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notmyneighbor · 21 days

Text

Let Me In ~ Doppelgänger Francis Mosses/The Milkman x Female Reader

Chapter 4

Word Count ~ 4.5k

Rating ~ Explicit

CW ~ minor blood and violence, sexual content

Also available on AO3

taglist @luthien-elvenia-asher

Fanart used with permission @kaworinx on Instagram and TikTok

You’ve only barely begun to recover from the wrung out feeling of ultimate bliss when you hear it: the warning klaxon, followed by the sound of tires screeching to a halt. The aggressive roar of truck engines. Doors opening in rapid succession. Loud voices and boots pounding on pavement.

The doppelgänger jerks upright, sliding off the bed and wrenching the curtains to one side to peer down at the scene unfolding on the street below. “They’re here,” he says, and for the first time you detect something like fear wafting from the imposter.

A flood of relief washes over you. Someone had alerted the disposal unit. It wasn’t too late to save lives after all.

You search for your discarded clothing, hurriedly sliding the retrieved garments back into place. Francis’ copy looks at you.

“They’ll know you let me in.”

“Yes,” you agree distractedly, hastily shoving the hem of your blouse back beneath the waist of your skirt.

“They’ll know,” he says again, more firmly this time, moving in front of you, one hand closing around the wrist you’ve yet to refasten the shirt cuff upon. “They’ll know about me.”

You stare at him, realization kicking in. The others were safe. You, however, had no such guarantee. “Are you going to kill me?”

“I should. You’re a liability.” His grip on you abruptly relaxes. He’s merely holding you now. “Your organization will punish you for this.”

You shake your head, trying to hastily tuck your hair back into place. “Not once they hear my explanation.”

The intruder scowls. “What defense will you offer? You knowingly let a replicant into your precious building.”

“I…” Your confidence wavers as you begin to consider how your actions will appear. He’s right. There’s no excuse for what you’ve done. You’ve not only failed at your assigned task, you’ve betrayed your own kind. An unforgivable crime.

He seems to read the slight panic on your features, his voice gentling. “Suppose we make a deal,” he says.

You look at him warily. “What kind of deal?”

“I make it look like you were attacked while you tried to fend me off. Make up some doppelgänger appearance when they ask you. Don’t tell them about Francis’ death. You get to live. I get to go down the fire escape, avoiding extinction.”

A life for a life, in essence. The elevator was temporarily disabled the second the alarm was pushed, but it won’t take the team long to sweep each floor. You were running out of time.

“Okay,” you reluctantly agree.

He turns your arm over so the underside is exposed, thumb pressing firmly just below the hollow of your elbow. “This will hurt,” he cautions. The only warning you get before you see it: that thing inside of the milkman breaking through, emerging. A sickly gray-green digit topped with a sharp yellow claw. He drags it right through the fabric of your shirt, right through your skin. It burns. A blossoming line of red appears, your lifeforce weeping out of the laceration. You feel lightheaded and nauseous.

“Don’t look at it. And don’t let it get on the carpet. We need to leave, now.” He steps back into the milkman’s shoes, not even bothering with the laces. You follow him to the front door, exiting the apartment. Locked again. You hear voices echoing in the stairwell, the heavy tred of the suited disposal unit pounding on the steps.

“Remember what I said.” The imitation’s knuckles graze your cheek, the touch almost tender. The injured arm cradled against your chest is throbbing. “I’m going to knock you out. It will help further disguise what happened.” The voices are getting louder. They’ve finished on the second floor, making their way to the third. The doppel’s fingers curl around the back of your neck, his mouth brushing yours hurriedly before your head is slammed against the wall, sending you hurtling into a void of darkness.

***

There is a debriefing after the incident.

No casualties. The residents were safe, excluding Francis, of course. You have a lie ready to account for his sudden absence. You say you’d heard him mention something about an emergency visit to a sick relative in a neighboring city as he’d dashed out the front door earlier that day. A phone call to his employer wouldn’t match this story, of course. You weren’t sure what family the man even had. None that would corroborate your fabrication, certainly. You were just hoping that your claim about him needing to leave abruptly very early in the morning without contacting anyone was convincing enough. It’s all you can think of on the spur of the moment.

The director, a severe looking middle aged man, frowns over the lenses of his glasses at you. You keep your hands folded tightly in your lap. Your stitched wound is slowly healing, the ache now a sort of dull throbbing that you’re consciously aware of from time to time. No apparent signs of infection, the surrounding skin clear.

“Your track record, up until now, has been impeccable.” The older man’s voice brings you out of your reverie.

“Yes, sir.” It’s true. For six months you’d performed your role as doorman perfectly. Never failing to detect a single doppelgänger. Protecting the innocent.

“Still, this is not a transgression that can simply be overlooked. The consequences of your misjudgment could have been dire.”

You’d stated that you’d realized the person requesting entrance was really a copy only after the door had been opened, catching an error on the paperwork at the last minute. Intervening, attempting to stall the intruder. Injured and knocked unconscious. You knew nothing more after that.

“It’s suspicious that none of this alleged false documentation has been retrieved at the site. Strange also that you’d been carried all the way to the third floor. We also have no record even remotely matching the description of the doppel you’ve given. How do you account for these discrepancies?”

“The replicant stated they were a new resident moving in to the vacant apartment on the third floor. It seemed plausible that there hadn’t been a chance for them to be featured on the day’s list yet. It’s hardly the first time someone’s name hasn’t been placed as it should be. The subtly incorrect DDD logo was the tip off I unfortunately picked up on too late, sir.” You pause, clearing your throat. There is virtually no moisture left in your mouth and you find it suddenly parchment dry. It’s difficult to speak, your nerves betraying you. “The replicant must have taken the paperwork with them in order to conceal the evidence. And I was knocked out immediately after being cut. I don’t remember anything after that.”

His lips press into a thin line. Your force yourself to maintain eye contact. This was your explanation and you could not falter. “Even so. You failed to follow protocol. And you failed to contact the disposal team.”

“There wasn’t time to dial the phone number. Not even time to sound the alarm. I simply reacted on instinct. I was hoping to…”

“To what? What did you think you would accomplish? You, a mere unarmed woman?” He drapes the last word in contempt. You flush, squirming in your seat at the insult.

The suited man sighs heavily, closing your file folder. “You’re going to be suspended without pay for one week. Then I expect you to return to work. Your temporary replacement is…less than ideal. Let me be clear, though: if anything else happens, you’ll be terminated. No debriefing. No excuses. Understood? This is your final warning.”

You nod, saving your sigh of relief for when you’ve exited the office. The air departs your lungs in a loud rush. You’d done it. You’d actually managed to talk your way out of it.

Your thoughts immediately shift to Francis’ doppelgänger.

He was out there, somewhere. The safest move would be to travel, to just flee the area entirely, but you doubt he’ll leave. He’s still here.

You can feel him.

***

You drive to your house, to the home of your childhood. An inheritance from your great grandparents, passed down through each generation. Outside of the city. Quiet. It’s a relief to see green again. The air smells clearer, too. No waste from factory smokestacks or concentrated exhaust from automobiles. A light scent of grass and summer wildflowers. You roll your window down, inhaling deeply. It’s the best you’ve felt in a while. Since before the incident.

Francis. Your good mood departs just as quickly as it had arrived. How terrible a person you are. Lying to save your own skin. To protect the doppelgänger that had killed your beloved milkman. Putting innocent lives at risk. You had no right to feel anything even resembling happiness or contentment. You should turn the car right back around and return to the office. Confess your sins and receive whatever punishment would be decided for you. Imprisonment, certainly. Perhaps a life sentence to match the life that had been stolen from the third floor resident.

You trudge up the steps of the porch, sinking down onto the topmost stair, your head resting against the post of the railing. There are strips of paint peeling, you notice. You’ll need to sand them down before you apply more stain. Something to occupy you during your week off. Distract you from your own misery.

You close your eyes and listen to the hum of insects. There is another scent in the air now; something damp. The sky’s clouds were white and fluffy looking, but you know those can change in an instant. You think there is a storm approaching.

Perhaps you will wait it out. Just rest here and see what happens, studying your surroundings. There are birds singing in the vacant field that hasn’t known crops for many seasons. You only tended a much smaller one close to the house. Some vegetables. That was all. More often than not the local wildlife took a sample, but you didn’t mind sharing. You should have a look before you head back inside later on, see if there is anything to harvest.

It’s comfortable here. The sun is at the perfect angle. You still have plenty of shade. Warm enough to warrant rolling your shirt sleeves back. Catching sight of the scabbed, sutured line marring your forearm. You trace the mark. You think about the copycat tracing your cheek. That final kiss before he’d knocked you unconscious. It made so little sense to let you live. Had some remnant of Francis’ psyche influenced him somehow? Urging him to spare you?

Your eyes slide closed and you drift off to sleep still mulling this over.

***

In the dream you are standing in the nearby orchard.

You know it is a dream, because in reality these fruit trees are no longer tended. Yet here you are, standing beneath the crooked branches of one peach bearing specimen. The many smooth emerald leaves shield you from the sun.

Francis is beside you.

Or not-Francis. You cannot say which it is. The smile is as you remember. The perpetually tired eyes. He reaches for one of the velvet skinned fruits, plucking it easily and handing it to you.

The texture is exactly as it should be. Not too firm and not too soft. Ripe and ready to take a bite from. You do so, your teeth sinking into the soft yellow flesh. A burst of sweetness on your tongue. The excess juice drips down your chin. You offer the peach to the milkman but he doesn’t accept, instead moving to take a taste of it from your face, first doting on your lips before he laps at the dribbling trail. You clutch his shirt and his kisses become rougher. Pushing you gently to the ground. You drop the fruit and your hands become full of his shirt, his hair, the soft earth beneath you. His mouth plants kisses along your cheeks, your jaw, your neck. Hand dragging down through the floral patterned button front dress you’re wearing.

“Francis.” You reach for his face. It’s wrong. Something in the structure of the nose. So subtle it could easily be mistaken. The teeth suddenly bared in a smile that’s unfriendly. A grin of triumph. It isn’t Francis. You’ve been duped by an imposter.

The skin ripples. His eyes become bloodshot. You struggle to move. Your wrists are pinned at your sides. Sharp teeth nipping at the skin of your throat. A wolf ready to destroy its prey.

The thunder awakens you.

You jolt upright, massaging your stiff neck as you glance around hurriedly. The sky is a mass of gray clouds now, the natural illumination of the heavens notably dimmed. The air is laced with the scent of petrichor. You rise and the first drops of rain fall, pattering on your bare arms, sinking into you hair. Another disgruntled warning rumble, louder this time. The interval between that and the next shortening. You’re about to turn and enter the house when you see a figure standing nearby, on the outskirts of the side yard.

It’s him. The imposter that took over Francis.

The normally pristine, starched uniform is dirt stained, collecting souvenirs from the unpaved road leading to your house. The bowtie around his neck is loosened, draped around the unbuttoned shirt collar, the first several buttons of that work shirt similarly unfastened, revealing the white undershirt beneath. He’d never bothered retrieving the hat, the uncovered thatch of thick chestnut hair now tousled. Your fingers curl around the railing for support as he begins walking towards you with determined strides, closing the distance rapidly. The thunderstorm’s namesake harbinger sounds again. A flash of lightning. The rain is no longer a faint scattering of drops, now falling in an earnest deluge.

You both manage to escape being drenched, finding shelter beneath the porch roof in the knick of time, the imposter halting just in front of you. His chest is rapidly rising and falling, as if that brief exercise he’d just participated in was taxing him. You know that’s not the reason for those panted gasps for air, your own body mimicking that movement.

“Francis,” you say, but the name is drowned out by the growing ire of the storm.

He moves then, pressing you against the weathered clapboards near the living room window that overlooks the front yard. He cups your face between his hands and his lips crush yours. You respond without hesitation, kissing him back. Not giving yourself time to think about what you’re doing; to recall the dream you’d just had where you’d been destroyed by one of his kind.

“How did you find me?” You gasp when you part for air.

This utterance is barely audible, threaded between the next two bouts of thunder, muffled by the sound of the downpour. He slides his fingers against the harsh furrow on your arm. “I could sense where you were. Tracked you…” The words drowned out once again. His mouth moves close to your ear. “What did you say to them? What happened?”

“They bought it, for the most part, I think. The director is suspicious, though. I got suspended for a week.”

Another flash of lightning. It was foolish to remain outside any longer. You invite him in, struggling to fit the key in the lock, your trembling fingers not cooperating. His hand closes over yours, steadying you. The door surrenders, swinging inward.

It’s dark in the living room. You switch on the nearest lamp and toss your keys on the table.

“I’d offer you something to drink, but I don’t know if you still do that, or…” It was unknown what the doppelgängers consumed for nutrition. Perhaps it would be different now that they could occupy a human body and not merely disguise themselves as one.

“I do. But that can wait.”

“Did you know that would happen? You being able to trace my whereabouts when you cut me?”

“No. It’s uncharted territory. Like so much of…this,” he murmurs.

“You need to call Francis’ workplace. Explain to them that there was a family emergency. That’s the excuse I gave for the sudden absence. The DDD has been looking for you. Well, for him,” you correct yourself.

“They’ll expect me to return at some point.”

“Yes.”

“So you’ll let me in. To dwell there. And what of my brethren?”

“I can’t let them in. You know that.” You swallow nervously. “You can’t harm anyone. If I let you inside, you have to promise me you won’t. You got what you wanted. You got to be one of us. There’s no reason to hurt anyone else.”

A large clap of thunder makes you jump. The doppelgänger moves closer to you, tipping his head to one side thoughtfully. “You think I’ll cooperate?”

“We had a deal. I let you escape. I lied to protect you.”

“And I let you live. Both ends of the bargain fulfilled. There is no obligation beyond that.”

“You don’t want to hurt me.”

“Are you quite sure of that?” One arm circles your waist, drawing you against him. His fingers sift through your hair, tugging your head back slightly. “These hungers for the flesh are so distracting. How your kind manages them…” His voice trails off and his lips touch yours.

The light flickers and dies. You’ve lost electricity, now standing in the darkened room cradled by the deceiver.

“<i>The earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep</i>…”

You inhale sharply, thinking of the Bible on Francis’ nightstand. Reading scripture like any good devout soul, learning verses by heart. That memory resurfacing now.

“Francis.” You know it’s no longer him, not in his purest, human essence, but this evolution still holds traces like this that you can’t help but hold dear.

“I’m here, sweetheart.” His hands slide down over the curve of your buttocks as he kisses the corner of your jaw. You guide him towards the nearby couch, watching him sink into the cushions before you climb into his lap, your shoes sliding off and falling to the hardwood floor. You run your fingers through his hair, your mouth ravaging his. It’s the parts of Francis that you love that you’re adoring, you tell yourself. Not the pretender, but the fragments of the man inside he still carries with him. That is what your fingers caress and your mouth cherishes. You unbutton his shirt the rest of the way, then reach for the belt buckle, jerking the leather strap free from the metal, all while your lips and tongue work in a frenzy over his.

The rain and the thunder becomes white noise, a nearly muted sound in the background as you unbutton his pants and pull down the zipper, the metal teeth parting to reveal white briefs. You touch his erection through that thin material, feeling the hard, thick line of it and he hisses, then groans somewhere near your neck.

“Yes, love, that’s what I need…”

You shove your hand beneath the elastic waistband and you make contact with feverish flesh. Another groan from the imposter. You sweep over the head of his cock, realizing he’s circumcised, smoothing leaking precum over the dome before you wrap your fingers around the shaft and begin stroking up and down. He moans into your mouth. It’s not the best angle, your hand a bit squashed awkwardly between your bodies. You slide off his thighs to sit beside him, never breaking contact, still pumping his prick, rolling your fingers over the crest as you reach the top, thumb dragging over the frenulum with each pass. Your tongue dances over his and you feel the arousal leaking from your own sex, soaking your panties.

Another glob of clear fluid oozes from the tip and your mouth waters. You want to taste it. Want to feel him in your mouth.

Your lips abandon his and he frowns, confused until he sees your head bowing over his lap, your body shifting as you engulf his turgid member. Another hissing sound of pleasure as the slightly musky flavor hits your taste buds. You haven’t fully taken him inside yet, only reaching close to halfway, applying suction as you move across that shallow expanse, allowing yourself to become accustomed to the length and girth of him. His fingers touch your head, not applying force, just resting there. You release his cock with a wet popping sound, stroking your saliva over his erection before taking him into your mouth again. You push deeper this time, forcing your lips closer to the base of his cock, to the nest of dark pubic hair. Your throat protests and you gag, the fingers on your head now tightening, pressing, urging you on.

“Sweet girl, that’s it, you can take it. All the way. Fuck.” The curse is something you’d never imagine coming from the milkman’s lips, but you find yourself aroused by it, the depravity of what you’re doing erotic. Your head bobs, dipping lower each time, eliciting an obscene wet squelching sound as his prick collides with your throat. There’s a higher pitch to his sounds of pleasure now. His hips lift to meet you, shoving him in as deep as he can reach while your nostrils flare, searching for a greater air supply.

