#this happens several times a week and it's concerning

[queenshelby]

The Law Student (Rewritten)

Part Six: Green Genes

Pairing: Cillian Murphy (20) & Reader (30)

Note: This plays in 1996, just before Cillian drops out of law school.

Several days had passed until Thursday finally came around and, to you, it seemed as though, for the past few days, Cillian tried to make a point to be seen by you with Siobhan.  It felt as if each time you set foot in the school building, there they were - sitting in the same corner spot, hands intertwined on top of the table. He was always sending mixed signals in class, sneaking glances at you as if bursting with secrets – secret encounters, conversations, stolen kisses; whereas, afterwards, he was always quick to walk by Siobhan's side.

Watching him kiss her goodbye and whisper sweet nothings into her ear fueled your innate jealousy – fueling a burning sensation in your chest, an anger that pricked at the back of your neck.

The sensations, admittedly, were concerning – confusing even, because this wasn't the type of feeling you expected to experience. You felt disgusted at the thought of being so attached to, possessive of someone who, only a week ago, knew little more than your first name.

Yet here you were – fixated on these particular glimpses of the boy, each slightly more intimate than the last and, by the time he entered the lecture room for his tutoring session, you were almost vibrating with apprehension and the desperate need to sort through your tangled emotions.

Silence enveloped the room as you awaited the arrival of your student, and each second stretched into an eternity, further fraying your nerves. When you finally heard light footsteps coming from the hall outside, you glanced up to meet a pair of deep-blue eyes that pierced right through you, paralyzing your breath within your lungs.

"Hey,"  Cillian murmured, resting his knapsack onto his chair and directing an intense gaze toward you; a gaze that seemed to ignite a fire in the pit of your stomach.

"You are late ," you replied, your voice thicker than intended, and glanced back at your notes, attempting to ignore the flush spreading across your cheeks and the rapid beating of your own heart.

"Sorry, I lost track of time," Cillian's husky voice reverberated through the almost-empty room, and you couldn't help but notice how flushed his forehead remained.

"It's fine ," you sighed and averted your gaze, your thoughts ensnared between the apparent sexual tension between you and the of frustration building up within you. This boy was your student, and you were his professor, yet the boundary between teacher and pupil had grown thin.

As you glanced at Cillian, your eyes met his, and the sheer intensity in them evoked something within you-an urge to explore their depths until quenched, to satisfy your hunger.

"Now tell me, did you do the prescribed reading for the cases I have given you?" you asked coolly, trying to mask your tumultuous feelings. Cillian hesitated, shuffling his documents awkwardly.

"Well, most of it," he confessed, averting his gaze. "There was just so much material, and I had some assignments to prioritize," he added defensively.

Your irritation grew. Not only could you not fathom the idea of succumbing to this boy's sweet temptation, but you also resented his most recent lackadaisical attitude towards your class.

"You had assignments to prioritize?" you heard yourself repeat, incredulous. "Cillian, if I didn't know any better, I would assume that you are not taking this course seriously anymore after what happened between us. You haven't engaged in class all week and now-, " you began to say just as Cillian interrupted you. 

Cillian looked up, startled. "No, I am taking it seriously Y/N," he assured you, inadvertently calling you by his first name. "It's just that-well-there's a lot going on right now. Personal stuff, you know."

You couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. "You mean you have a girlfriend now, so your studies are less important?" you asked, unable to fully conceal the jealousy in your voice and this was something Cillian picked up on right away.

"Are you jealous?" he asked, his eyes gleaming with curiosity.

The words hung in the air, and you felt your face grow hot. "Of course not," you lied, trying to remain calm and collected. "I'm just, you know, never mind," you stammered, and Cillian looked at you skeptically, as if he could sense the lie behind your words. 

"So you are not jealous of me dating Siobhan?" he questioned you further, biting his lower lip playfully. His tone was flirtatious, baiting you towards losing your composure and giving away your true feelings.

However, your years of experience as a lawyer had taught you how to navigate delicate situations without losing your edge. Therefore, you responded to Cillian calmly, remaining composed.

"No Cillian, I am not jealous of your girlfriend. I am just concerned that your personal affairs will compromise your academic performance," you said plainly, avoiding his gaze.

He chuckled quietly, seemingly amused by your response. "Alright , if you say so." His voice carried an undertone of skepticism, and the way he looked at you made it clear that he didn't quite believe you.

Cillian let the topic drop, and the rest of the tutoring session went smoothly, with the two of you discussing legal concepts and case studies. Yet, even as you delved into complex intellectual discussions, you couldn't help but feel a persistent burn of jealousy in the back of your mind.

You pushed that pang of jealousy aside once more , focusing on the topic at hand.

Finally, the tutoring session ended, and Cillian packed up his belongings, offering a small, cryptic smile as he left the room.

That smirk ignited a spark in your mind, causing you to question his motives and intentions. But Cillian had left already, and you had no choice but to bury your thoughts for the time being.

***

The following day, after work, you were invited to meet up with a gathering of colleagues for drinks - the type of event you generally avoided. You disliked the cliquish environment and superficial banter. Still, tonight you found yourself agreeing to join them. Perhaps, you subconsciously sought some form of distraction; which always seemed in short supply recently.

The topics discussed over drinks however were far from interesting for you. Thus, after having listened to their recounts of court victories, academia bragging and tedious office gossip, you decided that it was best to step outside and call it a night.

The cold abruptly slammed against your skin, but the crisp air felt invigorating as you pulled out your Nokia to call a taxi home just as, out of the blue, you received a text message from your best friend Emma who was looking to catch up later that evening.

"Two for one drinks at Soho. Live Music. 9pm." was all Emma's message read, and although the idea of more socializing sounded exhausting, you also knew that a couple of drinks with your best friend might be exactly what you needed to take your mind off things.

You sent a quick reply and made your way to the small little bar in Cork where, much to your surprise, there was quite a crowd of young students.

"What is going on here?" you asked Emma who stood there, by the door, already nursing a drink.

"Some band's last gig, I think. Although, from what I have heard, they haven't played together for months,"  Emma shrugged her shoulders, gesturing towards the stage where a group of young musicians were setting up their equipment.

You glanced at them curiously and, sure enough, you spotted a familiar face on stage.

"Oh Jesus," you muttered under your breath, recognizing one of the guitarists and vocalists as none other than Cillian, his eyes closed tightly in concentration as he tuned his guitar.

Emma cast you a puzzled glance, suspicion forming in the furrow of her brow. "Do you know them?" she asked, and you hesitated, struggling with how to explain your connection to Cillian without divulging the drama that had unfurled between you two.

"Um, sort of. One of them is a student of mine," you finally settled on, which was technically true.

"Which one?" Emma's interest was piqued, and she looked over towards the stage with a mixture of curiosity and excitement.

"The one on the guitar, wearing a black t-shirt. His name is Cillian," you answered, feeling a bit self-conscious as you said his name out loud. 

"He's quite a good-looking kid,"  Emma remarked and you cringed at the fact that your best friend had just referred to the man you slept with as if he was a child.

Before you could protest however, the band began to play, and Cillian's voice rang out, strong and melodic. You couldn't help but watch him, his movements fluid and graceful as he strummed the guitar, his lips curving into a soft smile as he sang.

He seemed to enjoy the stage and had a presence there which not many people possessed. 

"He sure is talented," you murmured to yourself , impressed by his abilities and, luckily for you, Emma did not hear you above the music this time.

The sound was electric, and the crowd moved closer to the stage as Cillian and his band continued playing. Their energy was captivating, filling the room with an intoxicating mix of anticipation and excitement. The night grew young, and the alcohol coursed through your veins, making it harder to resist the sway of his voice, your body moving instinctively along with the rhythm which is when you and Emma made some rather drunk acquaintances.

Emma, in her natural charismatic state, struck up a conversation with two young men – both of whom appeared quite taken with her charms, and as you observed them interact, you found yourself unable to help but feel ever-so slightly pleased by the notion. Not because you despised Emma nor her company, but rather because it provided you with a welcome reprieve from the uncomfortable thoughts and feelings that had been consuming you for the past few days.

One of the men, named Jason, started talking to you, complimenting you. He was tall, blonde and handsome, and under normal circumstances, you would find him attractive. But somehow, your mind kept wandering back to Cillian on stage, his instrument in his hands, and the way the music flowed from him as if it was an extension of himself.

Jason noticed your distracted behavior and leaned in, whispering suggestive comments in your ear. The alcohol in your system made you feel bold, and you entertained the idea of going home with him, using it as a way to distract yourself from Cillian. But you also knew to be better than that. This was not your style and, much to your dislike and discomfort, when the music came to an end, the blonde stranger made a move on you.

He leaned in, invading your personal space and wrapping an arm around your waist in a possessive manner, attempting to plant a kiss on your lips. However, you quickly pushed him away, exclaiming, "No, thank you," as you gathered your bearings, removing the stranger's arm from your waist.

Your actions caught the attention of several patrons, but the stranger seemed unfazed, continuing to proposition you. 

"She said no, dude," Emma intervened firmly, placing a hand on the man's chest and, even though the admirer took Emma's message as a warning, he still refused to relent.

"Oh come on , don't be like that," he persisted, his words slurring together as he continued to advance towards you, expecting a different answer from you this time.

"Listen, I am really not interested , okay? So just please leave me alone." Your voice was firm and clear, despite the hint of irritation seeping through, and you couldn't help but notice Cillian observing the scene from the stage, concern etched onto his face.

He had spotted you just moments earlier when you drew some unwanted attention towards you, arguing with the stranger and it was now that, for the stranger,  in rejection stung and, in an attempt to regain control, the man grabbed your arm, pulling you in close. "Come on. Just give me a chance," he hissed, leering down at you.

But before he could pull you any closer, a sudden flurry of movement caught everyone's attention: Cillian, having jumped off the stage, strode purposefully towards you with a determined look on his face.

In one swift motion, he pried the stranger's hand off of you, pushing him roughly away. "Back off, man!" Cillian snarled, protectively placing himself between you and the aggressor.  "She doesn't want you to touch her!" he told the much older man  , whose eyes widened in shock as he looked at Cillian with disbelief.

"Who the hell are you to tell me what she wants?" the man sneered, puffing his chest out as if he was trying to assert his dominance over Cillian.

Cillian's gaze did not waver, and he held his ground, standing protectively in front of me. "That's none of your business,"  he retorted, his voice low and firm. "Just leave her alone and find someone else to bother."

The stranger's face contorted in anger, and he took a threatening step forward and, without warning, leashed out at Cillian with his fist, hitting his face.

"Oh my god!" you and Emma gasped at the same time, but Cillian didn't budge. Instead, he clenched his jaw and threw a punch back, hitting the stranger's nose. 

"Stop it," you yelled, trying to pull the stranger away from Cillian as the two continued to tussle, drawing the attention of everyone in the bar as they watched the scene unfold before them. Emma, trying to act as a voice of reason, pleaded with the stranger as well, to which he just thrown a dismissive glower and puffed up his chest in defiance.

Cillian's nose was bleeding and the stranger's jaw was turning blue already as, finally, the security guard intervened .

"Hey! Hey! That's enough!" The bouncer loudly shouted, stepping between the two men, and separating them. "Break it up, now! BOTH of you, outta here!"

With the fight broken up, Cillian retreated to your side, his eyes locked on yours, but you couldn't hold his gaze for long. The adrenaline was wearing off, and embarrassment flooding through you, having caused such a scene.

"God, I am so sorry," Cillian apologized, concern evident in his voice.

"Did he hurt you? Are you alright?" he gently reached out to touch your cheek, and you flinched at his touch, a silent reminder of the events that just transpired.

"I'm fine, Cillian," you assured him while Emma handed you a pile of napkins. "But you are not. Your nose is bleeding," you pointed out, concern lacing your voice as you stared at the blood trickling down his face.

