further while his thumb is back to rubbing into your clit again. sharp shocks of pleasure in that final movement that burns through your veins, throwing you over the edge.

“give me one, little love- give me one right here, let me feel you-”

you’re wailing too fucking loud, but he doesn’t dare stop you, not when you’re this breathtaking. trembling in his lap as the knot in your lower belly bursts wide open, knees clacking against his hips as your orgasm curls your toes, washing you down with white hot pleasure. you cling to nanami’s neck desperately, cunt expanding as overstimulation sets in and you splash juices against his shorts and the hem of your sundress with so much force that his cock slips out with a wet squelch, until you quickly push it back in with a gasp.

“h-hah, oh god-!” you squeal, writhing all over his lap, cunt still pulsing and clamping around him. kento swears and you know that he’s close too, doing your best to give him a few more weak drops of your cunt on his cock. his muscles tighten and he cums with a long guttural groan that he buries against the sweaty skin of your neck, spurting thick globs of warm seed right up against your womb just as your gondola reaches the bottom of the ferris wheel—

“f-fuck, darling. get off- get the fuck up right now-”

you quickly climb off of kento’s lap on gummy legs, his cum pooling against your cotton panties and trickling messily down your inner thigh. you wipe your thighs on the hem of your ruined dress as kento calmly tucks his dripping cock back into his shorts before buttoning his wrinkled shirt up with an air of easy sophistication, as if he just didn’t fuck his student dirty on a ferris wheel, as if your squirt isn't soaked into his shorts and dripping onto his shoes.

“come here, you,” he beckons, reaching for you to tenderly wipe your tear stained cheeks with his shirt, clearing up the smudges of mascara. “there.”

you smile at him blearily just as the door to the gondola opens. the ride operators take in your disheveled appearances, but round it up to an hour of being stranded at the top of a thrill ride. what were they going to say, anyway? miss, why is that man's cum leaking down your leg?

nanami is casual, holding his head high and exiting first with your pompompurin plush while you follow behind him shyly, his arm wrapping around your waist to hoist you down from the gondola. he knows that the limp in your walk will be too obvious— you’re always so sore after he fucks you— so he kneels down on the platform, letting you climb onto his back to be carried.

the carnival is deserted now. rides that once blasted the summer’s top hits have been shut down, sideshows boarded up for the night, and fairgoers who filled the streets have gone home by the time you and nanami make your way towards the exit, avoiding the makeshift emergency triage to the left checking on passengers of the ferris wheel even though no one was injured. but maybe you needed to let them check your heart and diagnose why you selfishly forced nanami into hanging out with you on his only day off, why you confessed to loving your professor while you were bouncing on his cock—

why you meant every word you said to him.

“say, kento,” you call sleepily, one cheek smushed against his shoulder as your head lolls cutely against it. you hear him hum for you to continue, shifting your weight evenly as he walks out of the carnival grounds and towards the parking lot. a lump forms at the base of your throat, and you hate how vulnerable and weak you sound. “i’m sorry for dragging you out here today on your day off. you must be annoyed with me, right?”

“don’t be foolish,” his voice is back to that endearing monotone, but he gives your thighs a soft squeeze as he strolls, pressing the key finder to his mercedes once you reach the parking lot to locate it. he's been an idiot the entire time, hiding you away like he has. “i’m off next saturday too so let’s go out on a date again.”

˚‧ ✰ hottest students in nanami's class: @tobiodose, @lawscorazon, @fushisslut, @danibby, @hanmas, @atsumeii, @venusflytrapstar, @sheerxfiction, @sintiva, @getosbunny, @tonaken, @sailewhoremoon !!

#nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami smut #nanami kento smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #nanami kento imagines #jujutsu kaisen imagines

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l00rem · 4 months

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Imo, this is the most telling/concerning line of the explorers

As we’ve seen, the environment of Explorers is incredibly toxic. 3/4 of the other admins have each insulted or taken shots at Amethio somehow. And it looks like this is nothing new, it’s horrible how Conia’s reaction to him being in a room alone with them is ‘oh god i hope he’s okay’. Amethio is a minor, he’s in a room full of people who seem to all be much older than him and ,in complete contrast to Liko’s situation, they all belittle him and insult him for every little mistake. It’s really upsetting how the only two people who have any sort of concern for him are his underlings- but Conia and Zir are absolutely powerless to really do anything about this. As much as they care about him, I don’t think Amethio would even be able to allow himself to be proper vulnerable around them. He’s already having to constantly prove himself, so how could he do something as unprofessional as spilling his worries to his underlings? It seems the only one he’s comfortable being open with is Ceruledge, but once again there is very little it can do to help him.