Your nails dig into this thigh. The loosened belt buckle jingles with each thrust into that moist cavity you’ve provided. The fingers in your hair loosen, allowing you a brief respite. You withdraw and cough. A thick trail of saliva connects your lower lip to his glistening cock. Your fingers massage through the slick and he hums appreciatively. Your lips feel slightly numb, tingling from the stretch. There’s a burning sensation in your abused throat, a soreness when you swallow. But the discomfort is bearable. You want to do this. You want him to feel good.

You suck in a lungful of air and then begin again. You hear the replicant’s breathing becoming shallower, more rapid. He’s getting close. You redouble your efforts, moving fast and deep.

“Sweetheart, you’re going to make me…it’s so fucking good…”

His hips snap up and an acrid spill of semen floods your throat. It catches you by surprise and you choke around the pulsing erection. It’s a copious amount of seed that spills over your retreating tongue. You swallow down the last of the bitter fluid, straightening, dragging the back of your hand across your spit drenched chin.

“That was…you…” The creature is speechless. You can’t help but feel a little pride over that. He captures your lips, mulling over the taste he’s left there. “I want to taste you,” he says, and your pussy throbs. “I want you to cum inside my mouth.”

He moves off the couch, kneeling in front of you. Shoving at your skirt. You hurriedly hook your thumbs over the edge of your panties and drag them down, feeling how wet the crotch is as they drag across your legs. Scooting closer to the edge, spreading yourself open for him.

His face moves forward and his tongue parts your folds. Laving down to gather a sample of your arousal. Humming with approval at the taste of you as he focuses on your clit. A long, slow drag over the sensitive nub. You whimper. His thumbs wedge along either side of your sex, stretching the pink flesh further open. His mouth covers your cunt and he sucks and your thighs try to close, the sensation overwhelming.

“Oh sweetheart, you’re delicious.” Slurping on your clit now. You thread your fingers through his hair, caressing his head as his tongue flicks across the hooded button. He doesn’t need guidance this time. Everything is the way you like it. Dividing attention between your clitoris and the entrance of your pussy. Pushing that muscle inside, fucking you with his tongue, alternating with lapping at your bundle of nerve endings. You wish it wasn’t quite so dark. You want to see his eyes. You know he’s looking at you even if he can’t discern much in the dim gray light filtering in through the windows. Watching your reaction even as he feels it in his mouth. Hears the pleading, the needy gasps and moans, the whining that begins the closer you get to coming apart in his mouth.

He moans, too, and the vibrations of that sound add another layer to your pleasure. A finger makes its way inside you. Violated by a second soon after, thrusting while he sucks your clit. You climax, panting his name over and over, your fingers frantic in his hair, your pelvis quaking as your grind yourself against him.

Eventually your movements lessen. He eases back and your quivering legs draw closed. He rejoins you on the couch, his mouth on yours, gifting you a taste of yourself.

Then you sit quietly, listening to the diminishing storm outside. The rain drums on the roof and taps along the gutters with a soft metallic sound. Your face is tucked into the doppel’s shoulder, one hand resting on his chest, feeling his heartbeat, his arm curled around your shoulders.

You shouldn’t enjoy this. Any of this. You should be afraid, disgusted. Instead you feel oddly calm. Safe in his arms, even though you certainly aren’t. These alien beings were masters of deception and manipulation. You know better. It was foolish, what you were doing. Dangerous—for you, for everyone else.

But you’re convinced more than ever that some part of Francis is still buried within. The goodness of him negating the evil of this imposter.

“I’ll make the call in the morning.” The first words spoken in a long time. Your head lifts. “And I’ll move in to the apartments.”

“Just you. And you won’t harm anyone.”

“You ask for too much.”

“I’m giving up everything for you. Risking my job, my life, the lives of the people I’ve sworn to protect. My heart. My soul,” you finish with a whisper. “I don’t think you understand how many things I’m sacrificing.”

“I’m not human. It’s impossible for me to. There are no words for them in our language because they simply don’t exist.”

“But you want to be us. You should understand…”

“I will make the call and I will move in. Beyond that I am not promising you anything. Except…I do not want you harmed.” He reaches for your arm, tracing over the healing wound he’d inflicted. “I will try to prevent that, at least.”

A small concession, perhaps, but an important one nonetheless. If he was willing to spare you, maybe you could convince him to spare others.

Teach him the value of a human life while taming the monster within that wears the face of the man you love.

#francis mosses #francis mosses x reader #francis mosses x you #milkman #milkman x reader #milkman x you #thats not my neighbor

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mapiforpresident · 2 months

Note

Hi writer, prompt number 16 with Barcelona femeni(maybe platonic)

I'll Try to Behave

fcb femení x teen!reader

warnings: alcohol

The team bus was loud before you even got on it, but as soon as you made your way up the stairs the whole coach cheered. It was a couple hours after Barcelona had won the Supercopa in which you scored three goals.

"I knew I brought you here for a reason" Lucy yelled over the music Patri and Pina were playing on a speaker.

"You didn't do anything, it was mostly Keira and Ona. If anything you were on my con list."

"I'm taking personal offence to that," Lucy said as she slid into the seat next to Ona towards the middle of the bus. Ona was a good friend of yours having played with her during her two years at Man United. You were also close with Lucy and Keira from being on the Lionesses together.

As Lucy and Ona got lost in their own little world of staring into each other's eyes lovingly, you fake gagged at them and continued to the back of the bus where your closest friends Patri, Pina, Mapi, and Cata were all yelling some song in Spanish that you couldn't understand a word of. Alexia and Ingrid were also sat in the back although based on their frowns, you had a feeling they thought the music was a little bit loud.

You dramatically flopped yourself on Alexia's lap who was sat directly in front of Pina and Patri's seat. "Yo Pina play that one I like next please and Patri can you please pass me one of those beers."

"No, absolutely not. Have you lost your mind." Alexia exclaimed while she was trying to push you off of her onto the seat next to her.

"Ale I'm seventeen, I've drank a beer before. Mapi even gave me two at the last team bonding night after you feel asleep like a grandma during The Lion King."

"You were not supposed to tell her that y/n." Mapi angrily whispered at you from across the aisle. "Great now she is going to murder me and never let me within ten feet of you"

"I swear to god Mapi. Why are you corrupting the baby. And you," Alexia said as she turned to you, "no drinking or dating or anything of the sort until you are thirty."

"You do know me and Pina had a beer chugging contest in the locker room before we got on the bus right."

"Claudia Pina." You had never seen anyone glare with as much exasperation at someone until now. Claudia coward under Ale's gaze and pretended to be staring out the window until Alexia was called up to the front of the bus by Jana asking her a question.

Patri decided to break the tension by shouting "truth or dare anyone," down the aisle of the bus to which you immediately agreed.

"Truth or dare, y/n," Patri asked you. You decided to go with truth for the first one knowing if you chose dare already, Patri would mostly likely give you one that would end with Alexia dragging you to the front of the bus and not letting you have anymore fun.

"Have you ever had a crush on anyone on this team." Patri really wanted to know the answer because you rarely talked about crushes or your love life.

You smirked at her. "Yes. Truth or dare Mapi"

"Wait hold on who is it" Patri asked as Pina asks "Do you still have a crush on them."

"That was not part of the question. Truth or dare Mapi." Mapi decided to go with a dare much to the displeasure of her girlfriend sitting next to her.

"I dare you to call your mom and tell her your pregnant"

"You know she is never going to believe me seeing as I'm with Ingrid and all," Mapi replied, but still pulled out her phone and dialed her mother's number not one to back down from a dare.

As Mapi made the call, the rest of the team listening were trying their hardest to contain their fits of laughter, the alcohol already consumed not helping. You couldn't help but chuckle at the absurdity of the situation, watching as Mapi put on her best dramatic performance, her eyes widening in feigned panic as she spoke into the phone.

"Mom, I have something to tell you... I'm pregnant," Mapi announced dramatically, her voice laced with faux distress.

The reaction on the other end of the line was immediate and intense, Mapi's mother launching into a tirade of disbelief and concern that had the entire bus doubled over in laughter. Even Ingrid couldn't contain her amusement, shaking her head in mock disapproval as Mapi continued to play her part until eventually Mapi's mom heard all the laughing and figured out Mapi was pranking her. After she hung up she asked, "Claudia, truth or dare."

"Truth."

"What’s your biggest turn-on?" Mapi asked.

"Um probably eye contact," Claudia replied as she blushed a little. "Ok Cata, truth or dare."

Just as Cata was about to reply dare. Alexia called out to the bus that they had arrived back at the parking lot.

As you stepped off the bus, the night air enveloped you. The laughter and banter of your teammates echoed around you, their voices a comforting melody amidst the bustling streets of Barcelona.

Patri and Pina led the way to Patri's car, the promise of continuing the celebration at a club with friends sparking excitement in the air. You were about to join them, already planning how many shots you'd take, when suddenly, Alexia's firm grip halted you in your tracks.

"Absolutely not, hermanita," Alexia declared, her gaze unwavering. "I already asked Olga to set up the spare room for you. We can watch a movie before you go to bed if you're good on the car ride home."

You pouted playfully, but deep down, you were grateful for Alexia's protective instinct. With a resigned sigh, you agreed, knowing that Alexia always had your best interests at heart.

"Fine," you relented, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "As long as I get to pick the movie."

And so, the night continued, filled with laughter, music, and the warmth of friendship that surrounded you like a comforting embrace. As you fell asleep that night, nestled between Alexia and Olga, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the football family you had found at Barcelona, knowing that no matter what the future held, you would always have each other's backs.

---

Let me know if you guys have any tips or comments to improve my writing. Also my requests are open so feel to request anything and I will get it done asap. Thank you!!

#fcb femení x reader #fcb femení #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas #lucy bronze x reader #lucy bronze #mapi leon #claudia pina #patri guijarro #ona batlle #keira walsh #woso x reader #woso

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sergeantxrogers · 2 months

Note

Can you please write something with the idea of y/n asking Bucky if she can tie a pink ribbon around his bicep? Thank you

Request: "Can you please write something with the idea of y/n asking Bucky if she can tie a pink ribbon around his bicep? Thank you"

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: none, just fluff

Note: hooooly shit guys, i've been gone for way too long. hope you enjoy <3

_____

The jingle of keys in the doorknob had you lifting your eyes from your book, followed by the sound of the door opening and closing softly. The quiet whispers of a jacket being taken off, laces being untied, keys being set on the small table beside the door travelled through the apartment, meeting your ears and bringing a smile to your face.

Soft footsteps padded against the hardwood floor, careful to avoid any creaky spots.

"I'm awake, Buck," you called out softly from the comfort of your bed, and you heard him pause his movements. And then continue, a bit quicker than before.

Brown hair and blue eyes popped around the the edge of the door frame, brows furrowed. "It's midnight. Why are you still awake?"

You shrugged, sitting up in bed and setting your book aside. "Dunno, really. Got caught up reading."

Bucky frowned, and stepped into the room, walking over to the bed. "You can't sleep?"

It was a casual question, but you sensed the undertone of worry laced through it, and smiled to yourself.

"Actually, I spent most of the evening redecorating, so I'll probably start snoring as soon as the lights are off."

Bucky's hands reached for yours, grabbing them and bringing them up to his lips as he stood in front of you. One, two, three kisses along your knuckles. One hand, then the other.

"Redecorating?" he murmured against your skin, and you nodded slyly. His eyes narrowed, partially in amusement, partially in curiosity.

You cleared your throat and pulled your hands back, settling yourself back into the fluffy down of your pillows and blankets. "How was work today?"

At your question, Bucky's jaw ticked.

"It was fine."

You studied him for a few seconds, and cocked your head. "Just fine?"

He let out a heavy sigh, then collapsed atop the comforter at the foot of the bed. On nights like this, when he came home later than usual, the tension in his shoulders a bit more prominent than usual, the bags under his eyes a bit heavier, he found it hard to form sentences adequate enough to explain how he felt or what he needed.

Ever since the government cleared him of all charges and his mandated therapy ended, Bucky had taken up a job at the DCSA.

Defense Counterintelligence and Security Agency.

On paper, James Buchanan Barnes was an ordinary, ex-military security guard working for the Department of Defense and the United States.

In reality, the executive branch of the federal government reached out to him themselves and offered him a job doing what they claimed he did best: making people disappear, and making it seem like an accident. He was hesitant at first, unwilling to be the very thing he tried so hard to run away from being, but soon enough, they had made it very clear he had limited options: accept the position, or get thrown in prison for all the charges they claimed to have dropped.

So, for all his hesitating and hatred, Bucky Barnes was the United States government's own personal hitman, killing anybody who posed a threat to the life of the president, his family, or anybody in the Senate.

At least they paid better than HYDRA, Bucky had once joked. You could see, in his eyes, how much it pained him to revert back to his old ways, once again not having a choice.

Bucky cleared his throat, and glanced at you, blinking away the shadows behind his eyes.

"It's fine, sweetheart. I promise. It could have been worse."

Your heart cracked in your chest and you frowned, burying your cheek even deeper into your pillow as you looked at him. "If you say so."

Bucky pursed his lips to the side, then looked toward the door connecting your bedroom to the bathroom. Without a word, he got up, walking towards the bathroom and simultaneously pulling his shirt over his head. You smiled to yourself as you watched him disappear behind the door, flicking the lights on and letting the soft, yellow glow flood the floor of your room. You listened to him shuffle about, letting out a soft sigh as he unbuckled his belt.

His movements paused.

Your smile grew.

"Y/N?" he called out.

"Yes, babe?"

The door creaked open all the way, and behind it stood Bucky, holding his toothbrush in one hand, with a confused look on his face.

"Why is there a pink bow on my toothbrush?"

It took all your strength not to burst into a fit of giggles immediately as you schooled your face into one of nonchalance, and said, "I told you. I redecorated."

Bucky's bewildered eyes flickered from you, to the toothbrush, then back to you. Then he turned to look at the bathroom. And you saw the exact moment in which he realized there were pink bows everywhere. Big, small, light pink, dark pink, neon pink, cotton, silk, linen. A variety of ribbons tied in bows around everything you could think of: toothbrushes, toothpaste, shampoo bottles, the soap dispenser, the toilet brush, the towel rack, your skincare bottles, his deodorant and cologne.

"Y/N," Bucky said calmly.

"Yes?" you replied, batting your eyelashes innocently.

"Can you please tell me, why, exactly, you decided on redecorating with pink bows everywhere?"

You hummed, then shrugged. "You know, I'm not exactly sure. I just think they make pretty things look so much prettier. I may have gone a bit overboard, though."

"You think?"

You bit back a grin as you watched him shake his head, as if to snap him from his stupor of amusement, and bend over the sink to brush his teeth. You watched him brush his teeth, wash his face, change out of his jeans and into pajama pants. You tracked him as he turned the lights off and sighed, trudging over to the bed, exhaustion creeping into every one of his movements and pulling at him like gravity. You opened your arms wide, lifting the covers as you did so, and Bucky gladly crawled into them, nuzzling his head into your chest and wrapping his arms around your waist and back.

You placed a soft kiss to the crown of his head, and let your arms come loosely around his neck. Bucky said nothing, content to lay in silence and listen to the beat of your heart as it lulled him to sleep.

After a few minutes of you silently running your fingers through his hair, you whispered his name. "Bucky?"

He hummed in answer against your chest.

"You know how I said pink bows make pretty things even prettier?"

You felt, rather than saw, his body pause at the question, and then his head was up and his blue eyes were staring into yours with a puzzled expression. "Yes... why? What's that have to do with anything?"

"Well..."

You paused. All of a sudden, you felt stupid. Bucky's furrowed brows and sleepy eyes urged you to continue.

"I have a pink ribbon under the pillow, actually, and I was... I wanted to..."

"What, honey?"

"Well, I was wondering if I could tie it around your arm."

Bucky paused, blinking up at you slowly, as if he hadn't heard you.

"My arm?"

You nodded.

"Why?"

You shrugged. "Because it's already beautiful, and I want to make it even more so."

He laid there quiet for a moment, and you were about to tell him to forget about it, but then he unwrapped his arms from around you, letting you drop flat onto your back, and shoved a hand beneath your head. Beneath your pillow.

He emerged with a baby pink ribbon in his fingers, the material pliable and soft in his grip, as he handed it to you.

"Go ahead," he said simply.

You gave him a skeptical look. "Really?"

He shrugged with one shoulder. "Why not? Did you think I'd say no?"

You fell quiet, then let out a sigh through your nose, turning over slightly to better reach his arm. His left arm.

You wrapped the ribbon around his bicep, the vibranium cold and unyielding, a stark contrast to the warm pink silk in your fingers. You looped it through, pulling it taut, then let go. You stared at it for a second, then glanced up at Bucky. Leaning in, you pressed a light kiss to the exposed metal right above the bow.