"Oh, that's nothing new," he waved off your concerns, trying to downplay the severity of his injury. "It's been broken a couple of times before," he winked, revealing the slight grin, and you couldn't help but stare at cheerful expression of a person who had just been engaged in a physical altercation, and yet stood there, as charming as ever.

"Come on, let me clean this up for you," you told him firmly, leading him to the bathroom, despite the lingering embarrassment trickling from your every pore and, despite all that had transpired, Emma couldn't help but chuckle.  

The bar's washroom was tiny, hidden late at night like this, most booths were occupied - users smoking in secrecy or friends freshening up after a drink or even two. It smelled of sweat and cheap perfume, and the harsh light cast shadows across the grimy mirrors.

But despite its poor condition, the sink was thankfully empty as you wet a handful of paper towels, pressing them against Cillian's wound.

"We are in the girls' toilet Y/N," Cillian stated as his blue eyes smiled at you.

This instructive observation did very little to pacify the raging tempest that subsumed your senses as you looked back at him. "No shit, Sherlock," you retorted sarcastically, rolling your eyes. "Now hold still," you  ordered, pressing the makeshift compress gently against the bridge of his nose.

Cillian complied, scrutinizing you closely beneath the dim light of the bathroom's fixture as you attended to his wound. Despite the tense situation, a certain warmth spread throughout your core, reciprocated on his end as his gaze deepened and softened.

"You shouldn't have intervened," you found yourself whispering to your student, clinching the napkins more rigorously over his injury lest the emotion stuck in your throat escaped audibly.

Dismissing your words, Cillian gestured carelessly with his free hand as he reassured you, "But I couldn't just stand there and do nothing," he said as regret clouded his features, and the gravity of the consequences of his impulse weighed upon his conscience.

"Well, thank you,"  you finally offered him, grudgingly, as you finished tending to his injury. The sincerity in his deep blue eyes forced down your prim hostility. "I really am grateful for what you did." However, you still struggled with the irrational, nagging feeling of embarrassment that remained lodged in your throat, gripping you and refusing to let go, unwilling to exhale the frustrations which consistently surfaces whenever you were near Cillian.

The atmosphere inside the small, dimly lit bathroom had undoubtedly changed and, if it wasn't for Cillian's brother Paddy barging in unexpectedly to check in on the two of you, you may have gotten sidetracked by the young man that insisted on ignoring the unspoken boundaries between professors and students.

"Come on Cills. Time to go. The bouncer wants you out of here," Paddy said, looking between Cillian and you. There was a stern expression on his face, and his glare led you to believe that any argument from either Cillian or you would go ignored.

A bit reluctantly, you both nodded your agreement before, with careful treads, you made your way back towards your friends - Emma appearing absolutely mesmerized.

"Holy crap. I can't believe what just happened," Emma exclaimed, eyes wide with astonishment and, as she remained quiet, which was something that Emma rarely did, you finally allowed the tension to seep from your body, feeling your posture start to relax, and the weight of the past few hours lifting.

"Is he okay?" she eventually asked while Cillian and Paddy sneaked out, waving at you contently. 

"Yes, I don't think his nose is broken," you told her and she laughed a little, that surprising tinkling sound that came unexpectedly.

"What a crazy night. But honestly, I'm glad I got to witness it," she concluded and her line of sight moved back to Cillian who just left. She then raised her brows at you, obviously intrigued by your young and mysterious protector.

"He seems to really care about you, Y/N. And he probably has a little crush on you too," she murmured thoughtfully, watching him disappear into the crowd.

"Don't be silly, Em. He is just a student. Nothing more , nothing less," you replied dismissively, taking a large sip of your drink.

Despite your words, Emma shot you a knowing look, her eyes gleaming with mischief and suspicion. "Sure, if you say so," she said with a wink.

"Anyways, let's get going. I think we've had enough excitement for one night," you suggested, eager to end the conversation and avoid further speculation about your relationship with Cillian.

***

Meanwhile, as Paddy drove him and his brother home, Paddy too ought to address the elephant in the room.  "So, you wanna tell me what's going on between you and that woman at the pub?" Paddy asked, peering at Cillian from the driver's seat.

Cillian sighed deeply, running his fingers through his unruly locks. His clenched fists squeezed the denim of his jeans, drawing his knuckles white. "I have no frigging clue what you are talking about, Pad," he admitted truthfully. "She's my law school professor, and that's it."

However, as Cillian defended himself, Paddy only raised an eyebrow at his older brother, doubting the legitimacy of his claims.

Paddy turned onto their street, pulling the car up to their modest home and switching off the engines while continuing their conversation. "Cills, you and I both know that's never 'it' with you. Every woman you show interest in turns into a complicated fucking mess and you are clearly interested in her. So, I'll ask again. What's going on with you and this particular woman?" Paddy questioned seriously.

Cillian remained silent for a few moments, staring out the window into the darkness beyond. He knew his brother was right, as much as he despised admitting it. 

"I don't know, Pad," Cillian finally replied, turning his gaze back to his brother. "We kinda hooked up once and things just got complicated now," he trailed off, leaving the implication hanging heavy in the air.

Paddy raised his eyebrows, surprised by the revelation. "Wow, okay," he said, pausing for a moment to let the news settle. "You actually slept with your fucking teacher?" Paddy finally burst out, incredulously. "I mean, she is super hot, but Jesus man. You do realize that's a whole piss pot of trouble, right?"

Cillian frowned. "Of course, I know that, Pad," he replied, sinking lower in his seat. "But it was the best sex I've ever had and I really fucking like her, you know ? I can't help it."

Paddy shook his head, letting out a low whistle. "Fuck bro , I don't even know what to say to that," he admitted, rubbing his forehead with the back of his hand. "Look, I'm gonna level with you here, Cills. I know you've been struggling lately, and I think you need to focus on your future. Getting involved with your teacher isn't going to help with that."

Cillian sighed heavily, leaning back in his seat. "I know, I know," he agreed. "But it's not that simple, Pad. I don't even want to be at fucking law school. I hate it and she just makes it a little more interesting," Cillian admitted to his brother , feeling a stab of guilt at the thought of disappointing his family.

Tags:

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#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy x y/n

[bookwyrminspiration]

Omg I so wanna draw the lying down one too but I've only just started doing different poses (I draw two characters hugging today!!) but I will try!!

Could I have a quick description of the room and each of their wings again? (I know that Sophie is a void bee, Fitz is a rainbow bird I think, and Keefe has wings that change shades depending on his mood, but I want something kore concrete)

(2/3) Wait i don't remember what they were wearing dammit-

I've started the sketch btw, imma just give them placeholder clothes until I find the chapter the scene is in

(3/3) Ok nevermind this is looking horrible, her body is malformed. I'll try again tomorrow

_________________

Heathen you sent me like four asks all at once I hope you don't mind me combining them as they were all related to the same thing. Also it's super sweet of you to want to draw them but please don't feel any pressure to! Me reblogging that post was more about art I'd like of the au in general, not that anyone else needs to draw it

also congrats on drawing two characters hugging!! characters interacting with each other can be so annoying to draw, so kudos to you! also I have seen your submission with the Maui art I just haven't gotten to it yet dw <33

as for the descriptions, give me a moment I also don't remember what chapter it was in. okay after checking the cuddling is in chapter ten, The Reconnections. They're in Fitz's living room which has a wooden floor and it's scattered full of papers and things like that--he was very distraught and made a mess. as for the aesthetic of the place, think something quaint and cottagecore, as this used to be a gnome's home. so wood and plants and rugs and things like that, though there's no strict description. I do have a vague idea of the layout in my head, but it's not solid enough to really help beyond what I've already said

you were close with the wings though!! I actually have reference drawings for the three of them linked in the masterpost, but I'll gie you the link right here and here as well. I haven't done drawings of all the wings yet, but I've got the three of them. Sophie's a void bee, Fitz is a golden eagle (unfortunately not rainbow), and Keefe's are similar to a creature unique to the au. Essentially think regular feathered wings but they shift between various shades of black to greys to whites based on how he's feeling, so they're probably pretty light in this scene because he's chilling with his friends. Perhaps a tinge of grey on the ends because he can feel Fitz's distress, but otherwise light.

But the clothing descriptions aren't in that chapter so I'm going to check to see if I actually described them earlier, because there's a good chance I didn't.

Sophie has bandages on her arms and one of her shoulders...I think the left one but don't quote me on that. Otherwise I don't think I described any of what they were wearing, so you can dress them how you'd like!! I rarely bother with mentioning clothing as it's usually an unimportant detail, so unless it has relevance--like the red clothing in the most recent chapter, or the cloaks to cover wings--then you're free to make it up however you'd like!!

if you do end up drawing it, I hope it goes well and i will love it no matter how malformed she is, as it's so sweet of you to put the time in to make something for the au. also today is the wings au's birthday!! may 9th!! so it has officially been out and in the world for an entire year as of today <33

#edit: added the links because I forgot to the first time whoops-- #shattered upside down #kotlc wings au #quil's queries #heathen nonsie #long post #seriously this is very kind of you but please don't feel like you have to!! #also i was playing viddy games last night and kept getting notifications of asks from you and was concerned /lh #like oh no did something happen should I be paying attention to this/ #*? #but also. game #so hopefully this information helps!! #i actually often forget what they're wearing and if I ever mentioned it #because a single day can last several chapters. so weeks can go by since I mention what she wore and I forget

[rafesmuse]

after dark — r.c.

pairing: ghostface!rafe cameron x fem!reader

warnings: smut 18+, unprotected sex, dubcon, violence, blood, murder, knife play, mask kink, hair pulling, spanking, cursing, toxic, controlling, manipulative and possessive behaviour, oral sex (m. receiving), fingering, creampie, degradation, face slapping, dacryphilia, breeding kink

word count: 4.5k

summary: the bloodlust killer that has been terrorising the town could be closer to you than you might think.

moodboard // nav. // m.list // taglist

“Rafe?” you called out to your boyfriend who was attentively watching the TV from beside you on the couch, a deep sense of unease and concern in your voice. “Yeah, baby?” he replied, his eyes still glued to the screen as his warm hand moved to your thigh, giving it a squeeze to let you know that he was listening. “I’m… I’m scared” you murmured with your brows knitted, referring to the news report about a killer being on the loose, terrorising the entire town for weeks now. They played footage taken from a Ring doorbell camera that showed him wearing a black and white mask, identical to the one from the Scream movies to hide his identity, along with a full black outfit.

So far, there has been an estimated five victims, all of them male. Men between the ages of nineteen and twenty-six who are university students were the killer's primary target, it seemed. You were familiar with all of them— you had worked on group projects with a number of these people and even tutored two of them, helping them with subjects that you excelled at to earn some extra cash. To sum up, you saw all of the murdered male students regularly. Fear prickled over your skin as the reporter revealed more shocking details about the murders.

Rafe turned to face you, an empathetic smile swept across his handsome face as he moved closer to you, the palm of his warm hand resting on your cheek as he looked at you with his sparkling blue eyes. “Don’t be scared baby. You know I’ll take care of you, alright? I won’t ever let anything happen to my sweet girl” You fidgeted with your hands and looked down, letting his words sink in. Rafe always took care of you, ensuring that you were happy and healthy— he’d do anything for you. For the first time ever, though, you were unsure if Rafe could truly protect you from a bloodlust killer who has murdered men even bigger, stronger and more athletic than Rafe.

He looked off into the distance, thinking deeply as he released a hesitating breath, “Look, why don’t you stay with me here? Hmm? It’s too dangerous out there for a pretty girl like you. You’ll be safe here, I promise” you met his eyes again and nodded, feeling relieved that you can be with him every minute of the day.

Every minute of the day, that is, unless you were in class, because school life didn’t pause. Why it didn’t was a mystery to you, but the police stated that they had everything under control, which you found hard to believe. It made you feel anxious to be distanced from Rafe during those times. You not only feared for yourself, but for him as well. It became impossible to concentrate in class. Knowing that anyone could become the next victim sent your mind into overdrive. No one was safe.