Then there’s Hamber. I’ve seen a few people give him the benefit of the doubt, especially because of episode 34 where it looks like he’s taken a shine to Amethio. But don’t let his fake concern fool you.

All i see here is basic professionalism, like he’s reading what he has to say off a script. He doesn’t actually mean what he’s saying: we’ve seen how high the Explorers expectations are, I mean just look at how much Amethio is overexerting himself in the second op, surprise surprise Hamber is sitting back and merely watching despite his earlier comment of not straining yourself. Not to mention, the moment things start going well for Amethio, Hamber immediately undermines his agency by going with Sango and Onyx to sort things out personally. Like no wonder Amethio seems to be triggered by not being taken seriously when this is how his (employers? guardians? idk) treat him!

He’s also got soooo many red flags! The biggest being when Sango half-heartedly refuses orders, to which he responds:

Literally physically intimidating her! And her reaction raises even more red flags, despite her happy demeanour the way she instantly complies is very telling that this isn’t the first time Hamber’s resorted to such threats… and this is the same environment a 16ish old is being raised in!

Maybe it’s just the amount of pressure he was putting on himself, but look how stressed and low-key terrified Amethio looks when fighting Hamber!!

And even if we want to make the case that maybe Amethio is this special exception for Hamber and that he’s got a soft spot for him… he is ultimately still complicit in grooming Amethio into this shady organisation. Episode 34 even reveals that Hamber was the one who trained Amethio, which also fuels the idea that he might have been some random child they find and realised how easily they could manipulate him into becoming the perfect loyal admin. Well i personally subscribe to the Amethio is an orphan theory rather than Gibeons son, especially considering that comment about Gibeon ‘awakening’, Idk if Gibeon is even properly alive.

Btw if you’re interested in further exploration in what I’ve discussed in this post allow me to shamelessly plug my fic that finished recently. It delves into the shadiness of Explorers and how really fucked up Amethio’s situation is! https://archiveofourown.org/works/52757629

It’s kinda weird how we’ve gone from ‘haha look at team Rocket blast off again aren’t they so wacky?’ to literal child grooming. I’m all for the serious themes tho.

Tldr: Hamber deserves to be pushed down a flight of stairs, Amethio needs so much therapy.

#pokemon horizons #amethio #anipoke #pokemon hamber #pokemon explorers #pokemon conia #Now if only Horizons would give us more than 5 mins of amethio everytime he’s on screen #Manifesting an episode that focuses on him for the entire runtime #Pls don’t make me wait 15 weeks to see him again #tw child grooming mentioned

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writeforfandoms · 10 months

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Warrior Song 8

Find the series masterlist

Again: playing fast and loose with canon. Noteably with AIs and how they operate or don’t operate over distances. Also, I am not a medical professional, so y’know. Keep that in mind.

We hit our first major road bump since the fall of the Infinity.

Warnings: violence, blood, questionable medical advice, swearing, some lack of self-value, Feelings, sweetness at the end.

Word count: 2.7k

The next few days were quiet. Eventually, you had gone back to the Pelican, Fernando had apologized, and the lot of you had gone on your way to the next clue.

Nobody brought up the cuddle pollen again.

“Anything new?” you asked Joy idly. The AI had connected to your tablet to help keep track of things in multiple places at once, so you’d taken her along with you to gather up water. The stream you’d tested was clear and drinkable, so you were busy refilling water bottles and big containers to haul back to the Pelican.

“Not yet,” Joy said, using the speakers on your tablet. “So far this place is pretty quiet!”

“I can’t tell if that’s a good thing or a bad thing,” you drawled.

“Wait.” Joy was quiet for a few moments. “I’ll update you later.” And she was gone, attention pulled to whatever was going on with Blue Team.

Unease churned in your gut, but you figured she’d let you know if there was anything you could do to help. So you just finished up with your task, taking the refilled water bottles back to the Pelican before you and Fernando team lifted the water tanks.

“We’ll have to head back to base soon,” Fernando puffed as you two shoved a water tank back onto the ship. “Getting low on fuel.”