Bucky let out a shuddering breath, then laid down again, this time face to face with you. His fingers traced soft, swirling patterns against the skin of your arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake, and you closed your eyes against the feeling.

"I love you so much," he muttered quietly. "You know that, right?"

You nodded, eyes closed and a smile playing at your lips. "I know. I love you, too. Every part of you."

Bucky loosed a breath that sounded somewhat like a disbelieving breath, and you felt him lean in and press a kiss to your temple.

You fell asleep without even realizing, lulled into dreams by the steady thrum of his heartbeat and his hand stroking your hair.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #marvel #mcu #marvel fanfic #sebastian stan #bucky barnes x female reader #sebastian stan fic #the winter soldier #the winter soldier fanfiction #tfatws #tfatws fanfiction

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strawbeerossi · 10 months

Text

Jealousy

18+ Content. Minors DNI

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

Description: Whenever the team tracks down the unsub they are looking for, it’s up to reader to lure him out of the bar with nothing but her charm and charisma. Spencer however, just can’t stand watching it. He makes sure to make his feelings known to the reader later on.

Content Warnings: Post-Prison!Spencer, Jealous!Spencer, BAU!reader, case details, coarse language, Dom!Spencer, kinda mean!Spencer, sub!reader, possessiveness, degradation, praising, unprotected sex, creampie, oral (F receiving), fingering, hair pulling, spitting, aftercare, fluff at the end

Word count: 3k

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Well, here it is! Can I technically call this ‘Jealousy (Taylor’s Version)(From the Vault)’ ?

Spencer approached Emily, his brow furrowed with concern, as he held a file tightly in his hands. "Emily, we need to talk about Y/N's undercover assignment. I've been analyzing the data, and there are some significant risks involved that we need to address before we even think of sending her out there.” he began, his voice laced with urgency.

Emily, her expression serious yet attentive, met Spencer’s gaze. "I understand your concerns, Reid, but we've already vetted this operation thoroughly. Y/N is well-prepared and capable of handling herself," she responded, her voice steady and reassuring.

It wasn’t matters of him thinking that Y/N wasn’t prepared, it was him being worried because this unsub was taking women who fit her image description and killing them after doing horrible things to them.

The male nodded, his worry still evident. "I know Y/N is skilled, but the circumstances surrounding this case are unusually complex. I just want to make sure we have contingency plans in place and that we're ready to support her in any way necessary," he explained, his analytical mind racing with potential scenarios. She could have a knife pulled on her and be forced out, this unsub could drug her by sticking her with something, he could kill her right there if he figured out she was a federal agent..

After being released from prison, Spencer became a different man. He used to be more composed, now however, he was more temperamental. It didn’t help that Y/N was his girlfriend, the need to protect her being obvious. Besides, who wants to see their partner talking with a man who was brutally stabbing women and doing horrible things to their corpses? Especially when each of those women could’ve been her twin. That put her in a high risk situation that wasn’t a guaranteed arrest.

“Reid,” The Unit Chief let one hand come up to rub her face, the woman being tired of the argument. She could understand the worry and frustration, however this was Y/N’s job that she’d been doing for a good six years now. She knew the stakes as well as what she could or couldn’t handle.

“I promise that we will have this covered. We have surveillance all over the bar. Alvez, Simmons, and you are going to be inside, close enough to stop anything if things go too far.” She stressed the details, the woman just being exhausted explaining her decision continuously. “You aren’t changing my mind. I need you to understand that this decision was made with Y/N. You need to let her do her job.”

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

Y/N walked into the dimly lit bar, her gaze looking around for Marcus Black, the man’s face still fresh in her mind from the picture that Penelope had sent her while she was on the way over to the location, the woman trying to mentally prepare herself for the mental gymnastics she’d have to go through for this. It was a common misconception that undercover missions were much easier than having to risk it by assuming who the unsub is and building off the profile.

Y/N would argue this is much harder. You have to stand in front of a person who did unspeakable things to others. You have to get close and personal, be able to hide that overwhelming feeling of being disgusted, nervous, and even terrified. This was a man who was definitely bigger than she was in every aspect, being able to take her down if he truly wanted to.

That didn’t stop her from flashing a bright smile at the bartender as she’d approached the bar, sitting in a bar stool while ordering a vodka tonic. Across the room, she could get a clear view of Matt Simmons, the man keeping his gaze fixated on her as he gave a nod once the two made direct eye contact.

She had a wire, the team could hear everything from the earpieces they all had in order to communicate with one another as well as communicate with her, even if she couldn’t very well respond in an obvious way.

Although as Y/N was lost in her thoughts, she could feel a presence beside her, one that oozed darkness. The vibe had dropped tremendously low, however Y/N needed to keep up a façade or all of this will go to shit, something the team definitely doesn’t need right now.

Especially when they could just taste the capture that was going to come. “Hi.” The woman spoke, a charming smile gracing her features while her head tilted ever so slightly to the side, her fingers playing with the straw in her drink.

Which as she had struck up a conversation, Spencer was quietly watching from the other end of the bar, nursing a full glass of some mixed drink in front of him just to avoid suspicion. He knew that she had to fake interest but that didn’t stop a heat rising in his chest, one associated with jealousy.

Seeing his girlfriend giving another man bedroom eyes, laughing at every word he said, even putting her hand on his upper arm was enough to make him seethe in his spot, hazel eyes focused on his girlfriend.

She was giggling, he could just hear it from his spot, probably telling him that she just couldn’t bare the thought of going home alone. He was just further pissing himself off thinking of the potential things she could be saying, not even tuning in to the actual dialogue because he knew it would’ve pissed him off much more than his own thoughts.

It was enough to make him clench his hand around the glass in his right hand. It was like his brain was trying to trick him into genuinely believing that Y/N was enjoying herself. He knew better, however the anger over the ‘what if’ had him shaking.

It reminded him of when he was in prison.

Y/N would come to visit him and it was one of the only things that got him through the hell, however the other inmates always had their comments. Saying explicit things about his angel, what they’d do to her given the chance to ever see her outside of those four cement walls. He wanted to keep his head down at the time but god damn, if this version of him was in prison, he would’ve been throwing fists and starting fights over his girlfriend, adding onto his sentence.

This was absolute fucking torture, Spencer’s leg bouncing in annoyance as he was using his opposite hand to put the earpiece in his ear, just in time to hear something that would have him absolutely livid. “I don’t think you could handle me, sweetheart. However if you’re up for a challenge, I’m always happy to take a precious little dove like yourself home.. However.. I don’t know if you could take what I’m going to give you,”

The male’s voice was the first thing Spencer was greeted with. “Is that so? You have no idea what you're getting yourself into. But I promise, once you've tasted the forbidden fruit, there's no turning back.” Y/N countered, her voice low and in a seductive tone while her fingers were tracing over the rim of her glass.

“I don’t think you understand what I’m saying, honey.” The man continued while looking over at her with a raised eyebrow. “Most women can’t handle what I offer. We make a wager..” There it is! Now tell her, you fucking fuck.

“If they can get through my little game, they get to go home. If not?” He began, reaching in his jacket pocket. Which was enough to make Spencer jump up from his spot before he was storming over, catching a glimpse of a knife being pulled from an inner jacket pocket.

It gave him probable cause to shove the man over the counter, making Y/N’s eyes widen at the surprise while she was jumping back.

“Marcus Black, you are under arrest for the murders of Christine Brailey, Jessica Fredricks, and Emily Knight as well as the attempted murder of Amanda Grey.” Spencer spoke through gritted teeth, the handcuffs locking tightly on his wrists before he was shoving him out of the bar.

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

Y/N’s back was hitting the front door of the apartment as soon as she and Spencer made it inside, the woman gasping while she was trapped between her boyfriend’s body and the wooden door.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were enjoying yourself back there. I mean you were really trying to sell it, weren’t you?” Spencer asked, eyebrows raising as his hand was coming under his girlfriends chin to make her look at him. He looked furious, it was enough to make Y/N nearly fall on her knees right then and there.

The thing about Spencer was that he was much different now, prison changing him in many ways. He was still a good man, there were no doubts about that, but now he had more anger.

Which Y/N was the outlet he needed when he was having a hard time, fucking her deep into their mattress where she was soaking their bedsheets with her cum, getting to the point where she was crying from overstimulation and begging for more.

“Get your little ass in the bedroom.” Spencer spat, dropping his hand before watching his girlfriend scurry off, making a b-line to their bedroom. It took Spencer an agonising amount of time to lock up and make sure everything was turned off for the night before he was making an appearance.

“You know, I could tell you were truly enjoying yourself. How does it feel to be a fucking whore?” He spat, making Y/N clench her thighs together as she could just feel her arousal soaking her panties from the harsh words.

“Look at you. Fucking pathetic. You’re really getting wet right now while I’m scolding you for being a whore?” He asked, taking a few steps over before letting his hand tangle in his girlfriend’s hair, tugging her head up to force her to look up at him from the spot where she was sitting on their king sized bed.

“So cock hungry.” He spoke while letting go of her hair while working to loosen his tie, urging his girlfriend to take his belt off for him. However as she was moving to start on his pants, his hand was wrapping around hers. “No.” He began, using the tie he’d loosened and taken off to restrain her hands behind her back.

“You don’t get the pleasure of touching me tonight.” He scolded his girlfriend before pushing her back onto the mattress, his hand grabbing her right ankle before he was pulling her to the end of the bed.

The black dress she wore had a perfect eyeful for him, her tits threatening to spill over the top as he was running his large hands over her body, fingertips tracing over the straps before he was pulling them down, letting her breasts out of their confinement while he groaned lowly. He had seen her body so much and he could navigate it with ease, but seeing her was always like the first time. Just.. He knows what he’s doing now and he’s not as nervous. “Fucking gorgeous.” His voice was low while he was using no effort at all to tug the dress down her legs, throwing it somewhere on their bedroom floor.

“The point of panties is to have something to cover you up.” He spoke lowly, chuckling as her needy, swollen cunt was practically swallowing the fabric of the panties that were on her hips. With a soft hum, his fingertips were running across her covered slit, collecting her arousal on his fingers while sighing, his head shaking.

“Look my angel. Who’s got you this wet?” He asked, his hands pushing her thighs apart more, falling to his knees at the edge of the mattress. “Y-you.” Y/N was whispering, shaking with anticipation as she was really desperate for something, anything. She knew the game Spencer was playing though.

“Damn right,” He gave an arrogant smirk while blowing cool air on her soaked pussy, a chuckle leaving his lips at the pathetic mewl that fell from her lips. “That’s right. Me. Because you’re mine, Y/N. Gonna show you what happens when you get too into flirting when you only had to do the bare minimum.” He murmured, his fingers hooking in the waistband of the black panties, tugging them down her legs while discarding of them somewhere on the floor.

Spencer was delving right in, eating her as if she was his last meal and he was a starved man, the way Y/N’s whines and cries making his cock stand at attention. However it wasn’t long until he was pulling away, tongue paying attention to her throbbing clit while two of his long fingers were being pushed into her without warning.

Her pussy was clenching around the digits, her back arching off of their sheets as she was blabbing her own praises, even if she wasn’t making too much sense because she was a sobbing mess as she could feel those long fingers curling.

Her hands were still bound, grabbing onto her own wrist, although she’d rather have her fingers in Spencer’s hair and being able to shove his face against her more. However, it was all crashing down when Spencer was pulling away, the male chuckling as his girlfriend was looking up at him with tears in her eyes. She was desperate for relief.

“Shh.. I know.” The male chuckled, now getting off his shirt, shedding his slacks as well before his boxers were the last to go. He was getting situated, his hands wrapping her shaking legs around his waist while he was spitting onto her already soaked pussy, the tip of his cock teasing her desperate cunt by spreading the sit around as if she needed to be lubed up.

“Alright, angel. Are you ready for my cock or do you need my fingers a little longer?” He asked, an eyebrow raising. Even in his state, he’d always ask before going too crazy. Last thing he needed was to hurt her.

“Cock!” Y/N blabbed immediately, eyes glossed over while her hips were rolling in an attempt to get some sort of friction, clenching around nothing as she was left to lay there helpless.

“Answer any faster, why don’t you? Someone is eager..” Spencer chuckled, however he was getting quite desperate himself. So, he wasn’t wasting time before his cock was pushing into her cunt, his head falling on her shoulder while he let out a low groan.

Y/N was letting out a drawn out moan, a few whimpers following after. There was always a delicious stretch, the pleasurable pain having her squirming and trying to push herself against his cock for more, the only thing stopping her was a strong hand on her hip.

“Patience. I’ll pull out right now and cum on your stomach and leave you here to squirm. You know better than this.” He warned, his voice low as he kissed the spot under her ear.

Feeling his rock hard cock stretching and stuffing her felt beyond amazing and she loved it. Once he was bottoming out, Spencer wasted no time in beginning to ram his cock into his girlfriend.

The feeling of her velvety, plushy walls was always enough to drive him insane. It was like she was made for him, not even just her body but her as a person. She complimented him so well and he did the same with her. It was safe to say that she was his person. Emphasis on his.

The sinful sounds of skin slapping against each other and the moans, whimpers and cries from Y/N were filling the once quiet bedroom. Their neighbors hated them enough, Spencer could already hear the complaints from the woman next door. She’d already made several noise complaints in the past, which Y/N would joke with Spencer that it was because she hadn’t been touched in a good thirty years. What a life that would be.

Spencer kept up his steady, relentless thrusts. His goal was always to have Y/N cum first, mainly because the mere sight of her creaming around his cock was enough to make him explode. “Sp-Sp.. I-I… C-Cu-“ That was all he got out of her before he knew exactly what she was trying to convey judging by the way her cunt squeeze tightly around him, a cry leaving her lips as she was doing hitting her orgasm, her back arching off the mattress as her nails were digging into her wrists.

“Fuck!” She cried, Spencer giving a few more sloppy thrusts before long ropes of his sticky cum were beautifully decorating her inner walls, his thrusts fucking it deeper into her while he was slowly coming down from his own high.

Y/N was in full orgasmic bliss, her face flushed, her eyes glossed over, her once neatly done makeup running down her face as well as her face being all over the place. She was fully fucked out, making Spencer lean down and press a few loving kisses against her lips before he was pulling out and pushing himself to stand.

He disappeared off to the bathroom for a few moments, getting a warm bath ready for his girlfriend before heading back to the bedroom, a soft hum leaving his lips as he was carefully picking up his tired, fucked out partner.

“There we go. Let’s get you cleaned up.” He breathed, the woman letting her arms loosely wrap around his shoulders. She was still in the stage where she was crashing down from her high, so he was placing her gently in the warm tub before grabbing a washcloth.

As he was washing his girlfriend, he was looking up at her face once he could see the content smile on her face. “Hi,” He whispered, the two sharing a little giggle amongst each other. “Hi.” Y/N responded, leaning over to press a kiss against her boyfriend’s cheek.

“I hope you know, I might be flirting with more people more often if this is the outcome.” She joked, making Spencer laugh.

“Like hell you are.”

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inuyashaluver · 4 months

Text

saviour - alessia russo

alessia russo x reader

description: in which your girlfriend forgets everything, good thing you’re at home due to injury and being able to read her mind

warnings: swearing, nothing much i don’t think

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you and your girlfriend, alessia, had the power of reading each other’s mind. it was an unspoken, mutual understanding between one another, you just knew what they needed. just through a simple glance, you both had the ability to decipher the needs of your girlfriend, something you both got teased about relentlessly.

—

one day, you and alessia had just finished training drills, about to complete a mini game to wrap up practice. you were talking to beth about an upcoming england camp that she was finally able to come back to after her acl injury. you were a little breathless while talking to the girl, in desperate need for some water but you didn’t want to leave your conversation.

suddenly, beth stops her words at seeing a certain blonde approaching from behind you, smirking and claiming viv had called out to her. you watch her departing figure confused, until you feel a familiar, warm hand gently placed on your hip.

you can’t help but let out a little smile, turning to face your beautiful girlfriend who was looking at you with affectionate eyes. “oh, hello” you smile up at her, the girl returning your grin before directing a water bottle to your mouth. “hello, my love, drink up” she holds the water bottle for you, giving it a gentle squeeze, you hold her arms in place as you drink from the bottle, giving her a light tap on her wrist when you were done.

you grin at her appreciatively, “thank you, lessi baby” you pucker up your lips at her and she happily closes the gap, giving you a short, quick kiss before pulling away to face you again. “of course, baby, gotta look after my girl” she shrugs cockily, you giggle and give her a quick kiss on the cheek. you look at her hand holding the water bottle you drank from, ‘alessia’ in big, black writing prompting butterflies to swarm in your stomach.

a pink tint settles on your cheeks and alessia raises her eyebrows at you, she moves her free hand from your waist to rest on the curve of your jaw, “aw, my baby is shy” alessia teases, tone laced with adoration as she maintains sweet eye contact with you. “that’s your water bottle” you stated with a bright smile, “couldn’t find yours” alessia shrugs and this time you raise your eyebrows at her, your water bottle was always next to hers, she just wanted you to drink from hers.