You took your phone out of your pocket and opened iMessage, scrolling through your conversations before tapping your and Rafe’s. You occasionally glanced up quickly to make sure the teacher wasn't watching you before typing a message.

You: I miss you so much :( Are you okay?

Rafe 💞: Miss you more, my pretty girl. I’m alright, just hanging out with Top.  

His words still made you blush, your cheeks heating up as a tiny smile formed on your face before you quickly looked up, checking if anyone saw you texting. The teacher is lost in her own world, going over theories while you see several other students on their phones as well, evidently bored by the contents of the class. You returned your focus to your phone and started typing a new message.

You: Be careful, okay? I’m scared…

Rafe 💞: Baby, I won’t let anything happen to you, got it? You know I have your location on my phone. I will keep an eye on you. Buy yourself some pretty lingerie and I will help you relax when you get home ;)

Rafe Cameron transferred $500 to your bank account.

Your eyes grew wide before you let out a chuckle at how easily he gives you money when you don’t even need it. You hastily typed a ‘thank you’ message and slipped your phone back into your pocket with a giddy smile on your face before the teacher could notice you.

When class finally ended for the day, you felt a wave of relief, especially since John B, one of your friends, offered to walk you home—well, to Rafe's house. You and John B used to be closer, hanging out multiple times a week, but Rafe’s possessive and jealous nature doesn’t allow you to anymore. Even though you don’t hang out with him now, he still checks in on you from time to time, showing you that he still cares about you, which you appreciate a lot. When you first started dating, John B openly expressed his dislike for Rafe. Despite your numerous attempts to convince him that Rafe genuinely does take great care of you, John B couldn’t be convinced. Their animosity towards one another runs too deep.

The two of you were walking side to side as you approached Rafe's street, wandering by large villas with breathtaking front gardens. John B didn't appear in the least bit afraid or worried and you couldn’t understand why. Everyone, including yourself, was terrified, not daring to go outside unless needed. You eyed him with confusion as you were thinking it over, which he seemed to catch on right away. “What? Do I have something on my face?” he asked, a smile appearing on his face as he continued walking. “Are you not scared, John B?” You asked with curiosity. A small chuckle left his mouth before he shook his head, “Scared? Have you seen him? He wears a silly costume from some dumb movie.” It went silent for a while as you were at a loss for words, wondering how someone could not be afraid of a murderer.

John B soon ended the silence before you could go further into the topic, “Hey, remember when we rehearsed for that play? And we had to dance together and you-“ he laughs while holding his stomach, pausing for a moment to collect himself before continuing, “and you fell and ripped your clothes?” You felt your face heat up and an embarrassed smile crossed your lips before you hit him in the arm. Those were the memories you did not want to relive, embarrassing yourself in front of numerous students and staff members. “Oh stop it! First of all, it wasn’t even that funny and secondly, completely your fault, by the way” You responded, defending yourself but unable to hide your laughter.

“It went like this” John B said before he lifted you up and spun you around, causing you to scream and laugh hysterically. “Stop! I-“ you tried to yell at him but you were laughing too hard, your abdominal muscles hurting. You two giggled as he gently set you back down on the ground before you turned your gaze towards Rafe’s house and your face dropped instantly. Rafe was waiting for you, leaning against the doorframe and standing with his arms crossed, a stern expression on his face as he looked at you both.

You swallowed and gathered yourself quickly before putting on a forced smile and turning to face John B. But John B was staring back at Rafe with an equally as intimidating look on his face, so much so that he stopped noticing you. “Thank you for taking me home. I appreciate it” you said, attempting to defuse the tension before moving slowly in Rafe's direction— but both their eyes didn’t leave each other for a second. Every muscle in your body tightened and the tension in the air was apparent.

You walked up to Rafe, ascending the stairs to his enormous home's front door. “H-hi baby, missed you” you spoke as you drew nearer to him, a whiff of his signature cologne filling your nose. You looked back at John B and saw him heading to his own home, thankfully. Rafe rolled his eyes before he turned around and made his way inside the house. As you nervously followed him and silently shut the door behind you, your brows pinched in concern.

“Baby?” you whispered, trailing after Rafe into the house as you watched his back, his muscles prominent through the tight shirt he was wearing. “Are you angry at me?” You asked in a low voice, worried about the answer. He turned around and came up to you, his large hands cupping your face as he stared directly into your eyes. “I could never be angry at you, sweet girl. You’re my everything. Don’t ever forget that, alright?” he said before you nodded, a wave of relief instantly washing over you. He kissed you on the forehead and you closed your eyes to take in the moment, feeling lucky to have such a caring and sweet boyfriend, you thought. But then the night fell.

“Fuck! No, no, no!” A terrible nightmare about the killer had you breathing heavily when you woke up in the middle of the night. You immediately sat up straight, your chest heaving up and down as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes. “Rafe?” You called out, desperate for his comfort and affection.

After a short while, there was still no response. Still feeling a little disoriented, your brows knitted as you attempted to sort through your thoughts. But something felt off. You extended your arm around the bed but there was nothing but pillows next to you. This is when you started to feel a little panicked and horrible thoughts pierced your mind like needles jabbing at your skin. “Rafe?!” you called out again in fear, a little louder this time with still no response. You hastily turned on the light, a perplexed frown appearing on your face. The bed was empty. Rafe was usually a very deep sleeper so waking up in the middle of the night wasn’t anything like him. You pushed the blanket off of yourself and stood up, turning off the light again before carefully leaving the room to investigate the situation.

The only sound you could hear as you wandered around his house was the clock ticking as you made your way to the stairs, slowly walking down. His enormous house was terrifying at night, your trembling, sweaty hand gripping the railing tightly. You gasped at hearing heavy footsteps coming from the kitchen downstairs. Tears started forming in your eyes, afraid that anything had happened to Rafe. Scenarios played in your head of the killer entering the house and taking Rafe, torturing him or even worse, murdering him.

When you got to the bottom of the stairs, you took your time making your way to the kitchen while holding your breath. The footsteps became louder now as you approached the person. You were so scared and worried about what you might find behind the wall that tears were streaming down your face. You approached the kitchen cautiously and peeked inside. It took you a few blinks to get used to the darkness, but you exhaled deeply in relief when you saw Rafe in the kitchen, unharmed. Thank god. You reasoned that he must have gotten hungry or wanted to grab a glass of water. You hurried into the kitchen to hug him tight and take him back into bed immediately.

“Rafe? Baby? I saw you weren’t in bed so I-“ you began, feeling relieved to see your boyfriend standing in front of you before your jaw fell as you stood there, unblinking, trying to process what you were seeing. “Rafe…” You gulped and stared in horror, taking in the black and white mask he was holding in addition to the fresh blood on his body. You blinked a few times, thinking you must be still in a dream, but that wasn’t the case— Rafe was still standing in front of you, equally as shocked before he slowly approached you.

“I can explain” He whispered softly, wary of what to say. His expression showed panic as he hurriedly placed the mask down on the table. “Okay, okay, it’s all good. We got this” he mumbled to himself as he rubbed his temples, letting out a frustrating moan. Fear coursed through your body as you stood there motionless and terrified. “Baby, listen, alright? Sometimes-“ he began, pacing around the kitchen at this point, “Sometimes things just gotta happen. We don’t always have a choice, got that? And- and, I just gotta protect you- gotta protect you from all those bad men who wanna take you away.” Your legs felt weak and all kinds of emotions shot through your body. You couldn’t move, you couldn’t do anything. Your breathing quickened as Rafe continued his ramblings. “I just- I just can’t let that happen, alright? You’re my sweet and innocent girl. I can’t let anyone take you from me, never.”

Your trembling hand moved to your mouth and your eyes grew wide when it finally clicked whose blood it was on Rafe. “Rafe? Is that…” you gulped, secretly hoping you were wrong. “Is that John B’s blood?” he turned around quickly and locked eyes with you. “Baby, you know I didn’t have a choice, okay? I had to do it. I need to protect you, protect you from all the evil in this world” He said, trying his best to convince you. You blinked a few times, tears streaming down your face as you tried to comprehend what had just happened. Everything was difficult for you, your head hurting. But you loved Rafe. He was everything to you. He took care of you. He looked after you. In the end, he was the one who was always there for you no matter what. You needed him. You wiped the tears from your face using your shirt's sleeve and glanced back at him, nodding. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, and you could see the relief immediately wash over him.

“But…“ Your heart was pounding out of your chest and your mind was racing with a gazillion thoughts. “But what if anyone saw you?” Taking the mask off the table, Rafe covered his head with it. “That’s what this is for” he said, his voice muffled by the mask. You looked him up and down, examining every inch of him, from the ghostface mask to his blood-covered body, the muscles emphasised by his tight outfit. Fuck. You felt something happening inside of you. It wasn't worry or fear— it was something else. Rafe’s masked head tilted as he stared at you, trying to read your expression.

“Wait a minute…” he began, moving closer, “I know that look” Rafe chuckled and he approached you slowly as you took a step back with each step he took forward before your lower back hit the kitchen counter. His face came closer to yours as your breath hitched. He reached over to the kitchen counter beside you, grabbing the knife from next to you and putting it under your chin to lift your head up. “You dirty fucking slut. I see what’s happening here” His face drew nearer, whispering into your ear, “you’re turned on by this.”

“W-What?” you said, trying to sound confused but you couldn’t deny it, you knew he was right. The pointy end of the knife slightly dug into your skin. Instead of feeling scared, you could feel your core aching for him. “Don’t act stupid. God, you’re even more fucked up in that little head of yours than I thought” Rafe chuckled before he took the knife from under your chin and slipped both hands under your ass, hauling you up quickly and tossing you over his shoulder with ease while holding the knife in his hand. You let out a small squeal before he walked you both towards the bedroom.

“Tonight, I’m gonna have to show you who the fuck you belong to.” Rafe stated in a low voice through his mask, causing you to feel yourself getting wetter and wetter. You felt ashamed, as well as a horrible person. Your skin was stained with blood at this point— John B’s blood. But as much as he was your friend, Rafe was your boyfriend, your caregiver, your everything. And you started to think that maybe… maybe he was right. Maybe you need someone to protect you, to keep the bad men away. Maybe Rafe saw something in John B that you didn’t— in the end, you knew Rafe only ever wanted the best for you. You both loved each other forever and always, and apparently, that went as far as killing for you.

Rafe threw you onto the bed after pushing open the door to his bedroom and shutting it behind him. You slightly bounced on the bed before you turned around, resting on your elbows as you looked at him with big, innocent eyes. He stood in front of you, his arms folded and the moonlight seeping through the cracks of the blinds, illuminating your boyfriend’s menacing demeanour— the blood-stained black and white mask, a knife gripped in his right hand, and the slightly torn black outfit, indicating that John B tried to fight for his life. The only features of your boyfriend’s face visible were his blue eyes, gazing directly at you.

“You’re gonna be a good girl and listen to me, alright?” he said, with a harsh and intimidating tone. You nodded as you swallowed, anticipation raging through your body. He slightly tilted his masked head, thinking about what he was going do with you till an idea struck. He approached you slowly, footsteps heavy due to his boots. His right hand played with the knife, showing that he had plans with it. He leaned over you when he was close enough, then slid the knife under your shirt. Gazing at him with wide eyes, you gasped as he quickly tore apart your clothes, leaving you only in your bra and underwear.

“Prettiest fucking girl I have ever seen. Fuck, I am so lucky.” He now placed the knife under the straps of your bra and sliced it open, then he did the same to your underwear and tossed it aside. You let out a small whine, and he turned to face you immediately. “That… that was my favourite set” You sulked as you gazed at the shredded lingerie set lying on the floor. Rafe simply chuckled before he gripped your face forcefully, turning you to look at him. “Don’t be fucking dumb, you know I can buy you every single lingerie set that you want in the whole fucking world.”