“I’m surprised it took this long,” you agreed with a little huff. “I feel like we must have traversed half the ring by now.”

“Not quite,” Fernando said, shoving the tank back into place. “But close. And still no closer to having answers.”

You hummed, taking a seat. “Well, either they’ll find answers, or there aren’t answers to find anymore.” You shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe the part of the ring that got blown up, or whatever, is the part that had the answers. Maybe they don’t exist anymore.”

“Would be nice if that’s that easy.” Fernando sighed. “Never seems to be, though.”

You hummed, tipping your head back against the wall of the Pelican. “Hopefully we’ll get some news soon. All of this is more boring than I thought it would be.”

“That’s because you missed all the fireworks,” Fernando said, sinking down into the seat next to yours. “That first week was…”

“A lot?” you suggested gently.

“That’s one way to put it.” Fernando sighed. “Come on, one more tank to move. Let’s get it done.”

“Alright, alright.” You stood again and stretched your arms up over your head. Then you followed Fernando outside and got to work.

You didn’t hear anything, didn’t see anything. One minute you were helping carry the tank of water, the next there was a boom and your leg collapsed out from under you. Fernando yelled, scrambling for his gun, and you blinked stupidly for a moment.

And then the chittering of Jackals caught your attention, and you decided now would be a good time to move. Only your leg wouldn’t support your weight, and you crumpled with a shout.

Fernando fired off two quick shots, kneeling next to you. “Can you move?” he asked, keeping his weapon raised and trained on where you assumed the Jackals had been.

“No.” You clenched your jaw tight, pain lancing up your leg as you tried to move. A quick look showed blood. A lot of blood. A through and through shot, maybe.

“Okay. This is gonna suck.” Fernando took one hand off his gun to haul your arm up and over his shoulders. And then he stood, dragging you with him. For a moment, the pain was so intense you feared you’d scream or black out, but you did neither. Just breathed harshly through your teeth and tried your best to keep your weight off the injured leg.

Fernando fired again twice more, swearing near constantly under his breath. “Almost there,” he huffed.

Your eyelids fluttered, attention fractured between the agony in your leg and the boom of shots being exchanged across the new battlefield.

“Almost there,” Fernando muttered again. Two more shots - one from the other side, one from him. And then the two of you stumbled into the interior of the Pelican and he slammed the button to close the ramp.

You fell to the floor with a high whine, panting through the pain. Logically, you knew this was bad. It certainly felt bad.

“Joy, I need help here!” Fernando hit the floor next to you, hands hovering over you. “Oh shit. That’s a lot of blood.”

“Press down,” you wheezed, pushing up on your hands to sit up. “Need the rags.”

“You need biofoam,” Fernando objected, shaking his head, eyes wide.

“No.” The vehemence in your own voice surprised you. “Save it. Only have two.” You took a deep breath, fighting through the pain and the shock. You’d never been shot before. It hurt, a lot more than you thought. “Medical crate.”

Fernando grabbed the crate and dragged it over, throwing the lid somewhere. He grabbed one of the biofoam canisters and you slapped his hand away.

“Not for me,” you insisted, shaking. “Rags, under the exit wound. On top. Press hard.”

“You need–”

“Listen to me.” You grabbed his hand with your blood-slicked one, holding hard. “Stop the bleeding. No biofoam. Not for me. Too precious.”

“Joy, where the hell is my backup?” Fernando yelled, freeing his hand to put the biofoam injector down and grab bandages. He packed a few under your thigh, under the exit wound, and you keened when he had to move you.

“On their way back,” Joy finally answered, sounding about as stressed as you had ever heard.

“Press hard,” you reminded Fernando, taking several fast breaths. He pressed hard and you stuffed your wrist into your mouth to muffle your shriek.

“This is not good,” Joy said. “You’re losing blood fast.”

“Just let me use the biofoam,” Fernando practically begged, though he didn’t let up on the pressure.

“Steady pressure,” you reiterated. “It will stop.” You laid back, starting to feel woozy. “I haven’t bled out yet. Probably not an artery.”

“You are insane,” Fernando snapped. “Fucking insane.” But his hands didn’t let up at all. “Can’t I use some of that powder stuff?”

You shook your head, clenching your hands into fists. “Too deep,” you murmured. “Won’t help. Pressure.”