“right” you remark unconvinced, the girl in front of you just grabs the water bottle and squeezes some water in her mouth, sending you a wink before bumping her hip with yours and running off to put her bottle back, leaving you completely flustered.

suddenly, beth returns, throwing an arm over your shoulder, you already knew you were about to be mocked for your pink cheeks. “the girl does practically nothing and you’re a puddle on the floor” beth laughs, viv joins her teasing, appearing out of nowhere on your other side.

“no, beth, i think it’s cute” viv teases, you shake them both off and run away, trying to get away from them and their teasing, until you bump into your girlfriend, she catches you instantly. “all right?” alessia laughs at your dazed face, you just nod and wave her off, running off to your national captain, leah for comfort but you ended up getting teased even worse.

everyone knew that it was always you and alessia, people honestly unable to pinpoint when the two of you started dating because your friendship was always heavily blurred at the lines of a romantic relationship. to put it simply, you and alessia just knew each other too well.

—

when you and alessia were separated, you both had to admit that it was extremely hard. you’d always been at arsenal, being in a long distance with alessia while she was at united was torture for both of you, now that she’s a gunner, being separated was just gruesome, not willing to put distance between the two of you again.

so when you pull your hamstring in a game, alessia was heartbroken, she couldn’t spend a big chunk of her day with the love of her life for over a week and a half. alessia is known to be clumsy, something that you loved to tease her about whenever you could. not only was she physically clumsy, this girl would forget to put on her socks if you didn’t remind her. alessia had a slight dependency on you to remember what she needed for the day, so you not being there to give her the friendly reminders proved difficult for alessia.

every night when alessia would pack her kit bag, she always made sure to do it in front of you. she would trail off in thought as she pondered what to pack, but you would happily chime in and remind her of what she needed. she would just stare at the bag and you would remind her of something like, “a change of clothes for after?” alessia would make noises of understanding, giving you a little kiss after each reminder (maybe this is why you both loved it so much) “oh you’re so right” alessia sighs, leaning down to kiss your lips sweetly before walking over to the wardrobe, grabbing a change of clothes, holding them up for your approval, you cheekily nod at her.

—

due to your small hamstring injury, you were out for a week and a half, meaning that you would be out of training for a short amount of time. instead, you would come along to training for a separate session after a quick physio session, staying with laura and leah for their rehab sessions. due to your sessions being at different times, you would carpool with leah to training or you would just drive yourself, your injury thankfully on your non-driving leg.

this whole driving situation was something alessia would complain about every morning.

“don’t give me that look, alessia, go to training” you say sternly, alessia sends you a little scowl, rolling her eyes at the use of her first name. “don’t call me alessia” she crosses her arms in front of her, standing in front of the closed door. “sorry, lessi baby, you’re gonna be late, go on” you coo, your hands wrapping hers around her car keys and giving her an encouraging smile but she wouldn’t budge.

“i’ll see you soon, lessi” you peck your girlfriend’s lips quickly and try to part from her but her grip around your wrist restricts you from any movement. “kiss me” she whines, pulling you closer to her gently. you shake your head at her amusingly, kissing her quickly on her lips but she immediately places her hand on the back of your neck to keep you to her. she swipes her tongue on your bottom lip and you can’t resist her even if you tried. she slips her tongue in your mouth and kisses you deeply, you sigh into her mouth when she gently grazes her nails on the skin on your neck.

you feel her grin into you, kissing you for a little longer before pulling away with a smug grin. “see? that’s all you had to do” she pecks your lips one more time before opening the door, “bye, baby” she mumbles on your lips, throwing you a wink before closing the door behind her. you smile at the back of the door, she was really something else, you thought. you look down and that’s when you see it, her kit bag, along with the smoothie you’d made her. you let out a little laugh, looking in the driveway to see she’d already pulled away.

you quickly get dressed and grab her stuff before hobbling over to your car. you’ll be at training a lot earlier than you need to be but you can just ogle over her from the sidelines.

by the time alessia had arrived at training, she went all the way to her locker, realising that she’d forgotten her stuff at home. she lets out a frustrated groan, “russo already needs her missus, what did you forget this time?” katie teases in the corner, gaining a little slap on the shoulder from caitlin warningly.

alessia sighs, unable to mutter up the strength to argue back because she felt so stupid for forgetting her stuff. training was in 10 minutes, home was 25 minutes away, she couldn’t go back. she pops down on the bench, a pout evident on her face as she whips out her phone to call you, feeling incredibly guilty she had to call her injured girlfriend to rescue her.

when she unlocks her phone, she hears your giggle coming from the hallway, one she knew better than anyone. she whips her head up, and that’s when she sees your bright grin, slightly limping into the room, alessia’s bag and her forgotten smoothie in each hand. she sends you a sheepish smile, shaking her head in embarrassment as you teasingly wave her items in your hand.

“long time no see, stranger, here you are, my love, delivery” you tease, handing her the items with a shit eating grin. “i’m so sorry” she quickly places the items down, pulling you to sit sidewards on her lap. you kiss her cheek reassuringly, “don’t be sorry, lovey, i’ll just watch you train for a bit before physio” you grab her hand and squeeze it reassuringly.

“god, i love you” alessia breathes out, thumping her head on your shoulder with a tired expression. “i love you too, beautiful, now go get changed” you squeeze her hand again and she removes her head from your shoulder. she makes eye contact with you and her cheeks go slightly pink, she smiles before puckering up her lips for a kiss which you happily give her, leaning in to place one on her lips.

you get up from her lap, shoving the kit bag in her hand and encouraging her to get changed. she smirks when you whistle as she takes off her hoodie, replacing it with her training shirt. “cheeky” she grins, giggling at your lovesick expression as you sat next to her.

training goes well, and your own session goes well, you end up going home before alessia, as she has media duties to attend to.

you make dinner for the both of you, completed when she walked through the door. “how did you know i wanted this for dinner?” alessia gasps excitedly, wrapping her arms around your waist and attacking your cheek with kisses as she squeezes you tightly. “girlfriend intuition” you smirk, leaning your head back to make eye contact with her. “hello” you smile brightly at her, she returns the gesture, kissing the tip of your nose. “hi” she replies softly, her pupils completely dilated as she looked at you.

—

that night, she was on the verge of sleep, promising you that she would pack her kit bag in the morning, begging you to come to bed because she was absolutely exhausted and honestly in a food coma. you hesitate but agree, feeling tired yourself, you both drift to sleep easily that night, tangled up in the bedsheets together as you both drifted to sleep.

the next morning, she’d woken up a little late, quickly rushing to get ready as quick as she could. she kisses your tired form on the bed goodbye, rushing out the door without another second wasted. you wake up five minutes later to see she’d forgotten her boots, as well as her morning smoothie that you’d pre made for her. you genuinely couldn’t help but laugh, your girlfriend still as clumsy as ever.

you quickly get ready for your own training, deciding to watch her again before your own session. you grab her stuff, as well as an extra snack as they had a longer session today, knowing that she’d want something for later. when alessia arrived at her locker, she quickly changes her clothes, training was in 5 minutes, she sits down on the bench ready to change her shoes, only to realise, she’d left her boots at home, as well as her beloved smoothie her girlfriend had carefully crafted for her, just the way she liked it.

“oh for fucks sake” alessia groans, throwing her head back in frustration. katie next to her opens her mouth to say something but alessia holds her hand out to her with a scowl. “not a word” alessia grumbles and katie surprisingly doesn’t argue back. alessia leans forward and puts her head in her hands, she was going to have to just do training in her runners, something she’d definitely get in trouble for.

she’s about to get up when she feels a warm hand on her thigh, a light squeeze following the contact. she snaps her head up, seeing your pretty face smiling at her worriedly. “are you okay, lovey?” you whisper, rubbing your hand up and down her thigh in attempts to calm her, completely working as you felt your girlfriend melt into your touch. she looks at you dazed, looking as though she was on the verge of tears at seeing you.

“baby” alessia whimpers, pulling you into a tight hug and tucking her face into the crook of your neck. you coo, rubbing comforting circles on her back. “it’s okay,” you reassure, kissing the side of her head gently, you pull away, handing her the boots, her smoothie and her snack.

she could’ve broken down right there, you knew her too well. “you’re literally my saviour, thank you so much, my love” she says earnestly, you just nod and peck her lips gently, ushering her to change and get onto the pitch. it was your last day of rehab, finally getting clearance to return to regular training, alessia was so excited.

now that you were back normally, alessia hardly ever forgot anything again..well, she would pretend to forget something at home just to coax kisses out of you, and you knew that, but none of you were complaining.

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you know the drill - pretend it’s you!! ily viccy bby

liked by leahwilliamsonn and 44,233 others

alessiarusso99: my baby is back, missed you so much

view all comments

yourname: my clumsy cutie, i missed you more!

↳ alessiarusso99: stop it, i’m not clumsy

↳ yourname: sorry, baby, but you are and it’s so cute

↳ alessiarusso99: i’m not!!

↳ ellatoone: alessia, be so fucking for real right now

↳ alessiarusso99: fuck off, tooney wooney

↳ yourname: it’s true, lessi baby

↳ alessiarusso99: time out

katie_mccabe11: thank fuck she’s back, you’d forget your head if she wasn’t there

↳ alessiarusso99: no comment for that

#woso #woso community #woso fanfics #woso one shot #woso x reader #woso imagine #alessia russo #alessia russo x reader

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runningfrom2am · 3 months

Text

cold nights // part four

summary: all the stars aligned, and it was you.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 2.9k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, r is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.

a/n: this is your reminder to reblog and comment on fics you like!! it helps us writers out a TON the girlies who get it get it. thanks!!

series masterlist // playlist

"I just have to ask you a few questions... is that okay?" Coriolanus asks, sitting across from you at the small table you find yourself chained to.

"Please." You nod, grinning at him. You were so tired, the bags under your eyes were evidence enough of that. Screw getting you food- Coryo is worried if you don't sleep you'll be all but useless in the games, even if all he needs you to do is run and hide.

"It's just so people can get to know you a bit better. Okay, so..." He looks down at the sheet in front of him, tapping the pencil against the table as he tries to focus on reading. "First, nice and easy, what is your full name?"

"Y/N M/N L/N."

"Great... Okay, and where are you from?"

"District Twelve, born and raised."

"How old are you?"

"Seventeen. I'll be eighteen next week." You smile.

"Oh, really?" He asks, pausing mid-sentence as he starts writing it down.

"Yeah." You smile. "Hopefully I'll live to see the day."

"You will." He tries to be reassuring as he scribbles the finished answer on his sheet. God, you got unlucky. Not that his eighteenth was a big celebration like some of his classmates, but Tigris made him a cake with ingredients she'd been saving up for and she refit his school uniform for him. You wouldn't even have that- you would be spending the day fighting for your life, if you even made it that long.

"And who is in your family unit?" He reads directly from the slip as he forces himself to move on.

"Well, there's me, my brother, he's fifteen, and then my ma and pa." You nod. "Well, my pa isn't home much. Lots of work in the mines; usually has sixteen-hour days. I hardly ever see him." You admit, sadness laced into your tone. "Saw him, I mean."

"My father died in Twelve." Coryo says, catching you off guard. He doesn't even fully understand why he felt the need to tell you this. "About ten years ago, it was rebels."

"I remember that." You reply quietly, recalling the lockdown placed on the District after the murder of a peacekeeper general. "He was the general. Crassus Snow, I assume?"

"Yes."

Everyone was forced into their homes at gunpoint, and in search of the responsible parties everyone you knew had their home destroyed by peacekeepers. Yourself included. Your bed was torn apart, and your mattress shredded for any hidden weapons or plans. Since then, you have shared a bed with your brother. A new mattress was hard to make, and your ma never got the free time or materials again.

Up until this week, that was the scariest day of your life. Just before the peacekeepers kicked in your door, your mother had grabbed the two of you and shoved you into an opening under the floorboards- a crawlspace made from a faulty foundation. You were in there for what felt like hours, listening to shouting and your home being ruined as you held onto each other with a hand pressed over your brother's mouth to keep him from crying too loud. Your mother's cries that day never seemed to end.

"It's a small world." You say after a solid few moments of silence, and Coryo can see it in the way you're staring at his paper that you're not reading it. You're zoned out completely. "I'm sorry that happened to you. It must have been scary."

"The war was hard on all of us." He responds. "What... what do you remember?" He had never heard anything about it besides the bare bones of what happened, he had never considered that the people of Twelve would remember it as well. And judging by the look on your face, it wasn't a good memory.

"I was about six, maybe seven, and I was playing with my brother, and I didn't hear anything but my ma must have because she grabbed us and hid us under the floorboards so fast I could have got whiplash. Peacekeepers came into our home, tore the whole thing to shreds, hurt my ma, then took off. Onto the next house. I didn't find out until a while later that rebels killed the peacekeeper general, they were looking for any evidence of conspiracy, I guess. The people who did it."

"Sounds like it was scarier for you than for me."

"But I want you to know," You speak so quickly you almost cut him off. "My parents had nothing to do with it. My pa is an honest, good man. All he ever wanted was to keep us safe. We're not rebels, I promise you that."

Coriolanus almost wishes you were, so he wouldn't be so hurt by what his people were putting you through. "I know. I wouldn't blame you for that."

"Thank you." You whisper, picking at your nails now as you look down at your shaky hands.

Coryo clears his throat, forcing himself to look away from you. "Uh..." He chuckles at the next question, making you look up at him again. "Are you married?"

"No." You reply, having almost completely forgotten about the worksheet in front of him. "I'm not."

"It's just... I just, I have to ask." He says, clearing his throat as he writes it down.

"Of course." You nod in understanding.

"Boyfriend?" He asks, and as you squint at the sheet you can see it's not there, and he quickly covers the next lines with his palm, cheeks flushing pink.

"Yes." You giggle as he snaps his head up to look at you.

"You do?" He asks, voice catching as his curls fall back onto his forehead from the sudden movement.

"Yes, what is so wrong in that?" You raise an eyebrow at him, trying not to laugh.

"No, no, I mean, of course you do, you're beautiful, I just, you never mentioned-"

"Relax, Coriolanus. I'm kidding." You smile at the panic in his tone. "No, I don't have a boyfriend."

"Oh, right. Thanks, it's just for, yeah..." He mumbles, pretending to write something down behind his cupped hand so you couldn't see.

You shake your head at him while he's not paying attention, smiling to yourself.

"So, uh, do you have a job?"

"Not formally, but my ma is a seamstress. I help her lots with that. Fixing people's work clothes, stuff like that." You answer, getting back on topic.

"Did you make your dress?" He asks.

"Now I know that question's not on that form of yours." You laugh. "But yes, my ma made it for me when I was five. It's been my favourite ever since."

He looked the parts of it over that he could see above the table. It was well worn down, but well cared for. Similar to a lot of his own clothing.

"It used to be this big, flowing thing. Too big for a five year old- I would step on the bottom of it, just tore it right up." You recall. "So we trimmed the bottom, and as I grew, it grew right with me. I stitched up the bottom when I was old enough to enter the reaping, so now it's got shorts instead. But I still love it, lots of good memories held in the pockets of this old thing."

Shorts instead. So it's easier to run in. The thought haunts Coryo for a moment. The idea that you, at twelve years old, decided this is what you would want to run in, to die in, and took the liberty of sewing up the crotch in it yourself. Every stitch possibly sealing your fate.

"It's nice. I like it." He responds.

"Thank you." You smile, nodding proudly to yourself as you look down at the fabric. "It's real comfy, too."

"It looks it. Not very... restricting." He chooses his words wisely. No wonder you had kept it so many years. It still fit, so why not? Especially when it looked so good on you. The typically plain, neutral tone of the fabric complimented your skin tone so well. Even in bad lighting, it seemed as though you were glowing where the cloth met your skin. Glowing everywhere, now that he thought about it. Maybe you just lit up every room you walked into. Maybe it wasn't the clothing that was made just for you and hugged your form so flawlessly, maybe it was just you.

"Yes, it is not." You agree. "Now, our time is limited. Next question." You interrupt his thoughts, gesturing to the sheet of paper in between you.

"Yes, sorry." Coryo chuckles, shaking the distraction from his head. "Any hobbies?

"Reading."

"I did know that." He smiles to himself. "Anything else?"

"Well..." You think about it for a moment, chewing your lip. "I have a cat, and I like to play with him and take care of him, does that count?"

"I'll count it." He nods, quickly jotting it down. "What's your cat's name?" He asks, purely out of curiosity.

"Tybalt." You giggle.

"Tybalt?" Coryo tilts his head at you and you nod, bottom lip drawn between your teeth.

He nods slightly, prompting you to explain. "He's named after a character from Romeo and Juliet."

"That's your favourite, I remember."