Before you could say anything else, he grabbed your body and turned you around, placing you on your hands and knees with your ass facing him. You were soaking at this point, your wetness dripping onto the mattress. You suddenly felt the cold knife against your core, gathering the wetness as you shivered and tried to remain motionless. “Jesus fucking Christ, you’re dripping. You could’ve just told me you had some fucked up kink for killers, you know. Would’ve made it a lot easier for me” Rafe taunted, and you just knew he was smirking under that mask.

“Grip the sheets baby, maybe even bite them if you need to. Dunno how high your pain tolerance is.” he said, causing you to worry for a moment as your hands clutched the sheets under you. “But I guess we’re about to find out.” He slapped your ass swiftly before you felt the sharp knife against the skin of your ass, digging into the flesh. Your eyes closed and your teeth clenched together as you hissed at the sensation.

“R… A…” he began, as he carved his name into your skin. “It- it hurts” you cried out as you gripped the sheets. “Nuh-uh, not done yet. F…” he continued, unaffected by your whines and pleads. “E…” When he was done, he stood back to admire his work of art. “All done. Looks pretty good if I say so myself.” he said with a satisfied tone. Your eyes began to well up with tears as a result of the stinging in your skin. “All fucking mine.” He said before throwing the knife on the ground.

 “On your knees in front of me. Now” he ordered, and you didn’t waste a second before you were sitting on your knees on the ground, gazing up at him through your eyelashes. His gloved hand brushed over your face before gripping your chin, “You are nothing but my dirty whore. Got that? My property. And I will kill anyone that gets in the way.” You nodded, feeling desperate for him. He undressed himself, leaving him completely naked except for the mask on his face. You observed him— the muscles on his toned body, the blood splatters, his hard cock leaking precum. You needed him.

“Make yourself useful for once” he growled, before slapping your cheek and causing you to hiss. “Suck.” was all he said as he grabbed a handful of your hair and pulled you towards him. You started by swirling your tongue over the tip and around the length of his shaft, causing him to throw his head back and grunt. He became impatient quickly, as he pushed your head further down, his cock hitting the back of your throat. “Juuust like that, princess, doing so good for me.”You were momentarily taken aback by his sweet words, but you weren’t unfamiliar with his mood swings. You knew what to do to get him to praise you— being a good girl and doing what he says, at all times. You never wanted to disagree with Rafe or reject him. You'd go to any lengths for him.

“Holy fuck” he growled as you continued bobbing your head, saliva running down your face. He had a strong grip on your hair as he fucked your face while you held on to his thighs. He let out a grunt before shoving you off him right before he could cum, sending you stumbling backwards a little. He gestured with his head for you to get back on the bed as he grabbed the knife from the ground. You hurriedly returned to the bed and waited for him on your hands and knees before he positioned himself behind you. He then slapped your ass, making you cry out as the cuts from earlier made it sting even more.

“Aww, does that hurt, princess?” he asked, running a hand over the spot he had just slapped as you nodded, trying to hold back the tears that were starting to well up in your eyes. “But my girl can handle that, right?” he said as he teased your core with his fingers. “My girl can handle anything, as long as she got me.” he unexpectedly slipped a finger into you, causing you to moan out at the feeling. He moved in and out before adding another one, pushing his fingers knuckles deep into you. You arched your back as he curled his fingers and moved them against your g-sport skilfully. Rafe was amazing at fingering, making you squirt and cum countless times. But he quickly pulled out before you could even feel your release nearing, causing you to whine. “I know baby, I know. But I need you to cum around my cock, alright?”

He grabbed your hips and positioned himself at your entrance before he pushed into you in one quick thrust without any warning. You gasped as he buried himself into you balls deep. “Always so fucking tight. Fuuuck” Rafe groaned as he watched his cock disappear into your body. He wasted no time by thrusting in and out of you right away as he stretched you out completely. You felt a hint of pain but it was soon overpowered by pleasure. He set a steady and rough rhythm, massaging your walls perfectly.

“You’re gonna be mine forever, got that? No one will ever get to touch you.” he said as he gripped a handful of your hair and yanked your head towards him. He took the knife from beside him, but you were too cock-drunk to even notice it while your eyes rolled to the back of your head. You unexpectedly felt the icy blade against your throat, causing you to gasp. “Don’t. Fucking. Move.” he whispered into your ear, his voice muffled because of the mask as he continued his brutal thrusts along with the sharp knife against your throat. You felt your release building as your wetness trickled down the sides of your thigh. His cock felt so deep inside of you, hitting your g-spot repeatedly.

“Gonna cum so fucking deep inside of you, sweet girl, you’re gonna be leaking my cum for days.” he growled with one hand firmly gripping your hip and the other holding the knife. “Even better if a baby starts growing in that pretty body of yours, so I can fully claim you as mine.” His words made you even more aroused and you could feel yourself getting closer and closer to your release. “I’m c-close” was all you could manage to say as you heard him groan from under the mask.

“Cum for me. Cum all over my cock like the dirty slut you are” his words were enough to push you over the edge as your orgasm washed over you, causing you to see stars and your body to shake. You cried out with your mouth agape as you clenched around his cock. “Good fucking girl”

You could feel his hips stagger and lose rhythm, knowing he was close as well. One last powerful thrust and you could feel his warm cum painting your walls, milking every last drop of his seed inside of you. The grip on your hips tightened, nails digging into your skin as he rode out his high. “Fuck, fuck, fuck” he cursed while panting. You collapsed onto the bed, chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. You attempted to get up but rafe quickly stopped you, gazing at you through the mask.

“Oh, we’re not done yet.” he chuckled, before flipping you onto your back and caging you between his arms, “Round two, princess.”

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[ceilidho]

take me home, country road

[ao3]

You have nothing on your person apart from a hastily packed suitcase and the dress you came into town wearing, on the run from trouble back home. Too bad John's missing a bride that matches your description. Or: the 1800s (mistaken) mail order bride au (part 7)

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6

-

You watch him like a hawk after that. 

Not because anything’s changed. In fact, nothing’s changed. Seeing him drag a man by the collar of his shirt, the look in his eyes punishing and severe, has only confirmed the essential imbalance in your relationship. You don’t suffer the same fate as that man being dragged from the bar not because of mercy or leniency or forgiveness, but because the truth hasn’t yet come out. You’re safe because the truth is still hidden, a fact that could change at the drop of a hat. 

The thought makes you wary. You watch John in the days after with a scrutiny that borders on the paranoid. Does he already know? Has he left you stewing in ignorance all this time while waiting for the proper authorities to arrive? When he looks at you, does he see the blood on your hands? Does he know that he’s looking at a murderer? Does he know that your sins weigh on you like heavy stones dragging you down into the earth?

Every time the porch steps creak, your heart turns to stone and betrayal rushes up your throat like acid, and it burns. 

Then the door opens and John walks in. His face lights up when his eyes fall on you. “Hi darlin’.”

All you can do is let out a shuddering breath and slump into his embrace. 

You’re waiting for it to happen. Even when he pulls you into his chest at night, a big arm settled around your waist and his palm spread wide over your belly, you tense and wait for the truth to come out. But all he does is sigh and fall asleep, tucking you closer into his chest. You stare at the wall until the grooves between the wooden boards start to expand, the darkness encompassing every inch of the wall before bleeding down to the floorboards and up to the ceiling. Then you wake up and it’s the next day. 

The truth is imminent. It shines its light on the darkened path before it and stalks forward. You cower in the shadows waiting for it to find you, hopeful that it won’t. Sure that it will. 

There’s never a good moment to pack your bags and leave, and the longer you stay—as the days turn into a week since you first disembarked from the train and wandered into a town soaked in russet and red—the harder it seems to get a moment of peace. Though John wasn’t exaggerating when he said that a sheriff’s job never stops, you hadn’t thought that it would involve so much. 

Between chores and John and the townsfolk, you can’t get a moment to yourself. The closest you come to it is when Kate leaves you to your thoughts while she helps the customers. Even then, she still comes by every now and again to offer you a tea or brandy ball to suck on. 

You resent the idea that you need to be babysat, but he isn’t exactly wrong either. You’re not too stubborn to admit that. Under Kate’s watchful eye, you aren’t scurrying off anywhere. Instead, you help out around the shop where you can, offering to stock the shelves and sweep the floors. On occasion, you even get on your hands and knees in front of the shop to pull up the weeds, but that draws more attention than you’re comfortable with. They simply aren’t as concerned with weeds out here.

Most of your time is spent loitering around town waiting for John to take you home. Sometimes you join him for the day, trailing along after him when he goes out to collect the taxes or you accompany him when he has to attend trials and hearings in the court house, where you sit quietly in the public gallery and watch in rapt attention as the magistrate conducts the court proceedings, but there are days where that’s simply not possible.

“You’re gonna spend the day with Laswell, alright?” John tells you, pinching your chin to tilt your head up. 

He loves that little gesture, you’ve realized. Loves to touch you and guide you with a hand on your back or chin or arm, a hand brushing down the side of your waist to pull you in, gripping you by the nape of your neck just to hold. Even now, in broad daylight and in front of the window to the general store where anyone could look out and see the two of you, he keeps his thumb there, reluctant to let you go. The thought makes your neck go hot.

“When will you be back?” you ask.

“Later this afternoon—before dusk, so don’t go worrying about heading home without me. I have to see to something a few towns over.”

“Oh…what do they need you for?”

John frowns. “You’ve got an awful lot of questions today.”

“Never mind. Have a safe trip.” You don’t know why his reluctance to tell you anything frustrates you so, especially when he has good reason to, but even you can hear the way your voice grows petulant. 

His thumb squeezes against your chin, holding your head in place when you try to turn away. “I’m overseeing a hanging. Couple of men were found guilty of murder.” He studies you so intensely that he can practically see in your eyes the way your stomach turns at that. “See, I thought that might upset you. This is why I didn’t wanna tell you, darlin’.”

“It’s fine,” you say, swallowing. “I’m a big girl.”

“Yeah,” John agrees, brushing his thumb up your chin until it tugs at your bottom lip, watching the way it snaps back into place when he releases it. 

He makes every moment feel like a last goodbye and a homecoming. You almost can’t meet his eyes under the intensity of his stare, but you also can’t look away. Not with how he looks at you like some precious thing. 

You expect it before it happens, but when he dips his head to plant a soft kiss on your lips, you go breathless for a moment. His beard is bristly against your skin, just south of coarse. The kiss turns into another, even more tender than the first. You resent the way you lean forward when he pulls away, chasing after him. 

“You be good for Miss Kate, okay?” he says, waiting for your reassurance. 

“I will,” you rasp, mortified at how easily he unravels you and how plainly you let it show. John grins when he hears the tremble in your voice. 

Then he leaves, riding off towards where the horizon dips below the visible and you watch until he disappears completely, falling away with it. Kate beckons you inside after that, and it’s just hot enough out that you gather up the skirt of your dress and follow after her, climbing up the steps to the general store.

Kate is a tough nut to crack. She’s kind and never rebuffs your questions when you make conversation, but she also isn’t exactly forthcoming with personal information. She seems more than happy to let the conversation lapse into silence. When there isn’t a customer to serve, she’ll take out a leather-bound notebook and write, going so deep into her own thoughts that you sometimes need to call her name a couple times before she’ll respond. 

“Kate,” you say again, waiting for her to finally blink and look up, which she does with only the faintest glimmer of impatience in her eyes. “Care to join me on a walk? I need to stretch my legs and…well, I don’t know my way around just yet.”

She snaps her book shut, winding a bit of string around it before placing it back beneath the counter. “There’s a restaurant on the other side of town if you care for a bite as well. I could do with something to eat.”

It’s not as much of a walk as you might have expected. You learn along the way that Kate has lived in town for several years, taking the shop over from her predecessor, a former employer prone to drinking and prone to expiring from that very same vice. She speaks of him with familiarity and affection for the dead, but none of the longing and misery that you’ve come to expect from someone grieving a loss.