“Yes, keep pressure, stop the bleeding, I got it.” Fernando was sounding even more freaked out though. “You’re not passing out, are you?”

“Not yet.” You hissed out a breath as he leaned harder on your thigh. “You’re doing great.”

“Do not tell me I’m doing great while you’re refusing the best treatment, you–” He broke off to swear in Spanish.

“It’s fine,” you assured him, closing your eyes. “We’ll worry about stitches later.”

“Stitches?!” His voice climbed at least an octave on the word.

“You’ll do great.” You opened your eyes again, feeling a little blurry. “We can risk some of the… the tea.”

“What’s the risk?” Fernando didn’t move yet, watching you like a hawk.

“Need to stay awake,” you mumbled. “Just hand me one.”

He hissed out another slew of curses but shifted his weight to one hand, pressing down hard enough that you whined. His free hand grabbed a vial of the tea and handed it to you, blood smeared all over the vial. It was a struggle to sit up enough to drink some and not just slosh it all over yourself, but you managed.

More shots fired outside caught both your attention and Fernando scrambled for the gun.

“It’s Blue Team,” Joy was quick to say as the ramp started to lower. “I’m letting them in.”

“Thank fuck.” Fernando dropped the gun again, refocusing on you.

Chief was the first one in, dropping to his knees next to you. “Status,” he demanded.

“Through and through shot,” you gasped, hands curling weakly. “Didn’t hit an artery, would’ve bled out already. Fernando is doing a great job applying pressure. Next is…” You licked your lips and drew in a deep breath. “Next is stitches.”

“Use the biofoam.”

“Don’t you dare.” You lifted your head to glare at John. “We only have two.”

“Base has more.” He grabbed one of the canisters.

“We can’t make more of those,” you argued, trying to push up onto your hands to argue. Kelly knelt behind you, firm hands on your shoulders keeping you down. “They’re valuable.”

“So are you.” John moved Fernando’s hands and injected the biofoam into the wound. You slammed a fist into the floor, both from the pain and frustration.

“John–” you started before your leg twitched reflexively and you sort of whited out, a little.

“Isn’t that stuff supposed to be numbing?” Fernando asked anxiously, still hovering next to you.

“It takes a minute,” Kelly said, voice cool and calm. “The bleeding is already slowing.”

“They were using an MA40,” Fred reported as he and Linda clomped up the ramp onto the Pelican. “A few stragglers.”

“So just shitty luck,” you wheezed, trying to focus on anything but how much your leg hurt, which really only emphasized how much your leg hurt.

“We’re going back to base.” John dropped the empty canister to the side and started clearing away the bloody rags. You lifted your head to watch and swallowed. That was a lot of blood that was outside your body.

“Fluids,” you muttered, almost by rote. “And rest.”

“An excellent prescription,” Kelly agreed smoothly. “One that perhaps you’ll follow.”

“She will.” Fernando scowled at you, although you could see the fear behind the anger.

You waved a hand limply and let your head thunk back against the floor. “Fine. Couple days off it should be enough.”

A big hand caught one of yours, holding you gently, like you were delicate. To a Spartan, you kind of were, actually. A quiet conversation took place over your head about moving you to a seat versus leaving you on the floor. You voted for just staying on the floor.

Apparently someone was still listening to your muttering, because John sat behind you to brace you, letting you lean back against his chest while Linda brought you water. Fernando stood outside long enough to wash off his hands before he stomped into the cockpit and shut the doors.

You did feel a bit bad about that.

As the adrenaline wore off and the biofoam did its job, you found yourself leaning harder back against John. He was the only thing keeping you upright, really.

“We will have a talk about this,” he rumbled in your ear, and, oh, that was his normal voice. Unmodulated. He wasn’t wearing his helmet. You managed to look in his direction, blinking slowly. He was stubbly, just a little. Idly, you wondered how that would feel under your hands.

“We will?” You finally got your mouth connected to your brain again.

“Yes.” His jaw clenched for a moment, and you watched the play of muscles under his stubble with absolute fascination. “When you’re lucid.”

“‘M lucid.” You blinked again sluggishly. It was work to peel your eyes back open.

“Rest for now.” One hand landed on your hip, helping to anchor you in place as the engines whirred to life and the Pelican lifted off.

You grumbled a little. Time blurred. It took much too long between blinks. You felt the Pelican in motion, then landing. Then the clamor of voices, hard armor under you, sudden pain in your thigh as you were lifted.