"Good king of cats, nothing but one of your nine lives." You quote. "Mercutio calls Tybalt the king of the cats, so I named him after that."

"That's clever. Very funny."

"Thank you. I thought so." You smile proudly, watching him write down your cats name in his notes. "What is this for, if I can ask?"

"Uh, there's going to be an interview you'll have to do the night before the games. It'll be aired live on Capitol television, and people will be able to send in donations so I can send you things in the arena. Just like I told you." Coryo explains.

"An interview?" You ask. "What does that entail?"

"Well, I'm not sure yet." He answers honestly. "But we'll pass this sheet onto the host, Lucky, if you remember him, and he can ask you questions about your family, your life, any of this stuff. I think really whatever we want, though, so if there's anything in particular you want to say or talk about I can write that down for you."

"Oh, I'm really not sure." You reply. "Nothing in particular, but if you need me to talk I can talk about books for hours on end." You smile.

"Could you do a monologue?" He suggests. He had discussed this with Tigris before, and he was hoping you would, but knowing you, you would be dropping quotes in your interview anyway so you might as well commit to it and display how smart you are with something well-planned.

"Maybe, if you could find me a copy of Romeo and Juliet." You smile. "I think I know it, but it would be nice to have a refresher. Just to make sure I get it right. Would be awfully embarrassing if I made a mistake."

Coryo nods, quickly writing that down in the margins of the page. Considering he had never even heard of this book, it may be hard, but he would certainly try for you. "That would be great. Your goodbye was very moving, although quite confusing for most, but it had people talking about you and that's what we want."

"Okay. I'll practice."

"Thank you." Coryo smiles. "And I just have one more question on here to fill out... Do you have any special skills that you think will be helpful in the games?"

Your smile fades slightly and you just shake your head.

"That's okay. We'll figure it out."

That night, Coryo came to see you again. You were curled up with his blanket, draped half over yourself and half over Jessup as he lay next to you. It was a small blanket, obviously meant for a child, but it helped anyway. Maybe it was just a placebo, but for you, that was more than enough.

As you got up, hearing him call your name in a familiar tone, you draped the blanket more fully over Jessup before making your way over to the bars of the enclosure. "Good evening, Coryo. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I brought you some things." He whispers, digging in his bag.

"How kind." You smile, watching as he pulls things out, handing you a napkin with some bread wrapped inside and tucking whatever else he brought under his arm to give to you after you've eaten. "Can you sit for a few minutes?"

"Of course." He nods, sitting down with you as you cross your legs and unfold the fabric carefully as not to drop what's inside. "I was hoping to talk to you anyway."

"Let's talk; it is not day." You smile, leaning toward him more.

"Should I be asking what that's from?" He jokes, but is surprised when you shrug.

"You could, but I wouldn't want to bore you." You giggle, shaking your head. "Take a guess, though. I believe you'd know it."

He smiles, watching as you take a bite out of the bread. "Romeo and Juliet?"

"Yes." You nod in confirmation, covering your mouth while you speak. "You're a real fan, now, aren't you?"

"I guess so." He chuckles. "The fact that I've never read it is unimportant."

"Completely irrelevant." You agree with a quiet laugh. His smile fades as his eyes land on something behind you, and you turn to follow his gaze over your shoulder. "What are you looking at?" You whisper, looking back at him again.

"Are you sharing everything I bring you with Jessup?" He asks, voice stern as his brow furrows at the question.

"I try to." You nod, taking another bite. "He's not well. I think something bit him the first night we were here."

"You can't." Coryo insists. Of course, he wants you to win, and you handing over every bit of sustenance or help you receive is only lessening your odds. Making Jessup stronger and you only weaker. "I know you're a good person, but once you get in that arena you won't have any friends. Not even him." Coryo explains, strategically skipping over the part where it makes him ill to see you sleeping with your head on the boy's shoulder and sharing the blanket that he gifted to you.

"Oh..." You say, so quietly he can hardly hear. "But-"

"Y/N." He cuts you off, a serious look on his face. "If you keep feeding him, keep helping him, and it comes down to you and him in the end, who do you think will win in that fight? If you had all the same nutrients and sleep, who do you think will win?"

"I- well..." You stutter, looking back at your friend. "It won't come to that. I think we both know that."

"We have to assume it will." He pleads, eyes now locked on yours. "Don't make it easier for him."

"Coryo, he's got a family, siblings, his ma to get home to. They need him." You protest, leaning closer so no one else could properly hear.

"So do you." He reminds you. The look of guilt that crosses your face indicates to him that even though you had your own family, something about Jessup makes you willing to give that up for him to get home. "What about Tybalt? He'll never know what happened to his own mother. Or your brother losing his sister. Y/N, please..."

Your eyes widen at the mention of your cat and your brother in particular. Clearly, Coryo is so desperate for you to listen that he's pulling strings he shouldn't. To make you hurt. To make you pay attention.

Tears fill your eyes as you speak. "I know." Your voice cracks, and the pit in Coryo's stomach tells him he's gone too far. "I'm sorry, I just- I don't want to be afraid anymore. It's selfish of me, I know, but I won't last long and I know that so I just want to get it over with." You cry quietly, reaching up to wipe your eyes on your wrist. You hadn't been so candid with him before, he almost doesn't recognize you without a smile on your face.

"Hey, no, don't be sorry. It's not selfish." He whispers, without hesitation reaching through the bars and resting his hand on your knee. Your skin is cold to the touch, even for him after he had just walked all the way here in the same air. "But it'll be over soon, and I'll get you home. I'll do everything I can."

You sniff and nod, hesitating before placing your hand over his. "I promise I'll do my best in the interview. I want you to win your prize."

Coryo's mouth gets dry at the insinuation. You didn't think you could win, you won't even consider it even with all the encouragement he tries to feed you every day, but you want him to win. "That's not important." He says, shocking himself with the sentiment. The Plinth Prize is his only hope at a viable future, at saving his family. But right now, he doesn't even care.

You don't respond right away, just sliding your hand under his to hold it. His skin on yours feels warm, comforting, the same way it did when he held it when you were first dumped in the zoo. You don't know if it's more comforting to you or him.

"I'm sorry to cry at you, I just sometimes realize what's going to happen to me and spiral over the possibilities and no matter how hard I try to accept it..." You shake your head, looking down at your hands. "I'm still fearful." Your voice drops below a whisper.

"Then don't accept it." Coryo grasps your hand tighter, leaning closer to you and looking at you through the bars. "Fight. Try to win."

taglist: @soulessjourney, @keziahcore, @that-veela-girl, @motorsport, @dreamyysouls, @rockstarbfs, @Lanadelrey3, @rawrmameh, @3zae-zae3, @babyspice6, @pastel0rchid, @maysileeewrites, @articxari, @Urfavpouge, @Multivitaminfy, @baybieruth, @kitscutie, @annaelise, @serrendiipty, @fratboyharrysgf0201, @totallynotkaibiased, @stelleduarte, @klplynn, @secretsicanthideanymore, @bejeweledreverie, @fals3-g0d, @drewsandsebastianswife, @niicole-87, @queenofshinigamis, @innercreationflower, @nallasstuff, @spring-goddess1, @baybieruth, @lovelyxtom, @throughgoeshxmilton, @enwonie, @scorpiolystoned, @iovemoonyy, @kodzuvk, @soupasoup, @eedwardss, @thatmarvelchick19, @wearemadeofstardust0, @regulusblackcore, @kbakery , @qardasngan, @omgsuperstarg, @kuroosbby001, @puredreamagination,

if your user has a strikethrough i wasn't able to tag you! i'm so sorry!

#tbosas fic #tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas x reader #coriolanus snow #hunger games #the hunger games #thg fanfic #thg series #thg #thg fanfiction #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus fanfiction #coryo x reader #coryo snow #snow x reader #snow lands on top

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taintedtort · 11 months

Text

prompt ✧ reader with a drained social battery

characters ✧ itto, scaramouche, kazuha, xiao

warnings ✧ gn!reader , none!

a/n ✧ this has been in my drafts for MONTHS. finally posting cus i haven’t written in a week..

ITTO

✧ doesn’t understand the concept of ‘low social battery’ , and since you weren’t in the mood to explain it to him, you’d have to cut the visit short and go home to sit in peace for a while.

“you’re going? where?” you felt awful after seeing the frown replace his happy smile he wore seconds earlier.

“i’m tired, im gonna go home, but i’ll see you tomorrow if you want.” you cringed slightly at the way his face fell even further. he reached forward and took your hand in his.

“aw man, but we were just getting started!” he pouted. a look of slight shock took over your features. just getting started? god, you’re already completely drained right now!

“i’m sorry, we can finish up tomorrow?” your tone was questioning, unsure if you should just stick it out to save his feelings, or go home to your private sanctuary. you had to admit, the latter sounded much more appealing.

a sigh left his lips before he lazily nodded, “okay, that’s fine.” he smiled once more before giving you a kiss on the forehead.

“i hope you feel better.”

SCARAMOUCHE

✧ completely understands, he hates unwanted company too. will take you to his private office away from the crowd of people and let you sit, alone or with him, he’ll let you decide.

“what?” you heard scaramouche ask, annoyance lacing his voice. you glanced over and plastered on a fake smile, “nothing, just tired i guess.”

you attempted to shrug it off, but he quickly grabbed your wrist and tugged you off into his office. you were a bit shocked, but mostly confused.

“stay in here, i can tell you’re uncomfortable,” he grunted, gesturing his head to his office chair, silently telling you to take a seat. you obliged and plopped down with a long sigh.

“you wanted to get out of there too, didn’t you?” you questioned, a small smile playing on your lips. when he simply replied with a curt nod, you let the room fall silent as you closed your eyes, attempting to gain some energy back. when you opened your eyes to glance at him, he was staring at you. a smile twitched onto your lips.

“thank you.”

KAZUHA

✧ he partly understands how you feel, but being on a boat, there isn’t a lot of quiet places to hide. he can easily recharge by sitting and simply staring at the ocean, peacefully listening to the bustle of people. but he knows that doesn’t work for you, so he tries to help the best he can.

“are you alright, love?” he quietly asked in your ear. your head snapped up as you halted your heads that were picking at your nails. you flashed him an uncomfortable smile before shrugging.

he gently took your hand in his and lead you to the storage unit inside the ship. it wasn’t completely quiet, you could hear people walking above you and the waves of the sea below your feet, but it was better than up there. you sat down on a crate with a grunt, relaxing your body. he stared down at you with a loving smile, pure adoration in his eyes.

“should i go so you can be alone for a little?” he gently asked. you raised your face to look him in the eye before shaking your head.

“no, please stay.”

XIAO

✧ understands better than anyone. you don’t even have to ask before he’s sweeping you off your feet and teleporting to a private place where you two can be alone.

“come here.” xiao gently tugged on your hand, pulling you towards him. you made a quiet noise of shock before making contact with his chest. his arms wrapped around you before a wave of warmth engulfed you and a flash of green and black invaded your vision.

you felt two taps on your cheek before your eyes opened, which you didn’t even remember closing. you looked around, taking in the scene of a beautiful spring right in front of you. the sound of the water and the trees moving from the gentle breeze made you break out into a smile.

you felt his arms loosen around your waist, letting you slip away and explore the new area. you took a seat on a rock near the water, looking around at the peaceful sanctuary. xiao stood behind you, watching you take everything in, your eyes full of wonder.

“is this okay?” he mumbled. you turned your body to him with a wide smile. blush covered his cheeks at the adorable sight.

“it’s perfect, thank you so much.”

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buckyalpine · 1 year

Text

Yours to Claim

King!Bucky x reader

Warnings: angsty, SMUTT, flufff, Arranged marriage, virginity loss, marriage consummation, bit of bleeding, King Bucky is a sexy, loving, protective warning.

You stood in your new chambers, fidgeting with the lace of your dress, eyes flickering to the various pieces of art work that decorated the walls; moments earlier you had signed your life away to a man you had never met before in exchange for an alliance over war.

A promise of peace if the two kingdoms united; an easy fix at no one’s expense.

Except yours.

You flinched at the sound of the door clicking shut, the king, and now your husband, silencing the hushed whispers on the other side before making his way over to you. Even if his advisors and servants were now quiet, you knew at least one would be lingering around the door way, listening.

Waiting.

You still hadn’t seen him properly, having kept your gaze down to mask the tears that had threatened to fall throughout the ceremony. To your surprise, he didn’t drag you to bed like you expected; instead he strode past and removed some of the many layers he wore for the ceremony before standing in front of you again.

“I hope everything's been to your liking princess-” You were caught off guard with his question, your eyes flicking up, surprised to find soft blue ones looking down at you. “-and that you’ll be happy here”

He cared about your happiness?

You nearly scoffed at the thought but his voice was sincere, not a hint of malice found. You hadn’t noticed before but he had a handsome face; a beautifully carved jaw under his his dark beard, delicately sharp nose, soft pink lips and if you looked for a moment to long, you’d get lost in his eyes.

Shaking the thought away you focused back to the matter at hand. It had to happen one way or another. You agreed to this for your kingdom, there was no point in having second thoughts now.

“They’ll be expecting us to...” Your voice trailed off, glancing off to the side at the large bed that was set in the middle of the spacious room, soft silken sheets and thick lush pillows neatly arranged by the castle maids. You knew how this worked. Love and affection didn’t matter, your marriage wouldn’t be considered legitimate until...

And if you didn’t-

One day you were living your life, preparing for the day you’d have the throne and now you were here.

To be seen in a way no one else ever had.

Touched in places no one dared lay their hands on.

You were now his property.

You tried to push the anxiety that started to claw at your mind, making your way over to the bed and sitting up right as you were taught, waiting for the man you were now tied to, to consummate the marriage. Your breath hitched as you felt the bed dip down beside you from where the king sat, surprised to feel his warm hand gently lay on top of yours, giving you a comforting squeeze.

“Princess we don’t have t-

“I want to” you tried to sound confident but your voice wavered, your breath hitching again when he tilted your chin to look at him, your eyes struggling to hold his gaze.

“This is my kingdom” he said with a firmness that was not directed at you but rather towards the distain he had for the rules that had put you in such a position in the first place, “I’d never force you to do anything, princess” The slight growl in his voice made your heart skip a beat; yet again, there was only sincerity in his words.

However, it was far more complicated for you.

You didn’t want to fail the very duties that had been instilled in you from the day you were born, not wanting the sacrifice you made for your family to go to in vain if anyone dared question the fulfilment of your wedding night.

“I want this” You looked directly at him with confidence but your eyes gave away your vulnerability.

“Then I’ll make it good for you, pretty one” He murmured, the pulse in your veins quickening when his hands came to cup your cheek as he moved you to lay down on his bed. He carefully tugged at the ribbons of your corset, freeing you from the constricting garment and tossing it aside before slipping off the rest of your dress. You felt exposed, lying bare against the cool sheets while he undressed himself; you couldn’t help but glance over at his toned body as he discarded his own clothes, corded muscles running under tan skin, scars from battle decorating his body

The worst was the scarring along his left shoulder, angry jagged lines running from his neck to his shoulder blade, some of the scars extending to his chest and arm. There were divots in his skin from where the cuts ran deeper than others.

It made him beautiful.

You looked away as his pants fell around his ankles leaving him in his all naked glory, feeling hot under his gaze. You instinctively squeezed tightly together, arms draped across your naked chest to cover your modesty. Your eyes were trained on the tapestry that was hung across the room, biting your lip when you felt him crawl onto the bed, kneeling before you, his knees on either side of your legs, bare skin touching yours.

“You’re allowed to look, princess” The king smirked at your flustered state, “I belong to you just as much”

You swallowed thickly, flicking your eyes back to him, involuntarily gripping the sheets finally seeing all of him from his long dark hair falling in waves to his shoulders, his frame broad and solid. A shiver ran down your spin as you continued to trail your eyes further down to his thick length, veins running along the shaft, curved towards him.

You were confused as he moved to lay down beside you, having expected him to lie on top instead but he didn’t; instead he kept his eyes locked with yours, moving your arm to uncover your breasts. You held your breath as he laid them aside, your nipples peaking against the cool air, still waiting for him to shove your legs apart and take what he wanted.

“You’re sure, princess?” He whispered, his face by yours, letting his warm hand rest on your tensed stomach, humming when you hesitantly nodded.

You bit a gasp as his fingers trailed down your body, coaxing your thighs apart, softly caressing the sensitive flesh as you tried to squeeze your legs together. He let out a soft chuckle, moving your thighs apart again, your eyes growing wide when his fingers dipped into your folds, smearing the slick that started to pool between your legs.

“I- you shouldn’t-” You didn’t understand what he was doing, your mind reeling when he moved his fingers close to where you were more sensitive, making it harder for you to control the noises that wanted to slip through.

“I should know every part of my wife” He trailed his fingers back up, watching you intently, his lips curving into a satisfied smirk when he brushed over your swollen bundle of nerves, a gasp escaping you when he pressed his fingers tips against it, “Her most sacred places”

Your breaths quickened, your walls quivering with need, a feeling you had never experienced before, already melting into the pleasure he was giving you.