“You came far just to find a husband,” she remarks when the two of you are seated at a windowside booth in the restaurant. She spreads a cloth over her lap and you follow her lead. 

You bite your lip. “I’ve heard good things about the frontier.”

Kate looks amused by that. “Now who’s been lying to you?”

You laugh, half genuine and half to keep the atmosphere light. You don’t tell her that no one lied to you about going out west because no one had said those words to you in the first place. There hadn’t been enough time for a conversation after the event, only enough time to unlock the study door and wash your hands of the blood in the sink downstairs before fleeing the manor with only your purse and cardigan, the feather duster still lying on the floor upstairs. You hadn’t even bothered going home.

There’s no telling what your aunt and uncle must have thought. You try not to think about that because there’s no going back now. You had the luxury of a single cry on the train as it chugged away from the station and the day slipped into night, but nothing more than that and nothing since. 

You tuck into your food when the waitress comes back with your meal.

“John said you were a schoolteacher before this?” Kate says, pulling you back into the conversation. 

It makes you nervous to lie too much about a subject you hardly know, so you smile and nod instead of responding. 

“You must be quite the polymath,” she continues, eyes downcast, not allowing you a good read on her. “Arithmetic, writing, history—goodness knows the skills one needs nowadays with the leaps and bounds in education. Thank goodness for the Common School reformers, giving women the opportunity to develop young minds.”

“Yes,” you croak, then clear your throat. “I certainly did my best to…educate the children.” 

Comical, given that you’d dropped out of school at the age of fourteen to work in a factory sewing buttons onto shirts. 

“And was the profession enjoyable? I know John mentioned you were keener on starting a family than continuing on as an instructor, but was it an informative experience?”

“Oh yes, it was. I enjoyed it. Immensely.”

“It must have been nice to work in a profession with such little turmoil.”

“I couldn’t have asked for better,” you agree, your smile tight now, wavering only a bit at the corners. 

Kate stares at you for a beat too long. It makes your stomach hurt and you fight against the urge to wilt under her stare. You can’t imagine you’ve said something wrong with how little you’ve said, but her stare makes your skin crawl. 

Finally, she smiles, the skin around her eyes creasing. “Well, that’s just lovely to hear.”

You put the conversation out of your mind on the walk back, sure that you must have imagined the flicker in her eyes. 

John comes back earlier than you expected. You swear your heart jolts in your chest when you hear the sound of a horse whinnying outside the shop out of nowhere and a man’s low, rough voice responding back, soothing it. You hear the sound of dismount, boots hitting the ground hard, and then come up the steps, each step making the spurs on the back of his boots rattle. 

When he opens the door, his eyebrows jump up at the sight of you already there waiting. Your eagerness should embarrass you, and it does, but there’s not much you can do about it, and there’s even less you can do about the way you melt when he says, “There you are, darlin’. Time to go home.”

Precious is the world where home has come to mean something tender and soft, even as much as you’ve pushed against it. You still hold fast against the notion, steeling yourself when John helps you up onto Buttercup and follows suit, riding home at almost a gallop. You hear his laughter on the wind when you yelp and nearly slide off, his arm around you the only thing holding you in place. 

“It’d be easier to ride if I had pants,” you complain when you dismount, hands pressed to his shoulders when he helps you down. “How do women even ride sidesaddle on their own?”

“Plenty of women do, darlin’. It’s nothing out of the ordinary.”

“Well, I don’t like it.”

“We can get you pants if you need them so badly,” John says, looking up to the sky like Lord help me suffer this woman. “But that means I’ll be teaching you how to ride Buttercup on your own. Think you can handle that?”

You balk at the thought. “…Let me think about it.”

He snorts. “You do that.”

He leaves you to your thoughts when he takes the horses out to the paddock for a bit. 

You sit out on the porch and watch the sunset while the horses run around the pen, soaking in the last hour of daylight. Overhead, clouds as big as mountains pass, heavy like an oil painting. Off in the distance, you can see thick clouds blotting out the sky entirely, the belly of them split open and letting out a downpour of biblical proportions. You only grow a bit nervous when you notice the wall of rain moving closer to your house with the wind, inching forward more every minute.

It’s not long before John notices it too. He whistles for the horses and waits until they trot back over to the gate, fixing the lead to their mantles again and leading them one by one back into the stable. A light drizzle begins to pour. It churns up the dust and dirt when it hits the ground, scenting the air with the fragrant smell of earth.

You head over to the stable as John brings in the last horse, hovering by the door while you watch him run his hand down Buttercup’s muzzle, whispering softly to her. If he notices your presence, he doesn’t acknowledge it, his attention focused solely on her. 

It gives you a chance to admire him from the back. Thick thighs in indigo jeans that seem almost painted on. Shirt tucked into his jeans, stretched taut at the shoulders; dark droplets of rain drying already. The dusting of hair on the back of his neck. You can see the fine lines on his forehead and in the corner of his eye from the side angle and it reminds you again that he’s older and more weathered than you, settled into his age rather than floundering in it. 

“It’s raining,” you say, just to have something to say. You shrink under his gaze when he turns towards you, faint amusement in his eyes.

“I noticed.”

You cringe at that, aware that he knows. He’s the one that brought the horses in after all. There’s just something in you that feels compelled to open your mouth when he’s around. An impulse that makes you cheep like a bird. 

“Looks like a bad one,” you mutter instead of shutting your mouth, instead of hightailing it back to the house and shutting all the windows to keep the rain from coming in. Useless girl. 

“Probably rain all night,” John says, squinting out at the sky through the open door. It’s darker now, a storm brewing. 

“Is there…is there anything we have to do? To get ready?” You don’t know why you say we like this is a partnership, but it comes unbidden and you know if he told you to hurry back and take in the porch chairs, you would. 

“Nothing to worry about. I’ll close up the stables and seal the windows—storm probably won’t hit for another hour or two. After dinner, we’ll turn in early.”

With a final stroke down Buttercup’s jaw, he steps away and moves towards you. You feel rooted in place again at his approach; the thought of taking a step back never even occurs to you. When he finally reaches you, he doesn’t hesitate to reel you in by your hips, drawing you into a deep, wet kiss that he breaks only when you whimper into his mouth. 

“You feelin’ better about being out here?” he asks, low and intimately. “Looked like you had a good time with Laswell.”

“She’s nice,” you say, deflecting from the other question. 

John hums his agreement, readjusting his hold on your waist until every inch of him is pressed against you. Your breasts are flattened to his chest, belly pressed to his; every hard inch of him, solid as an oak.

“C’mon, honey, talk to me,” he murmurs. “Have I been treating you right? You still have any reservations about marrying me?”

“Bit late for reservations, isn’t it?”

He clucks his tongue. “‘Course it ain’t. Won’t change anything, but I still wanna know.”

It’s hard not to consider the possibility of being honest with him for a change when his gaze borders on the devout. No one in the history of time has ever looked at you like this, like you hung up the moon and stars. The thought chokes you up. In all the years of your life, has one other person looked at you and asked if everything was to your liking? John’s love borders on reverence, straddles the narrow divide between the telluric and the celestial, the earthly and the divine. 

It’s dizzying. And you’re not built for subterfuge. Not built to lie to the one man that, despite everything, despite taking you from your former life by force, has offered you a new one on a silver platter. 

You wet your lips, conscious of how dry your mouth suddenly is. John’s eyes follow the glide of your tongue over your lip.

And then you lie. “None whatsoever. I’m happy here.”

Maybe it’s a half-lie. After he shuts the stable doors and barricades them to keep the doors from swinging open in the midst of the storm, you wind up back on the porch watching the dark clouds up in the sky slowly approach, John at your back this time. 

John tilts your head up into another kiss. You don’t know when you made the conscious decision to let him think you amenable to this relationship, but you cling to that thought desperately when his tongue licks into your mouth velvety smooth. 

The roof extends out over the porch, keeping the two of you dry, but you can hear the sound of raindrops pelting the slate shingles. 

“You’ll see, honey,” he says against your lips, the words rumbling through you, buzzing under your skin and making it tingle. “‘M gonna make you so happy. Never gonna even think of leaving me.”

The words dissolve on your tongue. Swallowed down dry. With his arm hooked around your waist and hand tilting your head up, there’s no way you could think of anything else except wanting more. 

It’s hard to talk when he has you up against the railing, your dress pulled up and his fingers spreading apart your lower lips. It’s not the first time he’s touched you there, but it’s the longest he has, at least without the barrier of your underwear. His fingers spread your labia delicately, middle finger running up the wet seam. He hums into the back of your head while he does and presses a kiss into your hair. 

“Always so soft and wet here, darlin’,” John murmurs, stroking his fingers up your inner lips and petting the sensitive nub at the apex of your sex. “Why didn’t you tell me you’ve been aching for it? Been waiting for you to give me the word.”

Waiting, he says, while tucking a finger into your sex, curling it up into you and chuckling under his breath when your hands clamp tighter on the railing and your back arches. Just a single finger feels like more than you can handle. John has thick fingers; thick fingers with calluses that you can feel on the delicate flesh between your legs. It plugs you up tight, more so when your core clenches involuntarily around his finger. His chuckle descends into a groan, then a sigh. 

He pulls his finger out against the squeeze of your internal muscles, ignoring the way you whisper, “No, please” under your breath. 

You only stop pleading for more when he swirls his finger around your pearl again, lavishing it with attention. “Aching? I’m not—”

“You are, darlin’,” he breathes, and now you feel him pull you from the railing, stepping back to take a seat on the porch swing. He pulls you into his lap, sitting you across it instead of with your back to his chest like he did in the bath the other day. 

“Anyone could come by—” you hiss, fluffing the skirt of your dress out around your thighs when he tries to push it back up to get his hands back on your nethers. 

“You tense up when you’re nervous, honey,” John cuts you off, forcing his hand back up your dress until he pushes his finger back into your quim, delighted to find it hotter and wetter, practically dripping onto his lap. “See, there you go. Just relax. I’ll make you feel good, darlin’. We’ll take care of that nasty ache.”

You pant through each pulse of his finger. You don’t even think about looking up to meet his eyes, not when he stares down at you with obvious adoration and devotion, the emotion splayed across his face. He looks entranced at the sight of you coming apart on his fingers, a flush high on his cheeks. 

“No one’s gonna come by. Not this far out. ‘Sides, they know to keep their distance. Newlyweds need their space, right, darlin’?”

Supposing he’s right and no one comes out this way. Isn’t it still unseemly to do this out in the open? So far from your marriage bed? John seems incapable of relegating his affections to that space, unconcerned with propriety or modesty. You wonder with a spark of fear if he’d even budge if someone were to come trotting up the walkway on horseback or if he’d just wave them off and send them on their way. You don’t think he’s the kind of man to want an audience, thank the Lord, but he seems entirely unphased by even the idea of being intruded upon. 

You melt when he shushes your worries, feeling you tense against him, and sinks his fingers in deeper, now another. Don’t fret, he murmurs against your temple, sighing softly. I’ve got you, honey. Ain’t going nowhere.

You aren’t, are you, you think wildly. The land around here goes on forever and the train whistles by only twice a week if you’re lucky. Then townsfolk know you by face and a false name, but that would be enough for them to grow concerned if they were to spot you heading for the train with your suitcases packed, and with John or one of his deputies always in town, there’s little chance you’d be able to board without one of them interfering. 

Still though, it’s better than the alternative. For over a week now you’ve been on high alert, waiting for an arrest warrant to be slipped onto John’s desk with your likeness drawn on it, and for him to come collect you stone-faced and furious. It could still come. 

He keeps you tucked into his arms and nestled close, shushing you when you hiccup and pinch your lips together to keep quiet. He lets you have that, unphased by the way you try to hide it, only tutting when you try to fight it, curling his fingers up inside you and rubbing a spot inside of you that makes it hard to breathe. 