Then dim lights and something more or less soft under you. You slowly pushed yourself upright, hissing softly at the residual ache in your thigh.

“You should be laying down.”

You blinked at John, wondering briefly how you’d missed him. He was a hulking mass in the corner, dressed down in a slightly too tight shirt and pants. “What time ‘s’it?”

“0200, approximately.” He shrugged.

“Why are you still up.” You lifted one hand to rub your eyes, wrinkling your nose at how dry you still felt.

John was quiet for a few long moments, long enough that you refocused on him. “I needed to keep watch.”

You almost very stupidly blurted out that you were in camp, why would he need to keep watch? Then you realized. He meant you. Keep watch over you. It was his way of admitting he’d stayed up to make sure you were okay.

Warmth bloomed in your chest and you smiled, despite yourself. “I’m not dying,” you murmured.

“Not tonight.” His lips pressed together, briefly distracting you. “You could have.”

You sighed. “It was a logical choice,” you murmured, shifting your weight very carefully on the bed and letting your hands fall to your lap. “Biofoam is not something we can manufacture or replace here, whereas rags and pain tea are readily available.”

“It’s not the call you would have made if one of us was shot. If Fernando was shot.”

You hesitated, because you knew he was right. If Fernando had been shot, or John or the others… You would have used the biofoam. Without question. You sighed, shoulders drooping, sinking in on yourself. “You’re right.”

“So why?” He finally stepped closer, his arms dropping to his sides.

You frowned, struggling with the words for several long moments before you sighed. “You’re critical,” you finally admitted, gaze down. “Fernando is your pilot, you need him. Blue Team are all irreplaceable.” You swallowed hard. “I’m just a medic.”

“And that makes you more replaceable.” He knelt slowly next to the bed so he could catch your gaze.

“Yes.” You closed your eyes, breathing slowly. “I’ve made some hard calls since we’ve all been stuck here. Sometimes that means someone dies. Sometimes it means just a lot of pain and a slower recovery.” You finally looked at him, throat tight. “I’d rather have the supplies for you, in case you need them. Any of you.”

John was quiet for several long moments, giving you time to calm down again. “Your reasoning is flawed,” is what he finally said.

“What?” You blinked at him, running through your argument in your mind again.

“You’re critical, as well.” He leaned in slowly, carefully, only getting close without touching, until he was mostly all you could see. “You’re not just a medic. You’re not replaceable.”

“John?” You licked your lips, eyes wide, focused entirely on him.

“I’m not good at this,” he muttered. One hand very slowly closed over yours, sending your pulse racing somehow even faster.

“Neither am I,” you admitted, barely even daring to breathe. “Don’t tease me. What do you mean?”

John blew out a slow breath, the only outward sign of his nerves. “You are… special. To me.” His fingers tightened ever so slightly around yours. “I would like to… have more. With you.”

“Like a relationship?” You couldn’t keep the hope out of your voice if someone had paid you.

“Yes.” He swallowed, holding very still. Waiting for you to decide.

“I would very much like that.” You smiled, shy and pleased and overwhelmed. “Can I kiss you, John?”

He considered the question for a moment before he nodded, just slightly. “Yes, ma’am.”

You freed one hand to cup his jaw - his stubble was a delightful little rasp under your fingers, and you smiled. Slowly, giving him a chance to stop you or pull away, you leaned in, until you could press your lips to his in a chaste kiss.

Your eyes fluttered open again to find the tiniest of smiles on his lips. “How was that?” you asked softly, unwilling to risk this new thing between you.

“Acceptable.” He paused. “Further research will need to be conducted.”

“Of course.” You tamped down on your own grin… mostly. More or less. It was entirely gone when he took the initiative to kiss you again.

You could have quite happily gotten distracted with kissing him for the rest of the night, except that pain flared in your thigh, reminding you that yes you had gotten shot a matter of hours ago. At your grimace, John frowned a little and started pushing you back to lay down.

“You need more rest.”

“So do you,” you muttered. “Please get some sleep tonight.”

“I will.” John leaned down to press a very careful kiss to your forehead. “Good night.”

“Night.” You watched with your heart in your eyes as John rose, as fluidly as if aging wasn’t a thing that existed to him, and left the room.

Your dreams were surprisingly pleasant, for once.

#warrior song #master chief x reader #john-117 x reader

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