“I made a promise to take care of you” he started to rub soft circles around your clit, humming and the moan you tried to bite back, your lip caught between your teeth. He pulled his hand away from your soaked cunt, his thumb still glistening with your arousal tugging down on your lip making you gasp.

“You don’t ever have to silence yourself with me princess” His voice dropped an octave, jaw clenched, the meaning behind his words deeper than wanting to hear how pretty you sounded as he pleasured you. He caressed down your body till he found your clit again, rubbing you with such care, building a steady rhythm that had all your nerves lit on fire. A coiling pleasure wound tighter and tighter with each stroke of his fingertips.

“You’re the softest thing I’ve ever touched” His hands had seen war, violence and bloodshed, scars and callouses evidence of his bravery and fierce loyalty to his kingdom.

And now to you.

“Such softness deserves to be loved” he whispered, dipping his head down to your chest, taking your nipple between his lips, gently suckling while continuing to rub slow deliberate circles around your clit. “And worshipped”

Your body moved on its own, your thighs spreading apart, giving him more access to you, your back arching off the bead, needy moans and whimpers filling the room as he switched to your other breast.

“Ooh-it feels-mmphh-” You couldn’t formulate words, hands blindly gripping at the sheets, squirming as he rubbed faster, a fiery pleasure starting to crawl down your spine. You could feel his hard length press against your thigh, your fingers twitching to wrap around him and soothe the ache of his swollen cockhead, his pink tip wet and leaking. He noticed your gaze flick down before looking away, loving your sweet innocence.

“You’re allowed to touch me, princess” He murmured against your cheek, taking your hand, trailing it between your bodies, moving it to wrap around his thick length. He moved your hand along his velvety shaft, his cock hard and throbbing against in your soft palm, “Every part of me is yours now too”

You let out a whimper, hesitantly dragging your hand up and down, learning to build a rhythm he seemed to respond to, listening to the low grunts and groans he made when you twirled your hand around the tip before stroking all the way back down to the base.

“Is-is this okay” Had he not been right beside you, he would have missed the whisper of your voice, a smile gracing is lips as you awaited his answer.

“Of course, princess” James rubbed tighter circles around you, determined to get you make you shatter in pleasure before taking you apart all for himself, wanting every intimate moment you spent with him pure bliss for you. You signed your life to him; he was going to cherish that in every way possible.

“oh-please-p-please!” Your eyes rolled back, your clit swelling as warmth began to spread throughout your body, the coil ready to snap, just a bit more- “Please-” You didn’t even know what you were begging for, your body chasing the building pressure that was holding you right over the edge. You found yourself tugging and stroking him faster, coaxing him to move closer, guiding him to where you needed him most, your cunt clenching, making a mess all over the sheets. His hips rutted in your hand as he slotted himself between your legs, keeping his body weight off you, propped on one arm as he lay above you.

“Please?” Your eyes were glassy, skin hot, a concoction of nervousness, excitement, lust and desire coursing through you as you moved your hands to grip onto his thick shoulders.

“Are you sure you’re ready?” His hand softly petted your hair, eyes swimming with concern, the blunt tip of his cock throbbing against your leaking cunt.

“Take me” you whispered, feeling your heart rate quicken when he reached down between your bodies to line himself up, pressing against your entrance. You whimpered, letting your nails dig into his skin at the burn, feeling his the tip of his cock push into you, stretching your tight cunt apart.

“Shhhhh” He cooed, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead as he pushed in further, trailing kisses down your nose to your lips, your grip nearly breaking the skin on his back. “I won’t hurt you princess”

You could feel his back muscles tense, focused on filling you slowly, finally joining together in a way that made you husband and wife.

“J-James” You didn’t even consider that you’d called him by his named instead of title, too lost in the feeling of him claiming you, hot pain and pleasure radiating through your body at the foreign sensation.

“I know, I know” he nodded against your neck, his cock splitting you open further, wider at the base. “Breathe, breathe, I have you” He could feel your pussy flutter and squeeze his length, trying to accommodate for his girth. He pulled away from your neck to brush the hairs that clung to your forehead, his thumb gently smoothing the crease between your brows.

“Look at me princess” he whispered against your lips as your cracked your eyes open, the sting slowly melting when you got lost under his blue gaze. He kissed your temple, lips pressed against your skin, your own nails clawing into his back as he fully sheathed himself inside you.

“May I?” He asked, giving you time to adjust to the feeling, only beginning to slowly rock his hips when you nodded, your legs moving to wrap around his waist, thighs squeezing his tapered waist.

“Feels-good” You let out a breathy moan, your legs trembling as he barely pulled out, pressing his cock in as deep as it would go, pushing you into the mattress. You clung around his body as he let his weight drop on you, keeping you covered under him while moving faster, his hand coming to lace with yours.

“So good to me” He rasped, squeezing your hands in his, moaning when he felt your pussy pull him right back in every time he pulled away. It was like you were made for him, every curve and dip of your body molded perfectly with his, your tight wet heat swallowing him entirely, taking every inch he was willing to give you. “You’re mine now”

“No one’s ever going to hurt you princess” His eyes hardened making your cheeks heat up under his protective gaze, dark hair falling around you in a curtain of intimacy. Your family may have married you off to bring peace to the land but he was not going to use that to his advantage to use you. He would take care of you and treat you like the queen you were, protecting his newest most prized treasure. You mewled against his lips, a stray tear slipping past your eyes, his lips kissing them away, a stark contrast to the way his cock was hitting deeper in your cunt, kissing your cervix as he fucked into you.

“I promise” he kissed your wrist, before pinning it against the mattress beside your head, thrusting faster, your moans loud enough to let the next kingdom over know you were at your husbands complete mercy in the most intimate and primal way possible.

“James-James-please-I” Your chest was pressed against his, eyes pleading for your release. He groaned, angling his hips to rub sensitive spot deep inside you making you see stars, spots starting to cloud your vision, the band ready to snap again. He panted, working his hips faster, rolling them, coaxing you further and further to the edge. He could feel his own orgasm ready to burst, gritting his teeth, determined to take care of yourself before giving into his own.

“Let go my princess, let go for me, I have you”

“JAMESS”

He held you tightly as you fell apart on his cock, moaning at the sting of your nails dragging down his body. Your cunt milked and squeezed him, desperate for him to give you everything drop he had. He wrapped his arms around your body, tucking his face against your neck, sinking his teeth into your soft flesh, unable to hold back when he felt your hands card through his hair, softly grazing his scalp before giving it a gentle tug.

“Let-let go for me” You whispered softly in his ear, wanting him to know you accepted him just as much as he accepted you, needing him to understand you saw him as your husband, not just your king. “My James”

“My princess” He groaned against your skin, pushing himself as deep as your body would allow, hot spurts of his seed filling you till it dripped onto the sheets. He continued to softly rut into you, riding through both your highs until he was spent, his cock beginning to soften inside you.

“I have you, I have you angel” He whispered, rubbing up and down your back, his nose buried in your hair, kissing down the column of your neck to your shoulders. “Do you feel alright”

You whimpered at the loss of him as he pulled out, a dull soreness beginning to settle between your legs. Your eyes grew wide at the dots of red that stained the sheets, pouting when you felt a loss of warmth as your husband sat up.

“Lie down angel” He cooed, moving you to lay on his side of the bed and tucking you under the plush sheet before swinging his long legs to the edge of the bed. You reached out for him, your fingers softly grasping at his wrist, wanting to feel him hold you when you felt so vulnerable.

“But-”

“I’m going to take care of your princess. I told you, you’re mine now. Mine to care for” He made his way over to the water that was set aside in the room, dipping a clean cloth to dampen it before making his way back over to you. He carefully wiped you down, between sweet words of how he’d forever put you first, a vow he made when he agreed to marry you. He wiped away the tears that spilled down your cheeks before getting up again to toss away the cloth.

He caught a glance of himself in the mirror, his skin now decorated with new marks left by you, a proud smirk gracing his lips, happy to add a scar, this battle being his favorite one of all.

The one to your heart.

One he’d have to earn with patience and love, this night being the first of many.

“The sheets-” You blinked up at him as he slipped between the covers, pulling you to his chest, cocooning you in his warmth.

“Will be for my eyes only” He murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead, deciding he’d only allow your ladies in waiting to ever enter the chambers, ones that were loyal to you and that you trusted. “You’ll be safe with me”

You relaxed in his hold, closing your eyes and falling asleep to the steady beat of his heart, the anxieties that clawed at your chest disappearing into the night, your heart melting for the man you now were honored to call yours.

The king.

Your James.

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y3ager · 5 months

Text

STORYTIME I (26 F) FUCKED MY SUPERSTAR CLIENT (24 M) AFTER MONTHS OF SEXUAL TENSION!

— ‘i’m a manager for a pretty big music label and my client is the biggest dickhead in the world but i fear i fucked him after one of our usual arguments.. 😵‍💫’

eren y. x black!fem!reader

tags: modern au, smut, porn not much plot, hate(?)sex, cunnilingus, cowgirl, reader gets called ‘mama’ and ‘boss’, unprotected sex, mild choking, musician!eren, manager!reader. minors do not interact.

my first collab entry MAKE SOME NOISE YALL WTF!!! but no seriously thanks so much to @k9nto for letting me join your event i had a blast writing this! hope you all enjoy! 🤭

YOU’VE ENCOUNTERED SOME annoying people in your life. in kindergarten, a boy taunted you by picking up one your fallen hot pink knocker-balls and refusing to give it back to you. in high school, some chick named tiffany ripped down all of your junior class president posters that you spent weeks designing and printing out on the highest quality paper. your college advisor had been completely useless, you’d still be dragging yourself through your bachelor’s degree if you didn’t stay on your toes and realize the classes you were dropped in were a waste of time. but all of these people, and many more that have slipped your mind, shaped and molded you into the woman you were today. strong, tenacious, independent, a go-getter who never gave up and thus was able to reap her hard work, in the form of three nice crisp degrees and a never pitiful bank account.

but eren yeager, grammy award winning singer, songwriter and musician, with multiple weeks spent at the top of the billboard hot 100 and 200 charts, millions of units sold worldwide, and stadiums packed to the brim, took the fucking cake.

you were warned he’d be difficult. every manager he’s assigned quits before one of them ends up in a body bag. none of them have a single nice thing to say about him, and he finds that hilarious.

for better or for worse, you took the challenge because you’re a sucker for them. nothing in life comes easy, and you figured that the managers before just didn’t come hard enough. maybe eren’s fame and status made them falter, but such a fate wouldn’t befall you.

you dragged him to his magazine shoots, you kept his mouth in line during interviews, you kept his socials clean. he was never a second late to rehearsals and recordings. he was a reflection of you, and if you were perfect goddammit he was going to be too.

until today.

“i’m not putting in another extension, eren. the label is starting to get really irritable. we need to go to the studio now.” you furiously swiping along your ipad, pacing around the singer’s deluxe hotel room. while you’re dressed for the day in clean crisp clothes, sharp stilettos, and jet black lace front expertly melted and laid, eren’s still in the bed. the covers are everywhere, his shirt is next to a couple pillows on the floor, and he’s laying on his back eating a croissant from room service, paying you absolutely no mind. it takes everything in you to not chuck your device at his big head. “i’m serious. get. up.”

“and i said i’m not,” he mocks your assertive tone, voice oozing in sarcasm. “going.” he coughs, obviously faking. “my voice hurts. can’t make those greedy bastards money if my vocal chords ache. they’ll live.”

“you are on a strict deadline this era. if you want to catch award season, this album needs to be finished and dropped in the next month. amidst the press tour, your window of recording time is dwindling fast.” dates in your digital calendar glare at you, red and angry. every time you check something off your to do, ten new things pop up. you feel your jaw clenching, teeth gritting together uncomfortably.

“i’ve won enough awards. i don’t care. i’m not getting up.” eren finally raises up from the bed, narrowed green eyes meeting yours. it’s fire against fire, an unstoppable force that is a manager determined to do her job versus an immovable object, a musician who’s not budging from his spot. “it’s my album. it’s my music. i finish it when the fuck i get ready. that label will burn before they drop me.”

“if you don’t follow contract, they will drop you. they put a lot of money into you-”

“money i made back for those dumbasses-!”

“they are your bosses, without them-”

“they need me way more than i need them-!”

“get,” you toss your ipad over to a small couch, storming over to the bed. you snatch the edge of the covers and yank hard. enough is enough. if he won’t get up, you’ll make him get up. “the fuck out of this bed, eren, now!”

“you need,” the cover is yanked back, tugging you forward along with it. you lurch momentarily before righting yourself upwards, leaning back to give yourself more leverage in this childish tug of war you find yourself in. “to calm the fuck down, ___. i’m not going and that’s fucking it.” eren may be lean, but he’s toned like a MMA fighter, muscles rippling under tan skin when he calls upon them. another tug and you topple onto the california king bed, one expensive heel sliding off your foot and falling across the room.

your heads snaps up from the covers, brow furrowed deep in anger. “stop being so fucking difficult, you moron!” emotions welling, you grab one of his arms, preparing to drag him out of this bed. your to do list is a nagging itch on your brain that by the grace of god you are going to scratch. you’re not about to let this bad-with-authority dickhead best you when all he has to do is record a fucking vocal.

“oh, we’re doing this?” easily, too easily, so easily that you register your back hitting the soft bed before you realized he even grabbed you back. he pins you down easily, slightly calloused hands grip your upper arms firmly, pushing them down. he places his legs other either side of your hips so yours are forced in between them, but doesn’t keep you from writhing to free yourself. “whatever fucking—stop doing that—chip you have on your shoulder, you need to fucking solve it because shit’s not going your way today. i’m not going and that is final.”

the tussle leaves you two of you panting, eyes boring into each other’s. eren’s long chocolate brown hair is disheveled not only from a night’s sleep but from this impromptu wrestle. small beads up sweat trickle down his naked chest. your writhe again, and he presses down against you, a synonymous hiss sliding through both of your mouths.

“i hate you, eren.”

“whatever helps you sleep at night, ___. looks like you wanted an excuse to feel up on me.”

“oh, like you wanted an excuse to hump me like a mutt?”

there’s another beat of silence as you two watch each other. eren’s hands tighten their hold just a tad before he presses his hardening length hard against your clothed cunt. against your better judgement, your head tilts back and a small moan fights against your bitten bottom lip.

eren hums lowly, his dick bulging against the constraint of his boxers. “hate me too much to actually fuck me, huh? i’m only worth a dry hump.”

oh how eren frustrates you. how he makes even the simplest things in life painstakingly difficult. how he makes you want to smoke ten packs of cigarettes after a day of dealing with him. but oh, how handsome he looks under the lights at photo shoots. how his deep, smooth voice reverbs in your ears. how his fingers move so deftly on his guitar, as if it’s merely an extension of his body. who wouldn’t fantasize about that late at night, him bending you over and snatching down your pants to fuck the stress out of you, or yourself knocking him down a peg and making him beg to let you cum inside.

“shut-” another roll of his hips makes you gasp. “up..”

“i want you, ___,” eren confesses. his hips don’t falter, his cock becoming hungry for release. “i want that pussy. i wanna fuck that little attitude out of you, can i? i see how you look at me and i stare right back.”

you shiver, hand rushing to undo your dress pants and feel more of eren’s dick against your dampening cunt. his hands work with your perfectly, yanking your pants down. it’s a whirlwind of clothes, your sweater, bra, your other shoe.

eren reaches up to grab your breasts, rolling them in his palms, squeezing the supple flesh, pushing them together. “oh, pretty girl. pretty fuckin’ tits.” leaning down, he kisses down your sternum, stomach, inching closer and closer to your center. he wastes no time grabbing your thighs and licking a nice, long stripe against your drooling cunt and sucking on your clit.

your back immediately arches up and your hands fly to grip eren’s hair, tugging at the locks and pulling him in closer so you can feel everything. “oh my god, eren.” the singer’s not shy at all, audibly sucking at you and reaching up to twist and pinch your pebbled nipples.

with another languid lick eren pulls himself away. he pulls his boxers down on and off, freeing his dick from the constraint. he rubs the thick, weeping tip up and down your slit, staring hungrily at the juices leaking out. the feeling of it makes you shiver in anticipation.

“mmm, mm-mm.” you push yourself up. “let me get ‘n top..” there’s a greedy look in your low eyes as you place your hand on eren’s solid chest and lay him down on the bed.