“I could just take it, but you’re gonna give it to me, darlin’,” John says.

And you do. Messily, noisily. Burying your face in his neck and sobbing it out, humiliation wrung out of you, squeezing out every drop. He smells like musk and old sweat, amber warm. Liquid gold. You press your nose into the skin of his neck and draw in a breath so deep that you go lightheaded. 

John keeps his fingers tucked in you until you stop shaking, talking you through it even though you hardly hear a word. How could you over the rush in your head, the blood in your ears? When you open your eyes and look around, the sky is swollen and dark, the wall of rain 

“C’mon, honey,” he says, pulling his fingers out and placing his hand low on your belly. “Let’s go inside.”

You sit across from him at dinner, eating under candlelight. The weight of his gaze for once isn’t stifling. 

The rain only starts in earnest when he’s pulled the quilt over the two of you and pulled you into his arms. The rain pelting the windowpane dulls to a low roar when you turn over and snuggle deeper into John’s chest, pulling the blanket over your head. Tomorrow, the grass will be greener than the day before. You can feel it in your bones.

#ceil writing #cod mw2 #cod x reader #price x you #john price x reader #price x reader #price/reader #john price/reader #john price

[moonstruckme]

love the doctor!remus content!!!

would love to read about him in a similar setting as the last request u did, where reader doesn’t tell him she‘s had to go to urgent care (maybe she lost her phone) and he‘s in his big scary attending mood but the moment he steps into the room and realizes reader is the patient he goes all concerned and cooing and all the interns are confused as to what happened to calm collected and kinda cool doctor lupin :((((

Thanks love!

cw: hospital, mention of stitches

doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

You can hear him talking as he moves down the line of small curtained-off rooms, your heart contracting at the sound of your boyfriend’s voice but too shy to interrupt him while he’s working. Remus’ tone is clipped and all business, and you can tell by how quickly his voice draws closer that he’s striding toward you in that brisk way he does when he’s busy. 

“This one’s already been treated,” he’s saying to someone, “so we’re just checking in before discharge. Let me ask some of the necessary questions first, and then we’ll ask the patient’s permission for you to ask some as well.” 

He looks nearly imposing as he whips open the curtain, clipboard in hand and a gaggle of what you guess must be residents on his heels. That all drains away, along with the blood in his face, when he sees you. “Dove?”

“Dove?” you hear one of the residents echo bemusedly. 

“Hi,” you say sheepishly. 

Remus steps toward where you sit on the bed, concern etched into the twin lines between his brows. “Honey, what happened? You” —he looks down at his clipboard, flustered— “you got stitches in your hand? What’d you need stitches in your hand for?” 

You glance between the many sets of eyes in the room, self-conscious in the face of so much attention. “I cut myself,” you answer quietly. 

Remus lowers the clipboard, looking devastated for you. “Why didn’t you call me?” he asks, but the reprimand in his tone is barely detectable behind all the fondness coating it. He holds out a hand. “Let me see.” 

You give him your hand obediently, doing your best to follow his example and ignore the murmurings from your small audience. He’s painstakingly careful as he removes the bandages to reveal your cut. It looks far better than it had when it had been bleeding all over your car on the drive over, but Remus still coos like it's the most grievous injury he’s seen in his career. 

“Seven stitches?” His lips turn down into a pout. “What’d you do to yourself, dovey?” 

You see one resident’s eyebrows fly up at the sappy pet name, exchanging a look with the one next to him. 

“I was trying to cut up the squash I bought last week,” you explain, unsure if you’re supposed to be talking to the room but directing your words only to your boyfriend, “and my knife slipped. I was going to call you when it wouldn't stop bleeding, but my phone died. I didn’t have time to charge it before I came.” 

Remus makes a gruff, reluctant sound of approval. “Well, I’m glad you came but I’m sorry I couldn’t be with you. Did it hurt very badly?” 

“Not really,” you lie quietly, but one of the residents behind you goes, “Doctor Lupin, is that one of the necessary questions we’re meant to be asking?” 

You flush, and Remus shifts modes in an instant, his look severe as he turns on the smart aleck. “No,” he says drily. “But this is still the portion where you’re meant to be quiet.” 

You sort of feel for the resident as they nod abashedly. Remus countenance warms again as he turns back towards you. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here,” he says, still cradling your injured hand in his.

“It wasn’t too bad.”

“Baby.” Remus’ brows scrunch together, the sympathy in his eyes almost too much for you to bear. “I can tell you’ve been crying, darling.” 

“Remus,” you chide embarrassedly, looking again to the residents gathered behind him. 

“Ah.” He drops a hand to your knee for an apologetic squeeze, turning to face your observers with more of an authoritative air. “Go find somewhere else to be,” he tells them. 

They scatter like mice, and Remus huffs when the last one out doesn’t shut the curtain, stepping away from you to draw it closed himself. 

“Sorry, I sort of forget they’re there sometimes,” he explains, but he’s already doubling down on the sweetness now that they’re gone, bringing your injured palm to his lips for a very, very gentle kiss. “Did you cry while they stitched you up, honey?” 

You might cry again now if he keeps looking at you like that. “A little,” you admit. “I was being a tad dramatic.” 

“I doubt that,” he says, thumb stroking lovingly over the line of stitches before picking up the bandage and beginning to rewrap it. “Hand wounds are no light thing. It probably bled a lot, hm?”

“There may be some cleanup waiting for me in both the kitchen and my car,” you joke. Remus gives you a small smile for your efforts. 

“Don’t worry about that, I’ll take care of it when I get home.” He finishes bandaging your hand and leans in to kiss your cheek. When he pulls back, his eyebrows have bunched again. “You’ve got mascara tracks on your cheeks,” he murmurs, cupping your face and brushing his thumb over the plane of your cheekbone. “S’breaking my heart.” 

“Sorry,” you say bashfully, and he rolls his eyes at you, pecking you again on the cheek like he can’t help himself. 

“What’re you sorry for, hm? Well,” he seems to reconsider, “you ought to be sorry about your knife skills, but that’s an apology you owe yourself, not me. I’ll be stowing all the knives where you can’t reach them from now on, by the way.” 

“First you’ll have to deal with all the residents you just disillusioned,” you tease him back. “Seems like they used to think you were cool and blase, but not anymore.” 

Remus shrugs. “People are multifaceted. If they didn’t know that already, then I taught them something today after all.” He gives you another soft look, though it’s far less worried than the others had been. “My poor darling,” he laments, setting his hands on either side of you to plant one final kiss on your forehead. “Rest here for a bit, and I’ll come get you in a few minutes, yeah?” 

“Okay, thanks,” you agree readily, happy to have a ride home considering the state you left your car in. “Gonna go try to restore your street cred with the residents?” 

“Dove, don’t be silly,” he says on his way out. “They worship me.” 

#doctor!remus #doctor!remus lupin #doctor!remus x reader #doctor!remus x fem reader #remus lupin au #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x fem!reader #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin x self insert #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin fic #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin hurt/comfort #remus lupin angst #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin scenario #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin oneshot #remus lupin one shot #marauders au #marauders #the marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fanfic #marauders fic #marauders fandom #hp marauders

[villainessbian]

Concept: most aliens can get anxious, can get scared, can get fight-or-flight. What most aliens do not get, however, is stress. Stress is a weird thing even by human standards. It can build up over time or be something tied to a very limited situation. It can be caused by a lot of things, and it comes in a lot of different ways. But it's a core human reaction, when a situation is wrong, it causes stress until it is righted. And it even affects different people differently!

Cue Human Cassandra, on a ship with her friend and co-worker Human Pauline. The ship is crewed with a mix of species. It's a cargo ship - load up in a space port, unload in another, get news and supplies during their stops, and live as an ever-shifting family as some of the two dozen crew members, give or take, get replaced. Some leave come payday, and new ones come looking for the thrill of low-level adventure, experiencing warp drives across the safer roads of the known universe.

But getting the supplies you need, or want, in stops is never so easy. Humans are new to the galactic community, and their needs misunderstood. Most broad-edibility food is bland for them, but that's okay. A big enough bag of their condiments can last them years. But ADHD meds... now that's less easy to get, the further from Earth you are. And a contract too big for their captain to pass on came up, much farther than the two humans expected.

Cassandra's mood deteriorated, her work priorities out of order, her sleep schedule in disarray. Little by little, she grew restless, shifting moods and gears unpredictably. A few weeks in and she was a mess, barely able to keep up with the minimum her job doing maintenance and running safety diagnostics for the route charting team required of her. While Pauline could help with the mechanical aspects of keeping the ship running, picking up the "slack", the safety had to be double-checked by the charting and pilot teams. When the curves of asteroid probability reached beyond a certain level, several hundred simulations had to be run, time-consuming processes had to be used, to avoid any collision at speeds beyond speed c. Some truly exotic things happened to ships that experienced those, but none of them contained the words "surviving crew." A safe route avoided any probability of collision over .1% and when going faster than light, any choice of course required thinking in 3 dimensions plus relative time to navigate dangerous probability fields in one piece, finding time-specific corridors and accounting for a dozen variables at once.

After she had a breakdown over a path she would normally have been able to find in under a minute, Pauline spoke to a concerned pilot team member:

"You have to understand her, this is a stressful situation and she's doing her best..."

"What do you mean by 'stressful'?" Gabalt asked. The furry little creature stood on two arched legs, and barely reached up to Pauline's shoulder, opening three wide eyes with curiosity and concern in equal parts.

"Things are... getting difficult for her, and keep getting more difficult because she does not have medication to help her brain be efficient. It makes her tired, and inefficient, and as it goes on, she's less and less able to cope with the situation. The longer this goes on, the worse it gets, and that is stress. Getting more tired because it takes more energy to deal with the situation, and less efficient because she's more tired, and things get harder because she's less efficient, on and on until something can solve the problem and the stress goes away."

"That sounds... hard. Do all humans have to deal with this?"

"Well, everyone has sources of stress, but she's got a disability. Without her meds, she gets stressed all the time. Not a lot all at once, but it always adds up."

"Oh no! So she'll be stuck like that until we get closer to Earth?"

"Most likely, yes."

But the most momentous thing to happen this day was not her breakdown. Not an hour later, alarms blared up. The simulation holograms all displayed blinking red masses - the less-travelled "safe route" was not as well protected! An asteroid range had been detected cutting through the border field, and it was in their way!

Pauline froze up, not knowing what to do. Gabalt was too surprised to act fast. All the courses from the ship's library of regular manoeuvres suggested a crash chance of over 60%, and mere seconds to act before entering the field!

Before anyone could react, Cassandra came in running from her corner to the front of the bridge, slamming the warp drive shutdown button. Most holograms stuttered and collapsed, the exit from FTL essentially dividing one or several of their dimensions by zero.

Looking quickly at the few remaining ones and gazing at the screens showing the current outside situation like a large window would have - plus a few critical extra points of data - she adjusted the angles manually while everyone still shuddered from the gravitational and temporal whiplash of suddenly coming back into normal time. Unblinkingly, she spotted the asteroids on the route while the ship was still going, if not at relativistic speeds, still fast enough for a single pebble they met to vaporise the Whipple shields, the outer hull, the inner hull, the crew members, and the hull again coming out if they but grazed it. Confirming the angles visually, she played with the reaction wheels, the thrusters, the gravity drives, to divert the ship's course just enough to miss a collision while not risking any grave injury on board. There was no time to react - if anything showed up straight ahead on the "unaugmented" outside view screens, it was too late to not get splatted. After half the crew had had the time to get thrown to the side or on the ground due to the rough handling, she'd managed to avoid any crash.

Gabalt was reeling. While it was surely not impossible, these was the kind of moves experienced veterans would never wish to attempt, and the margins for error were ridiculously low! She'd saved the ship and everyone on it, whereas she'd been unable to do a simple safety run so soon before?