“take charge here too, huh?” your forwardness makes him chuckle as he watches you straddle his waist. “okay then. ride me.”

you brace yourself on your toes as his hand and yours grasp his shaft, directing it to your pulsing hole. you slide down gingerly onto him, his size quickly stretching you out. “ahh, fuck, eren. fuck…”

“you got it,” he assures you, one hand on your thigh as you sink lower and lower, taking him in inch by inch. he bites his lip at the wet tightness of your walls, squeezing and sucking him in. it makes him throw his head back, a couple of small pants escaping his mouth. “mmhm, fuck that pussy feels so good. take that dick, boss.” his hand raises only to land on your ass check with a sharp slap.

you start out slow at first, letting yourself adjust to the wideness of his dick but that quickly gets old. you’re soon addicted to the feeling of him fitting inside so perfectly. gripping his free hand in yours, you swivel and raise your hips faster and faster, effortlessly, desperate for that feeling of him pounding that oh so sweet spot. your juices slide down his length, the slap slap slap of your ass against his muscled thighs filling the room. “‘s so big, feels so good,” your voice slurs.

eren hisses from his spot under you, eyes trained on where you two connect. mouth slightly agape, he watches your cunt swallow him up and the fluid that leaks out. “yes, mama. keep fucking me just like that. feels.. f-fuckin’ amazin’…” his hands grab your plump ass cheeks, fingers digging in hard as he thrusts his hips up, driving the tip of his cock even deeper inside you and pulling a loud moan from you. “keep goin, mama, ‘m almost there, don’t stop, please..”

his pleading make you clench even tighter around him, and that feeling deep inside your tummy aches for release. you place a hand around his throat to better balance yourself, relishing in his low groan. your thighs quake and tremble, your hips meeting his eager thrust perfectly. “oh, my god; oh my god. i’m— shit!” you throw your head back in ecstasy, cumming hard enough on your client’s dick to leave you numb.

“aw, fuck, boss.” eren thrusts up to push his cum deep inside, holding you against himself to ensure a single drop doesn’t leak. “take it, take it..”

the two of you are left panting hard, bodies sweaty and gleaming with the afterglow of sex. you gingerly pull away, cunt left sore and spent from a round of sex months in the making. eren reaches over to caress your ebon lips, admiring the smooth, wet feeling once you roll onto your back. “no more attitude from you, yeah?”

“no more attitude from the man reduced to calling me ‘mama’ and begging to cum either, i’d assume.” your teasing laughter is cut off by him purposefully sinking three fingers deep inside you. “mmh…”

“mhm, sure.” roles reversed, eren climbs on top of you and stares down with green eyes aflame with lust through his tousled brown hair. “now i want to see what i can make you call me.”

#eren yeager x reader #eren yeager x black reader #eren jaeger x black reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren jeager x black reader #eren jeager x reader #eren x reader #eren x black reader #🏙.aotmodern #❤️‍🔥.aotsmut #kishibyesredditcollab

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siempre-bucky · 2 years

Text

Silk

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Fem!Reader

Summary: Jakes comes to your door after a night of drinking, his brain goes haywire after seeing you in a silk nightgown.

wc: 1.7k

a/n: i love old silk nightgowns and i wanted to create something soft and delicate bc soft!jake just does it for me...enjoy!!

You turned off the last light in your little housing unit, kicking aside bubble wrap from the few boxes you’d brought with you to Top Gun. You hummed to the tune of the romantic oldies music playing from your record player, softly swaying side to side as you grabbed the decorative bottle that was on your bar cart. Your long silk nightgown flowed as your rotating fan hit the cream-colored material.

A drink in one hand, your midnight snack in the other, you made your way to the dark hallway with your bedroom light being your only guide. There was a gruff tap on the door, the knocker dragging their knuckles down the door. You stilled at the knocking, it was almost eerie. Placing your items on the side table you grabbed your matching silk robe off the arm of the couch.

The knocking happened three more times as your bare feet padded along the cold wood flooring, your hands nervously fiddling with the tie. You took in a cautious deep breath before peaking into the peephole. It wasn’t a man dressed in black with a ribbed ski mask over his face or the little old man from down the street. It was Jake.

You opened the door and his slumped figure stood up straight, the vertebrae of his spine cracking with each inch he rose. “Jake,” you breathed out, looking out at the dark street. There wasn’t a car in sight, then you caught a whiff of the pungent smell of beer. “You’ve been drinking,” you noted out loud, “how’d you get here?”

“Phoenix,” he slurred, trying to hold himself up.

“She didn’t take you home?”

“You were closer.” Your eyebrows lowered at his softly spoken words. It made sense, God only knows if Hangman would be able to get himself into bed after that much to drink.

His green eyes looked you up and down, the beautiful silk glowed in your porch light. Heat rose to his already warm cheeks, and a peony pink dusted his cheekbones. Have you always worn things like that? Was he interrupting a romantic evening with a stranger just beyond the front door. It was a good five seconds of both of your brains trying to come up with solutions to their unspoken questions. His mind only put you into focus, your soft features, and that dress. Jake’s green eyes were the first to break eye contact, his chin dipped and his eyes shifted to the delicate lace around the hem that hit just above your ankle. He didn’t dare to look back up, following the high slit up your thigh. “Come inside,” you told him, standing to the side and allowing him in.

The blond entered the house, his blurry eyes not seeing the small step and instantly making him crash into you. His hand found the small of your back while your hands gripped his black t-shirt to prevent yourself from falling over. “S-sorry,” he stuttered. Your eyes didn’t leave his face, he’d never been this close before. Well, not in a way that wasn’t the two of you getting in each other's faces in the heat of an argument after training or missions. The different shades of green in his eyes seemed impossible to count.

Jake felt the palm of his hand begin to tingle as he held you up. His fingers grazed your back, the soft material combined with his mildly calloused hand felt—right. How many men have gotten to touch you wearing this? He thought as he stopped his movement. “S’alright,” you responded through a bated breath. You shifted around, draping his arm over your shoulder and leading him over to the couch. There was a small problem with the little government-issued loveseat. Your eyes swiveled from Jake’s tall frame to the blue couch—there was no way Seresin was fitting on that. “You can take the bed,” you whispered, turning towards the hallway.

The two of you walked in silence. It was odd how it wasn’t an awkward silence; Jake was plastered and you were well, dressed like that. Jake did his best to walk by himself, every so often he’d crash into you. His bodyweight made you grunt, your hand placed on his stomach to help brace him.

He stumbled into your room, reluctantly freeing himself and stumbling to the foot of your bed. He plopped down and rested his hands on his knees, a soft groan escaping his lips. You stood against the doorway just observing how slowly he moved and how all of his muscles tensed.

He looked up at you once more to take it all in. His foggy brain was trying to string along coherent sentences, his eyebrows lowered as he stared. In return, you folded your arms over your chest, trumpet sleeves of your robe falling in front of you. “Do ya always wear that to bed?” he asked, his thick accent perking your ears.

You bashfully looked down at the floor. “When I’m home I do—reminds me that I’m still a girl,” you said, a small smile forming as you looked up at him through your lashes.

Jake’s face fell. It was easy to get lost in a sea of green flight suits and khaki uniforms in their profession. He’d seen you in formal dresses and casual sundresses when you went out with the team, this was much more, delicate—feminine. Turned his brain to a pool of pink heart shaped goo. He recalled a ball just after graduating from flight school, you and Phoenix for one of the first times got to dress up. “Sometimes it’s easy to forget y’all are still girls under those flight suits and helmets,” he teased. You got in his face that evening, telling him you could outfly him in heels. He fell in love with you that night.

“I shouldn't have said that to you that night,” he admitted, sitting up a little straighter.

“I didn’t take it personally,” you assured him. You held your tongue between your teeth, preventing yourself from saying that you did all this for your benefit, and not a mans, but you’d be more than happy for him to take it off of you. You bit down harder when you recalled the fantasies you’d fall asleep to time and time again of him, with his hand running up your thigh, pushing the silk closer to your waist—

“Still…” he managed, cutting off your thoughts.

There was a long pause, the trumpet from the record player in the other room provided distant background noise. He stood as the music swelled, a whole band joining in as he sauntered to you. Every step he took was careful as if he was afraid to startle you. “Widow,” he spoke, the mention of your callsign making your chin rise to meet his longing stare. “Y/N.” Your name on his tongue was what did you in.

“Y-yes,” you breathed.

“You’re—” he paused again. You managed to look at the small movements his captivating face made: hesitant, searching. “Pretty.”

Pretty.

Jake Seresin was a man that had a way with words when it came to seduction. After a drink and a prospective date located, he turned into a thesaurus in an effort to woo her. Yet here he was, drunk and calling you pretty. The word still had its effect on your soul; a family of butterflies aggressively swarmed your stomach, your heart skipped a beat and sent a wave of warmth through you while your ears and brain worked together, committing the way he called you that to memory. He wasn’t trying to pick you up and take you home—he was just being honest.

You smiled.

“It’s the nightgown,” you justify, slinking away from him.

Jake caught your wrist, gently pulling you back towards him. “You’re always pretty,” he told you.

“You say that to all the girls,” you chuckle, suddenly slipping into the same old banter.

The pilot released your hand and saw how your robe was coming undone from your movement. He shook his head and looked at you for approval. Your lips parted but you managed to nod shyly. His strong hands pushed aside your robe and a breath hitched in his throat as it fell off your shoulders. The cream spaghetti straps of your nightgown barely clung to your shoulders. A fuse blew in his brain as he looked at your chest, barely covered by delicate lace and dotted with pearls. “No,” he spoke, putting his hands on your waist. “Just you. It’s always been you.”

“I-I don't live closer to the bar,” you said, suddenly recalling his excuse from earlier.

“I know,” he said, pressing his lips against yours.

He kissed as flawlessly as he looked. His lips were soft and tasted of faint cherry Chapstick, they glided along yours like they were meant to be there. Perhaps they were. You drop your hands, your robe pooling around you before you wrap your hands around his strong neck.

Lips gently smacked as he deepened the kiss, guiding you back to the foot of the bed. You removed your hands as he sat down, you hiked up your gown and straddled him, sitting back on your knees. Jake gently held the sides of your face while he kissed you, his teeth dragging along your lower lip. You dipped your hands under his shirt, rock hard abs ridden with nerve induced goosebumps.

Jake pulled back and took your hands, bringing them up to his gaze. “I’m still drunk,” he said softly, pressing a tender kiss to each of your palms, his green eyes never leaving your peaceful face. You nodded in response and let your tongue swipe your lips, tasting the remains of his kiss. Ever the gentleman.

“Will I still look pretty in my flight suit tomorrow?” you questioned him as you traced his features with your fingertips while his fingers traced the lace on your back.

Jake chuckled, “No one can fill out that shapeless uniform like you can, darlin’, no one in the world can look as pretty as you. No matter what you wear.”

Leaning forward, you gently lowered him on the bed, your arm extending to turn off the light. The last thing Jake saw was you hovering over him, your nose scrunching as you smiled approvingly. He rolled you over, placing loving kisses on your jawline leaving a trail of complements in his lips wake.

#jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x fem!reader #hangman x reader #hangman x fem!reader #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin fanfic #hangman imagine #hangman fanfic #jake seresin fluff #top gun #top gun maverick

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captainpondlilly · 4 months

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Okay! The Gilear plush has arrived. This is my best attempt at all of his lines. Two have been unintelligible to me, and several are pretty long and fast which made it hard to follow.

My search history is.. hospitals near me, foot stuck in object, head stuck in object

You're low, he's low, It's Gilear's day baby!*

A guy on the street kicked me in the nuts as hard he could

I don't like "lunchlad"

Help me to understand what I have done to deserve this

My horoscope says "today is a good day to die motherfucker"

I ate a quick cup of yogurt on the way over here to bolster my spirits after I changed, I'm ever so sorry

What do you mean "When" life gives you lemons

I went to apply for the guidance counselor position but I was usurped by a drug dealing werewolf named Jawbone

In my haste to put the armor on I buckled the leg plate and think I clipped the tip of my penis against one of the leg plates and Everytime I move it feels like it might fall off so I ASSURE you demon I have no pride to speak of!

In highschool I was voted "Most Likely To Get Pushed Out Of A Tree"

My car was repossessed by the ride share app that I was working for

It's actually a good thing that no one came to my birthday party because the bounce house flooded and was swept out to sea

I just discovered that *all* of my emails have been going to everyone's spam

Unfortunately I have been banned from that hot air balloon service not because of anything that happened to me in particular but the guys who run it just sort of know my whole deal

Mmm this yogurt tastes like *potatoes*

I asked the woman at Home Depot why my plants kept dying and she said it seemed like they were reaching away from the sun

I've found out recently that one of my shoes is so filled with mildew because a pipe in my bedroom is leaking and I've developed a fungal infection in my foot which I didn't know was possible for elves to get

I don't think that I've ever "Peaked" in that we started neutral and have been going downhill ever since

I am currently trapped in a storm drain. The bottom half of me is above the ground, the other is below

Another Own Goal for Gilear Faeth, yes

Everyone knows you eat 7 spiders in your sleep every year, but I have a bunch coming into me the backway

My sandcastle I'm afraid was destroyed, as I was about to finish it, the tide came in and with it a man holding a bazooka who shot me and killed me

I know you're not going to believe this but Ive just been kicked by a snake

I found out the hard way that people can legally reject status as an emergency contact

The title of my autobiography is going to be Gilear Faeth: Please Stop

On my way here I was carrying a large bowl of Italian wedding soup which shattered on the ground in front of me and several of the small pasta balls rolled through the cracks and alerted vermin to my presence. I've since learned after a trip to the hospital I am deathly allergic to the sting of millipedes which is a way of me saying I need someone to come down to the hospital and pay for this. There is a doctor holding a gun to my head and now that I think about it this clinic is in the back of a storage unit and I think have gone to the wrong place

he said and I quote "he'd stomp my goon ass" if I ever got on his bus again

Gorthalax it was very nice to meet you, you've made a cuckold of me

We're the throw up boys!*

I've been informed that the brownies I consumed were laced with cannabis and rat poison

I am completely unprepared for the perils ahead and am deeply frightened, I'll go get the coffee

A gorilla monster punched me so hard in the back of the head I died

Today I have been hit by 3 scooters

Everytime you squeeze my hand it breaks several small bones

My imaginary friend as a child ghosted me because he said I was too depressing

Do you want me to go back? I warn you, it will break me

Can I interest you in an herbal soda? You must understand I am an intern at a ponzi scheme*

When I go to sleep at night I dream of a world where I might be able to walk through a field without stepping on a rake or gopher hole

If anyone needs me... I will be surprised.

If it wasn't for bad luck, Id have no luck is both true and what was written upon the billboard I crashed through

I wonder if any of these will feature in Junior year 👀

*Thanks to @cappa-cappa for telling me the lines I wasn't able to make out!!

#d20 #dimension 20 #naddpod #bahumia #brian murphy #emily axford #brennan lee mulligan #gilear faeth #siobhan thompson #lou wilson #ally beardsley #dropout #spire #fantasy high #fantasy high freshman year #fantasy high sophomore year #fantasy high junior year

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readychilledwine · 2 months

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Somnophilia

✨️Kink Education with Elizabeth✨️

Somnophilia, or the Sleeping Beauty Syndrome, is the interest or sexual arousal in the idea of having sex with a Sleeping partner. Somnophilia is considered a predatory type of kink or paraphilia. Somnophilia is a pretty interesting kink/paraphilia psychology is still studying.

Some people enjoy it due to the power they feel when their partner wakes up, surprised by pleasure. These partnerships typically have prediscussed consent. Some people enjoy it because they have total power in the situation and have expressed frustration when their partner wakes up. Some people who expressed frustration also referenced using sleeping medication on their partner to prevent them from waking leading psychologists down darker path while studying this kink.

There's a lot of gross things we could get into when discussing somnophilia, but I'll be honest, I'm not interested in discussing the darker side of the kink world on this one. I'm just interested in you all getting to read about Rhys helping reader's delicious dreams come true.

💕Peep the Valentines Day List Here💕

As always, NSFW below the cut

Rhysand x Reader

Warnings - mentions of alcohol, reader is asleep (which should be given), Rhys using his powers over the mind for a little bit

Rhys hated long nights away from you.

He hated being trapped in a room with 7 other egotistical males, no advisers involved, trying to talk through issues between them all that had happened years ago while the highest of the Priestesses sat and mediated.

There were times when that poor female needed, no deserved, a drink more than he felt he did, but he knew this was for the fae they all looked after. One united front. A united realm. A goal Rhysand had dreamed of since he was a boy, a goal made possible with the death of Beron and Eris's rise. Now the last hitch was he and Tamlin. And Gods did having to air their dirty laundry to every High Lord piss him off.

He finished the last bit of his wine, annoyed as he held the empty bottle in his hand. It was then a dance of something came across the bond. Something so faint he knew you were projecting it in your sleep, but it had his attention nonetheless.

Rhys went up the stairs, entering your shared chambers as quietly as he could. He was greeted by the soft whisper of his name ringing in his ears like the melody of a siren's spell.

There, laying in the bed that until recently he slept alone in, was you with your head buried into his pillow. He could tell by the half empty wine glass and the book on the bed, you had drifted off to sleep suddenly. He approached slowly, studying the silk and lace nightgown adorning your body as he took off his own clothing.

It was then that it hit him, another soft moan of his name as your legs shifted, rubbing together before subconsciously falling slightly apart, exposing your glistening core to him. The scent of your arousal flooded his nose, intoxicating him as he crawled on top of you, holding your mind in that blissful dreamy state.

His cock twitched as he stared at your wet folds, at your cunt just squeezing around nothing. You looked so peaceful, so happy, so submissive and usable. He held your mind a little tighter, waiting until you moaned again to shift you and place one of your legs on his hips.

He ran his cock through your folds, biting his lip to hold back a moan at the wetness and warmth that greeted him. Rhysand then tool a breath, centering himself before entering you slowly inch by inch. Your lips fell open into the perfect o, breath stilled, a more desperate whimper left your mouth as he began to move in and out of you.

Rhysand had not felt control like this in years. He cherished every deep plunge, every drag of him against your soft walls. He cherished the way your breath was hitching, moans falling more spurring him on.

He could feel your mind starting to fight to wake up as he dragged down the night gown and exposed your breasts to himself. Your peaked nipples were like a treat just sitting and waiting, aching for his mouth and hands.

He didn't have time for that right now, though. You were on the brink of orgasm. He felt every sped up pulse of you, every wiggle. He released your mind right as your core tightened. You woke up barreling through an orgasm, hips lifting as your leg wrapped around a body.

You realized it was Rhysand slowly, a smirk playing on your lips as he took the nod you gave him as permission. His rough hands moved to your ass, gripping the plush flesh there, and he began pounding.

Each thrust was so hard, so deep, you had to put a hand on the headboard to stop yourself from being slammed into it. Rhysand's eyes had squeezed shut, and his head had fallen back between his shoulder blades. Two large wings littered with scars appeared behind his back as he began to growl in pleasure. They flared wide in dominance as you screamed for him, falling off the edge quickly for a second time.

"Gods, yes!" Your back arched off the bed as you gripped the satin sheets in your hands. "Fucking use me, Rhys. Feels so good, baby. So fucking good."

He growled again, moaning your name in response. "Almost there," he ground out. "Tell me where, darling."

"Inside me," the answer was so desperate. You were so close to that third orgasm. "Need you to fill me. Been so long."

Too damn long, Rhys said to himself mentally. He felt you begin pulsing again, a whine of his name leaving your throat, and it ripped him over the edge. The windows and house shook as he roared, spilling so deeply into you that you would leak his seed for weeks.

Rhys collapsed into you, chest heaving in time with yours as he buried into your breasts. "I-" He began, blinking as he realized what he had done, the line he potentially crossed. "I do not know what came over me."

You hushed him, bringing his lips to yours with a smile. "You just needed some control, Rhys. It's okay. I'm always happy to oblige my High Lord."

He rolled off of you, taking your nightgown with him, and began pulling you under the covers, snuggling deep into you. "Let's sleep, y/n."

"Of course," you reached up, kissing him deeply again. "Just don't be surprised when I wake you up with my lips wrapped around you."

Rhysand's eyes snapped open, looking down at you. "You beautiful wicked little creature. There are no words for how deeply I love that dirty mind of yours."He leaned down to kiss you.

"I love you too, my handsome, intelligent, and powerful mate. Goodnight, Rhysand."

"Goodnight, y/n Darling. I'll be looking for you in my dreams."

General tag list:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho

@mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered

Rhys taglist:

@tothestarsandwhateverend @cheshire-salvatore-mikaelson @avajustreads

Valentines Day Taglist:

@sfhsgrad-blog @amara-moonlight @eternallyelvish @novaksangel @teenageeggscissorslawyer @thisblogisaboutabook @amygdtjhddzvb

@justasillylittlegoofyguy @avajustreads

@littlestw01f @azriels-shadowsinger

#acotar #acotar x reader #rhys acotar #rhys x y/n #rhys x you #rhys x reader #rhysand fic #rhysand acotar #rhysand x reader #rhysand x y/n #rhysand x you #readychilledwine valentines day bingo

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thewulf · 10 months

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Good News Part 2 || Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Summary: Original Request - So i saw somewhere where a woman got into trouble for "destruction of government property" but it's just her giving her military husband hickies, and i think this would be so hilarious with Jake Seresin.

A/N: Whew! Bless a lazy weekend, I've been able to crank these out. Please enjoy this tooth rotting fluff!

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Y/N

Word Count: 3.9k +

Part 1

“You’re seriously going to do it?” Bradley’s voice dropped an octave as he asked his roommate on board the carrier a very serious question. They were few and far between, but he had to know. Jake hadn’t shut the hell up about you for the last six months. Bradley knew the two of you were serious when you moved across the country for him a year ago. He was transferred to Virginia, and you didn’t want to let him go, couldn’t let him go. So, you moved with him. Somehow you had Jake whipped beyond anything Bradley could’ve ever of dreamed from the man.

Jake smiled looking at the picture of the ring his dad had sent him on his phone. They were finally back in United States waters, and he had reception for the first time in weeks.

He had ordered you engagement ring before he left and had his dad pick it up once it was ready. He only knew one thing, he wanted to marry the hell out of you. He was only reassured when he saw that beautiful face turn into a gigantic smile once you spotted him coming off the carrier. God, he loved you more than life itself.

“Tonight.” Jake nodded at his enemy turned good friend. After the dagger squad had dissolved they were both shipped off to Virginia while the rest of the squad was sent throughout the country. They made a truce in hopes of embarrassing everybody else out here. They were smart in doing so. Quickly, they became fast friends after their tumultuous beginning. But as Maverick said, near death brings everybody a bit closer.

“Tonight?” Bradley sat up from the bed he was lounging on surprise laced in his voice, “You didn’t mention that when you said you were going to propose a few weeks ago.” His eyes were nearly bugging from his head. Hell, he knew they were nearing their mid 30’s and it wasn’t weird to get married… it just surprised him. Especially coming from Jake. The one who used to flirt with anything that moved. But that was years ago. Years before you came around, “You sure?” Bradley asked wanting to make sure it was his best decision.

Jake nodded with a bright smile, “Never been so damn sure of anything in my life Rooster.” He clapped his friends back as he threw the bookbag over his shoulder, “Now, let’s get off this carrier.”

Bradley smile and nodded, “Don’t have to tell me twice.” He was proud of his friend for taking that next step. It was never easy. But you made it so for him.

The two of them chatted and waited and chatted some more. They’d been docked for what felt like hours. It always took forever to disembark. No matter how well they prepped it always took what felt like decades to finally make it off. Everybody was terribly anxious to see their loved ones.

Finally, finally they were dismissed, and he was able to hold you. It was everything he needed and more. You were there. He was here. It was home. He was healed.

You would have sat in his lap on the ride back to your shared home had his parents not been driving in the front seat. So, you settled on snuggling up to him in the middle seat leaning your head on his shoulder. His parents were chatting away with their son as he mindlessly ran his fingers through your wavy hair. You were listening but you weren’t actually listening to the conversation. You were listening to his every heartbeat. His every breath. Smelling his Old Spice body wash and your favorite Tom Ford cologne that accented him perfectly. You were lost in taking him in. He was here. Finally, home. Finally.

His father let him know where he hid the ring in the house when he got some alone time with his son. His parents were throwing a welcome home party at your place, you’d always hosted. Jake just wanted to be home and his parents always insisted. Family was everything for them. The entirety of the Seresin clan flew out to Virginia Beach to welcome him home. Even some of your family made it over to welcome him back. As tired as he always was he was so grateful for the love his family gave him. He knew it was rare, so he never dreamed of pushing the love away. He was ever so thankful that you always understood and welcomed everybody with open arms. You always made them a priority.

Jake had decided to wait to ask you to marry him. Wait until everybody left for the night. Even until his parents left. He just wanted it to be you and him. He’d always dreamed of doing something big and grand, that was his style. But that wasn’t your style at all. A grand gesture would mortify you. You wanted something simple. He’d do anything for you. A simple gesture it was.

It was harder than he imagined waiting to propose to you. You didn’t seem to have a clue it was coming even though he pretty much told you earlier with the ‘even bigger news’ incoming. As smart and observant as you were this was something he absolutely adored about you. You’d miss the simplest things in front of you. Or you’d take something and overanalyze it into oblivion until it didn’t even make sense anymore. But he loved it. He loved the little blush that danced across your cheeks when the realization hit you. He loved the expressions your face always went through. Through and through, he loved you. There was nothing he had ever been so sure of. You. You were his end game.

He watched as you talked with almost every family member of his. How effortlessly you were able to hold a conversation when you needed to. He watched as all his brothers and sisters kids clung to you throughout the night. How easily you were able to play with them and shoo them off when needed. He was damn sure his heart nearly melted every time you made eye contact with him. You’d always look away quickly knowing you got caught. But he got caught as well and he didn’t give a damn. He loved watching you. Seeing you.

“Hey handsome,” You squeezed Jake’s side later on in the night after the cookout, “How are you holding up?”

He leaned into your touch. Shameless really. All he wanted to do is hold you. Touch you. Breathe you in. But his family made that really fucking hard to do that. He tried not to complain about it. He loved them dearly. They were always sure to try. How lucky was he? An incredible family and an even better person standing beside him.

“I’m just a bit tired.” He admitted to you. He never lied to you. Nor did you to him. Without much thought you gently ran your hands through his sculpted hair. You knew he didn’t care that you were messing up his hairstyle. Not when it was you. You felt the sigh escape his lips as his eyes fluttered closed for a moment. He allowed himself to really be in the moment with you.

“I’m sorry honey.” You cooed in his ear. If you could you’d shoo them all away. But you knew better. They’d come all in from across the country for him. Both of you knew it was just another few hours and then you’d get your alone time. Your hour of bliss before the sleep inevitably took over.

His eyes opened seeing your soft eyes giving him a concerned look, “It’s alright Y/N.” He kissed your lips quicky to reassure you, “Just a few more hours then you’re all mine.” He whispered into your ear nibbling at its base just enough to tease you. He already had you squirming in his arms.

You would’ve whispered something obscene had his own mother not called out to you then, “Y/N! Dear! Do you mind helping me serve the desserts?” She asked in her thicker than molasses southern accent with a big white toothy grin on her face. You’d never dreamed of saying no to her.

You grinned, “Of course Alice, I’ll be right there.” You waved to her before turning to your boyfriend.

“Let me go help your momma.” You kissed his cheek before turning. He caught your arm before you could get too far away from him.

“Thank you. It means a lot to her.” He pulled you in for quick kiss on the forehead, “Which means a whole lot to me.”

“You know I like helping her.” You smiled feeling all the love from him in that moment. You felt so damn lucky that he was yours. All yours. Little did you know he was going to make that permanent in just a few hours. Oh, how he wished time would just skip forward.

“Thank you.” He grinned running a gentle hand down your arm. He needed to touch you. To feel you. Six months was far too long without his favorite person. His rock. The one he trusted the most. The one he needed the most. You.

“Course honey.” Your smile couldn’t fall. It felt surreal that he was actually home. You’d willed this day to be here ever since he stepped onto the carrier six months ago. Finally.

“I love you.” He kissed you one more before dropping your arm.

“Love ya handsome.” You waved before wandering off into the kitchen. Jake watched as your hair bounced and your dress swayed side to side. He was so damn happy he found you.

“We’ll pick you both up at eleven tomorrow for brunch with the family?” Alice asked as you and Jake walked his parents to the door. Your parents hadn’t made it much past ten before they left. Jake’s managed to be the last ones to stay. She insisted on helping you clean up. You yawned feeling the time hit you. It was nearing one in the morning. Far past your usual bedtime. Jake must’ve been a damn zombie by now. He normally slept for days after getting off a deployment.

“Sounds good mom. We’ll be ready.” He kissed her on the cheek. After he shook his dads hand. You didn’t catch the wink he tossed his son. He knew what Jake was planning. You were still as clueless as ever standing behind him admiring the cute little family interact.

“Sleep well Y/N.”

“You too Alice, Dave.” You couldn’t stop the second yawn that overcame you as you waved to them. Jake shut the door behind them quickly. Not waiting a second before turning towards you.

A devilish smile took over his features, “Finally.” He grinned before making a bee line towards you and scooping you up into his arms, “I missed you my love.”

“Jake.” You giggled in his arms. You weren’t complaining but this was new. He was always touchy, but this was different. It was needy. You loved it. He was all yours. Yours and yours only, “What’s gotten into you honey.” You looked up to him breath catching in your throat as you caught his eye. He was giving you that look. The one that told you everything. He was bearing his soul to you.

He shrugged after shifting his gaze to the unassuming box he left on the counter. The one that housed your ring. The one he got custom made with his grandma’s and your grandma’s diamond rings. Both of your mothers went with him to help him out. He knew you were going to love it, but damn was he suddenly nervous. He knew he hadn’t a thing to worry about. You were going to yes. He couldn’t help but to be nervous though. This was it. This was him committing to you. To taking those next steps. He wanted those things with you. To buy a home and make it yours together. To have children that look like the both of you. To raise them to be even better versions of both of you. To do this life together. He was nervous. But damn was he ready.

“I missed you. I missed you so much. I missed that beautiful face. That smart ass mouth. This gentle soul. I love you my darlin’.” He leaned down and captured your lips in a kiss. A much gentler and more relaxed one. So much slower and thoughtful. One that showed you just how much he loved you. His heart and soul were yours for the taking.

“I love you too.” You answered him when he broke the longing kiss. He walked you over to the kitchen island sitting you down on the barstool. Your eyes were glazed over with the love that shone out of you. Even then you still hadn’t a clue. This was one of the many reasons you had come to love him so deeply.

He brushed a stray hair out of your face, “Anybody ever told you how pretty you are? Most beautiful woman in the world?” That compliment and the look he was giving you could make any woman swoon. You’d be amiss if you didn’t blush violently at that.

“You have. All the time.” It came out as a whisper. He had the ability to do that to you. Make you nervous beyond belief. Make you feel like the most special human in the world. He makes sure to treat you as his world and so much more.

His grin widened as his eyes scanned your face. Beautiful. So utterly beautiful. He found you ethereal even. Without a flaw. See, the two of you hardly even fought. If you did it was because somebody was tired or failed to communicate. Both of you learned to worth through issues with words. Something you’d never found in a partner before him. He tried. And succeeded. And then blew your expectations out of the water. People prayed for a love like yours. God were you thankful.

“It’s true sweetheart.” He pulled the box over without you knowing. Still clueless as ever. His favorite human. He palmed the small ring box underneath snaking it behind his back. His mouth began to dry up as he realized what he was actually doing. God he wanted you more than ever. His girl.

Your cheeks warmed even more if they possibly could, “You’re too sweet on me Mr. Seresin.”

He shook his head, “I’d disagree with you sweetheart.” He kissed your cheek as he took a step in closer, “I’d argue that I’m not sweet enough. Being away for so long was awful. It made me realize how much you really truly meant and mean to me. You’re everything. It’s that simple. You’re my reason to get up. You my love. My dear. My sweets. My sweetheart. My everything.” He kissed your other cheek taking a second to get the next line straight.

It felt like your heart was going to drop out of your ass. He was always so sweet to you, but this was something more. Could he possibly be doing what you’d dreamed of for far too long? You quickly shook that thought out of your head as he continued. Leaving you utterly speechless.

“I love you so much sweetheart. And I know I’m ready to take the next step with you. I want to do this life with you. Build a home with you. Start a family with you.” He kissed your forehead now.

Oh. Shit. Maybe he really was? You slid forward in the barstool now fully awake. God you’d probably pass out he if really was proposing, “You do?” Your smile about made him pass out. The most genuine look. The happiest he’s probably ever seen you. And he did that. He made you smile like that.

“I do, if that’s what you want?” He paused waiting for some confirmation.

You took that as a chance to kiss him on the lips. He was inevitably going to move there next. You felt him smile into the kiss wrapping his arms around you lightly, “You’re my best girl. My favorite human. The best thing that’s ever happened to me Y/N. Will you marry me?” He asked taking a slight step back and kneeling down holding the most beautiful right in his hand.

You could only nod due to your complete lack of being able to form any words. You pulled him up for another long kiss trying to think of anything to say, something.

“One thousand times yes.” You whispered to him once you pulled away, only because you needed oxygen.

He pulled you so you were standing on his toes. Holding you tightly to his chest knowing you were most likely weak at the knees, “Mrs. Seresin has a nice ring to it.” He gleamed cupping your chin in one hand. Gently this time he pressed his lips to yours while sliding the ring on your finger with his other hand.

Looking down at the ring you were sure your cheeks were about to rip from the smile that came across your face, “Y/N Seresin.” You giggled admiring the most stunning engagement ring. He’d done more than you could’ve ever dreamed. Your man. Your forever man now.

He sucked in a breath admiring you, “That’s the sexiest damn thing I’ve ever heard you say.”

You giggled hugging him close to you, “I love you so much Jake.”

He hugged you back, never wanting to let you go, “You have no idea darlin’. I love you too.”

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