Pauline was white as a sheet, but this was nothing compared to Cassandra, shaking violently and breathing unevenly.

"Pauline? What is she doing?"

"That's... probably the adrenaline."

"What's it for?"

"It's from stress. When it comes it overcharges the body. It's like the traditional, 'fight or flight' instinct from survival in prey-predator paradigms, it lets you move fast but paralyses thought... it feels pretty bad after a lot of it is released though. Now she's crashing down, must be harrowing."

"How did she do that? And you said her thoughts were paralysed for precision manoeuvres?"

Cassandra's voice came, nearly a mutter: "I just... had to. do it."

Gabalt needed to understand what happened.

"What do you mean you had to? Someone had to do it, but why you?"

"It- it was very stressful, I saw you freeze, and so."

"But... but HOW did you do all that? That was extremely complicated, few pilots -whose main craft is directly piloting- would want to even try doing that when given a choice!?"

"I had to. do it, so I did. I couldn't. couldn't make a mistake."

"This makes absolutely no sense."

Pauline interrupted. "She just works like that. Lots of stress and when people freeze up, humans with her condition... sometimes, surprisingly, function better in the moment than others can."

"Ah. So it's a human thing. of course, it's a human thing. NOTHING MAKES ANY SENSE WITH YOUR ACCURSED SPECIES" the diminutive pilot pouted.

And so one more story of the humans doing the impossible spread around. Humans of a subtype, more easily harmed, sometimes unstable and needing help for the simplest things... accomplishing odd, unthinkable, borderline heroic feats under duress none could be expected to withstand - but only then. Cursed, blessed? No story-teller seemed too certain. But the "magical" species never stopped surprising all others. And a new proverb developed: "it's not over until the human says it is".

#humans are space fae #humans are weird #humans are space orcs #humans are space australians #humans are deathworlders #earth is space australia #stress response #ADHD #attention deficit hyperactivity disorder

[am-i-interrupting]

Hello! couldI ask for a headcanon on Rosies, Alastors, Husk, Lucifers, Vaggies, Lutes, Vox's, and velvettes(all separate) reactions to Getting in an argument with the reader(whom they're in a relationship with)

Reader leaves to clear their head for a bit but doesn't return.

About a week later, they find they the reader, bleeding in an alley.

big fan of your work btw, sorry if my request was to complex but thank you for at least reading it.

have a lovely day!

Alastor

Alastor knows he can be an infuriating person to argue with.

He will just continue to smile and speak in a steady tone, as if he’s unaffected even if that’s anything but true.

You don’t get into fights often but when you do, it’s not unusual for you to leave to clear your head.

Normally you’re back the next day. By day two he was concerned. Day three he was worried.

He sent his shadows out to find you.

As soon as one of them saw someone who even resembled you in the slightest, he appeared there even if you weren’t.

When he found you wounded, he was furious.

Not at you, but the person who dared touch you.

His anger nearly consumed him but he pushed it to the side in order to tend to your wounds.

You appeared in his radio tower where he quickly patched you up.

His touches were quick, a bit painful, and precise.

But he got you patched quickly and efficiently.

The argument you had was quickly put aside in favor of the more pressing matter, finding his next guest for his show.

Husk

He’s a pretty reasonable guy most of the time. It takes something pretty big in order for either of you to yell much less storm out.

When Husk woke up with a hangover and you no where to be seen, he cursed himself as he remembered what he’d tried to forget.

He sent you a message, just asking if you were okay.

He followed it up the next day by calling and leaving you a voicemail. He explained that you could take as much time as you needed but please, just let him know you’re okay.

It was Charlie who found you, the princess far more willing to take action than he was. Too afraid of pushing your boundaries himself even if he was worried.

He immediately went into assistant mode as Niffty went into mini-nurse mode.

When you were stable, he took you up to your room and tucked you in bed.

“Don’t worry ‘bout the argument, baby. We can talk about it later.”

He kissed your forehead and laid beside you in bed, hand on your pulse.

Lucifer

He’s not a fighter. He’s an avoider.

He’s not even really conscious of the fact that he does it. He just isolates.

That’s probably what caused the disagreement in the first place.

When he found you, immediately in panic mode.

Just wants to make sure you’re okay.

Being the first Angel cast out of heaven, he knew how to tend to wounds and quickly attended to yours.

Stroking your hair the entire time, just begging you don’t leave him.

Lute

Lute can be stubbornly loyal and it was probably something to do with work or Adam that caused the fight.

Whatever, go ahead. Leave. It’s not like she cares.

She lies to herself so well she believes it until she finds you bleeding.

Which, what the fuck? You weren’t in Hell. These things didn’t happen.

She doesn’t know how to take care of wounds. She doesn’t know what she’s doing. She’s never seen someone bleed.

She takes you to Emily. Reluctantly.

Emily doesn’t really know what she’s doing but she quickly gets in contact with people who do, being so well contacted to the winners.

She is by your side, fight entirely forgotten, the entire time.

Will actually punch Adam if he says something about her going soft.

Rosie

Rosie is a problem solver.

That’s what she does.

She actually takes off work to try to figure out how to solve your problems and brain storm.

It’s only when she’s figured out several solutions she thinks will work that she tries to find you.

When she does, oh is she absolutely pissed.

But first, she’s stitching you up.

Very gentle but very honest.

A lot of “this’ll hurt” might give you something to bite on.

Will go out and find the poor soul who did this to you and serve their bloody heart on a silver platter to you.

Vaggie

She immediately goes into work mode.

She just overworks herself. She doesn’t know what to so she just tries to be useful.

When she finds you she feels her stomach turn and heart drop. Immediately yells for Charlie to get help as she bursts through the Hotel doors carrying you.

She’s holding your hand the entire time muttering how sorry she is.

She’ll pull you into her lap and stroke your hair.

Her hand will end up resting atop your pulse as she gets sleep for the first time since you left.

If you so much as breathe wrong, she’s calling for someone more experienced to check on you.

Velvette

Velvette’s a ruthless person to get in an argument with.

It’s not surprising when you leave and don’t come back.

She’ll act like she’s not worried but secretly is.

When she finds you, she’s swearing up and down and she scoops you up.

She basically dumps you with Vox. Trusting him to get you to stop bleeding and you to pull yourself together in the end.

She’s going on a hunt.

She comes back bloodied and with a mania in her eyes that is rarely seen.

You don’t leave her side for a while.

Vox

Vox has eyes everywhere.

He’s keeping one on you at all times.

He doesn’t need to find you even when you storm out because he always knows where you are.

You need time away from him? That’s fine. He’s watching you the entire time though.

You don’t even get the chance to start bleeding anything severe because as soon as you get nicked, he’s there.

The soul who dared to hurt you is electrocuted and fried before you even realize it’s Vox who entered the scene.

“Hot as it is watching you fight, I do hate to see you hurt.”

He stroked right beneath the place where you were cut, smearing the blood.

#vox x reader #hazbin vox x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor x reader #hazbin husk x reader #husk x reader #hazbin rosie x reader #rosie x reader #hazbin lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin lute x reader #lute x reader #hazbin vaggie x reader #vaggie x reader #hazbin hotel velvette x reader #hazbin hotel velvette

[rae-writes]

An Angel?

om demons x reader (+Simeon, Solomon, Mephi, Raph)

wc : 2.k

warnings : more simping bois, more humor, a lot more sprinkles of suggestive comments

synopsis : a deviltok trend has the boys on their knees for you, part two: electric boogaloo

a/n : for the record, Luke was in the room while Mc was making it, cheering them on, doing his cute little “Waahhh!” // idea brought to me by the lovely [your-next-daydream]​ // AND, as usual, let’s not talk about how ridiculously long this took me to finish ahaha rip me-

demon ver. 

<Simeon> Mc looks rather...heavenly, don’t you agree? 

[attachment sent] 

Intrigued, he wasted no time in clicking on the file, grinning when he realized it was one of your deviltoks. Decked out in your RAD uniform, you sat in a chair with your hands clasped together. 

“Who are you?” 

Smoothly, almost as if you were floating, you stood and took a few steps towards the camera with a rather shy smile. 

“An angel.” 

You bowed ever so slightly, flitting your gaze to the floor. 

“What’s your name?”

You spun suddenly, sending your red accessory swooshing in front of the camera, covering everything from view. 

“Michael.”

As fast as the transition happened, it ended; the view was cleared to reveal you— angelic down to a T and beautiful wasn’t even enough to describe you. 

You were adorned with sheer, white clothing that was loose and flowy, probably swaying due to a fan that was off camera. Light blue accents were scattered here and there- including an extension piece in your hair of the same color. Sparkling gold accessories glinted under the light, but not as much as the halo that hovered above your head. It was a gorgeous molten gold tint, partly transparent with glitter floating around inside (with a few cracks decorating the outside of it). It only brought attention to the snowy wings spanning out behind you, flecks of iridescent scattered amongst the feathers. 

[9 people saved a video attachment]

Lucifer

Ah. Yes. He’s not combusting on the inside, not at all. 

*insert internal screaming*

Ahem. Now that his jaw has been picked up off the floor, he is immediately wondering how the fuck Simeon of all people got access to the video before him

Don’t get him wrong though, he is on the way right now- leave the door open, Mc

He has to put his marks all over your body to get rid of the fact that you looked that pretty while using Michael’s name

Possessive urges aside, please keep the outfit on

Does not care if you’re dressed up like an Angel, he will gladly corrupt you

In fact, he wants to corrupt you- let him see that pact mark of his while you look so angelic, yeah?

might be into role playing it if you’d like

Mammon

Blinks a couple times before looking around slowly; poor boy really thought he’d been yeeted back to the celestial realm for a minute there

It’s all quiet before suddenly everyone in the house (and probably outside) hears “HOLY FUCK WHAT”

You never cease to amaze him, by the devils, is he in love 

The blush on his face- if he was anything other than a demon- would look severely concerning. Like no, it’s not a red beacon of light, it’s just him coming through the halls

Is creepin outside ya door practically on his knees. Please let him in. His greed is flared and you’re the only cure even if you’re also the reason

He is dying to have a diy photo shoot of the two of you in your angel fit

Step on him. Do it- it’s the perfect angle, the shot comes out beautifully and he is putting it right in his wallet once it’s developed 

Will step on you in return if you ask

You’ll let him kiss all over your body, wontcha, Mc? (he’ll even be gentle with his fangs when he nibbles around that golden necklace you’ve got on)

Levi

*cue his very nervous yet giddy laughter*

This is just like that anime he saw last week called ‘Help! My human s/o just turned into an Angel but I’m a demon and actually kind of into this?!” 

Seriously though, you look so beautiful, Levi was immediately down in the floor with his face covered and tail wagging 

Please allow 3-4 business months before he can recover 

Jk lol he’s hovering in your doorway before you you can even click on his contact

Shyly asks if he can touch your halo and wings (and ends up with his tail wrapped around you, knocking you side to side because it’s still attempting to wag) 

Unlike the eldest brother, Levi practically begs you to roleplay this with him and have a cosplay photoshoot 

Will shamelessly keep you to himself for the rest of the day and hiss at everyone who gets too close 

Please sit on him and call him mean names while also holding him sweetly 

Satan

Sign him tf up- he’s got a pen at the ready 

Irony aside, Satan thinks you look absolutely stunning— straight out of a fairy tale 

Irony not aside, Satan is actually so into this and craves to play it out with you

He was never an Angel to begin with, he was born a demon; just thinking about making your ivory wings turn black makes him excited 

Satan understands it’s just a simple spell you’ve casted so he won’t get too out of sorts (but if you like it, then what’s the harm?) 

Wants to read a forbidden love trope book and maybe act out some of the scenes while you’re still dressed like that 

The hopeless romantic in him is front and center the entire time

If you think he’s gonna let you go now, you’re sorely mistaken— let his brothers try and take you away 

He’s got tons of scenarios to act out if you can handle him 

Asmo

That weird high pitched sound you hear from across the house that should be something only dogs can hear? Yeah that’s Asmo squealing

Posting your video EVERYWHERE bc everyone needs to see how fucking gorgeous you look 

You can hear his footsteps from a mile away as he hurries to your room 

He MUST see your outfit in person ASAP

Azzy. Is. So. Fucking. Down. For. This. Shit. He thinks he’s dreamed about this once actually  

Please let him just examine every inch of you, he’s begging

Once again his camera is out and ready for a photoshoot and his demon form is out right alongside it 

He will be keeping you for the next 24-48 hours thanks

Beel

Choked. Again. 

Don’t be alarmed by the loud rumbling sound— it’s not Beel’s stomach for once, but instead a growl

He didn’t mean to make that sound but you just look so— and he just— and you— and and— A a a A A 

Has that cute little blush plastered over his face all. day. 

Might be tempted- or actually try- to take a bite out of your halo or something else ifykyk

Rewatches the video at least ten times because you're just. Wow. Wow. W O W. 

Is now in the mood to eat some celestial realm food with you 

though his appetite is half for food and half for you 

Pls don’t mind his staring or the way he’s probably drooling a bit, he can’t help it :(

Belphie 

“...wait, what?”

Lays there staring at the ceiling for a moment bc PHEW you got him sweating and he hasn’t even moved yet-

Manages a straight face all the way until he enters your room and sees the outfits in person

To which he is, once again, dropping right at your feet with a look of ‘PLEASE’

He needs a whole ass minute or two to catch his breath from how fucking gorgeous you look and then he needs another whole ass minute or two to scan you over again

Please sit on him

Is uncharacteristically stuttering through every sentence— how can he possibly concentrate on stupid words in these [amazing] conditions?!

Gatekeeping you AGAIN

Underneath you the entire. time. 

Barbatos

*windows shutdown* 

*windows restart*

…aaand we’re back ladies and gentlemen and every cool dude in between but Barbatos is still fucking astonished— absolutely flabbergasted at how badly he’s got it for you

He dropped everything he was carrying in that moment and swiftly picked it back up, hoping no one saw

Diavolo saw. He recorded the entire thing and sent it to you, zooming in on Barbatos’ blush

There’s just something primal in him that makes him want to sink his teeth into you and coil his tail around your body so that you won’t be able to go anywhere else until he lets you

Everyone be damned, Barb will be having you to himself for the entire night

Will also run his fingers along the faux wings and halo before he absolutely ruins you until the magic dissipates

He is…totally normal about the entire thing..

Diavolo

His father help him— Diavolo is so incredibly thankful for the exchange program

Is OUT of the castle at mach speed before Barbatos can even say otherwise

And then he’s speeding right back and summoning you to him instead so he can have you to himself

Mans is kneeling at your fucking feet the second he lays eyes on you

And while it isn’t ‘proper’ for someone who wants unity between all three realms to want to corrupt you— 

—he does. So badly. He thinks he might even beg you for it 

Also wants to take a picture of the two of you with him in his demon form (it’s the it picture for weeks after he posts it)

Cannot stop looking at your halo; please let him touch it

(If you slowly begin altering your wings to bleed black, he’s practically foaming at the mouth—) 

bonus: 

Simeon

*sharp inhale* . . . *yeets halo*

He deadass forgets he’s an Angel himself for a few minutes bc he’s too busy simping fawning over you 

God who?? Like get tf outta the way, beep beep, archangel on a mission comin through 

Is begging as soon as he steps foot through your door. Please, please let him touch you and explore— he should be ashamed with how unabashed he is but fuck look at you 

Will let his own wings out just so you can compare your angels forms (melted on the spot when you brushed your wings against his)

Honestly can’t decide if he wants you to corrupt him or if he wants to corrupt you…or both at the same time

He’s not sharing you. Not now. Not like this. 

You may look like an angel, and he may be an angel, but he won’t treat you like one tonight 

If you do the fancy trick of letting your wings turn black, he’s completely bowing down to whatever you wish right then and there 

Solomon

Kinda forgot he was immortal for a split second and wondered if he’d either died or accidentally traveled to the celestial realm

Gains his bearings rather quickly, but the hold you have on him is still very much there

And he’d like you to have a hold around his throat— what? Who said that??

His pretty little blush where he averts his eyes all nervously? YEAH THAT

He’s taken aback for a couple moments before his usual shit eating grin comes back but that blush? Still there. 

Backs you against a wall, in a corner, and let’s his hands roam with a small laugh, quietly asking how you manage to make him lose composure so easily 

Is so soft and sweet for a minute before his eyes darken and that SEXY smirk crawls onto his face

Plucks that halo right from above your head and tosses it behind his shoulder because how could he possibly do what he has planned if you’re an angel?

Makes your wings bloom black himself (and challenges how long you can handle him)

extra little bonus: 

Mephisto 

Simply raises a brow and wonders why the hell his body got so hot all the sudden 

Ignores the video for a couple hours until he realizes he can’t stop fucking thinking about it 

Promptly decides he’s going to go straight to you and demand how dare you invade his thoughts like this 

And then promptly decides he’d rather just revert to using his hands instead when the sight of you makes his mouth dry and water at the same time

Will take it upon himself, right then, to corrupt you

Because there’s no way in the seven rings of hell he’s letting you switch sides and he’ll break the magic you’re using as proof

After though *cough cough* he will bashfully tell you how gorgeous you looked…

Raphael

Let me tell you, mans was not ready 

Like if you’ve seen the video of the person with a stacked ass on the stretcher being carried by and the news reporter’s face afterwards, that’s Raphael. 

Luke takes a picture of his expression and makes a meme

Won’t address it until the very next day, stiffly telling you that your outfit was very pleasing to the eye (he thinks you’re drop dead gorgeous, okay, he’s just struggling)

If you offer to show him in person, he is ascending right back home. Won’t deny, though. Like please do. 

In awe for the whole experience 

And blushes an alluring deep shade if you show him some ‘corruption’ tricks you have up your sleeve

#obey me x reader #om x reader #lucifer x reader #om lucifer #mammon x reader #om mammon #leviathan x reader #om levi #satan x reader #om satan #asmo x reader #om asmo #beel x reader #om beel #belphie x reader #om belphie #simeon x reader #om simeon #solomon x reader #om solomon #mephisto x reader #om mephisto #om raphael #om raphael x reader

[emeraldbloodcrown]

i'm thinking of an alpha 141, with price and simon being you stereotypical alphas, while johnny and kyle might be mistaken for betas - until you piss them off and then even price and simon struggle to hold them back.

they're all alphas but they're also all part of the same pack, which wasn't planned by either of them but it's not unheard of for that to happen in a task force as close knit as the 141. it's their bread and butter to go into the most dangerous situations, to protect one another, to take bullets or knifes for the others; they're the only ones who can actually understand the depth of the trauma each of them is going through.

of course they'd bond together and form a pack. but they're all also alphas. alphas with a desperate wish to mate and breed, and they can't do that with each other, they need an omega for that. but an omega who not only accepts and respects their weird pack dynamic but actively wants that? unheard of, chances so slim they were non-existent.

but so were the chances of simon crawling out of that grave or johnny recovering from that shot to the head.

and they did find one, someone who loved all four of them, someone who wanted to be their mate and give them a child. a beautiful little girl, who somehow seemed to share all of their appearances. and it was perfect.

until it wasn't. until these alphas had to gravel with the situation that their omega was gone, mating bond ripped apart, and their little girl screaming her lungs out. so used to the omega's scent, which after months of trying their best was now fully gone, that it put her in severe distress for weeks on end, leaving not only her but her fathers restless.

and then there's you, their newly moved in neighbor, they only knew their name from their landlord when they came back from their latest mission, knocking and looking just as stressed as them.

price had opened the door for you, chest puffed and ready to tear you apart for coming at his pack but you were calm..exhausted beyond belief, of course, but understanding and most of all concerned for their girl..

"all that screaming can't be healthy for her either"

you had a small container with you, a remedy from your great-grandmother, all herbal so as not to offend her nose, that needs to be rubbed into her chest before bed.

"i'll just leave it here, maybe it helps"

johnny, always the perceptive one, will forever remember how you smiled sadly at their daughter, how your fingers seemed to itch towards her before you remembered your place and just left.

they would soon find out that you were an utter blessing, kind to the bone and so unbelievably considerate. the ointment worked wonders and for the first time in over a month, they saw their daughter smile again and each other finally relax.

and from that point on, johnny was gone, absolutely enamored by you and always jumping at the chance to invite you into their circles, knowing full well the others were much more hesitant, the pain and trauma from their omega abandoning them still stiff in their bones.

but they'd see what he already saw, and it was like you wanted to prove him right when you found out about what happened to their omega, to the one among them that should be bonded the closest to their little girl but was still able to just leave.

you clenched your fingers so tight he was almost afraid you'd break something, the muscles in your neck tightened and you downright snarled, nostrils flared and lip pulled back.

"is...is that normal? her screaming like that for weeks on end? is that likely to happen with something like this?"

the air in the room tensed, charged, similar to before a storm, and it answered all of their suspicion, when they gave you the answer that yes, it was normal - and it audibly cracked around you, like thunder striking, and you had to take a deep breath, mumbling in an old language to let your environment not be influenced by your emotions, lest you hurt or scare any of them.

"you're a witch"

and damn, it should terrify him, witches and shifters don't mix well but all he can think of is that he was right, you were perfect for them, your protectiveness of their daughter only outmatched by them, and if johnny hadn't already made up his mind, hadn't already talked it through with his pack, this would definitely solidify it:

witch or not, you were theirs and mark or not, they'd never let you leave again.

#crown mumbles #i have a distinct idea with this #can you see it?? #cod mw2 #cod x reader #141 x reader #poly 141 #john price #john price x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #johnny mactavish #johnny mactavish x reader #kyle garrick #kyle garrick x reader

[nunalastor]

Radio Apple Headcanon:

Alastor baits Lucifer into going to the other Rings to catch up with the other Sins. He's doing it to get him out of a depressive funk, and because it doesn't seem to work, forgets about it.

About a week or two later, when everyone is starting to get very concerned because the King has been MIA for most of that time, Lucifer shows up holding several dozen pages of notes, which he proudly presents to Alastor.

They're notes about what's happening in the other Rings, for Alastor to talk about during his broadcast. Notes about events that literally no other sinner could get, because they don't have connections out side of the Pride Ring that can get the news to them fast enough.

Alastor is stunned and touched. He also holds it over everyone else's head that he has a mysterious connection that can do that. Lucifer going to the other rings as a scout for Al becomes a common occurrence.

👀

#hazbin hotel #alastor #radioapple #appleradio #radio apple #apple radio #lucifer morningstar #nunalastor asks #headcanon

[roosterforme]

The Younger Kind Part 58 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley is hesitant to drive his family to Disneyland, and he's even more hesitant to make love to you. All he seems to be able to think about is the baby and his desire to plan the perfect, low-key wedding, but you make sure he takes some time to relax.

Warnings: pregnancy topics, swearing, smut, angst, fluff, and age gap (18+)

Length: 3700 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

Bradley couldn't ever remember being this stressed out in his life. Well, besides every single time he had to deal with Meredith. The weeks had absolutely flown by, probably because he was not so secretly dreading driving up to Disneyland for Thanksgiving weekend. He'd voiced his opinions and concerns several times, but apparently your doctor's answer overrode his. Disneyland was happening, and the only thing he'd been able to insist upon for his own peace of mind was the addition of Nat.

Thanksgiving dinner at Mav and Penny's had been relaxing and peaceful. Bradley hadn't been home for the holiday the past two years, and it felt good to have a day to just appreciate everyone around him. Having you there made all the difference, and he knew he wanted you with him for every holiday from now on. You tried to help Penny cook and clean up, but everyone else insisted you rest and just enjoy yourself.

That was just a few hours ago, and now the sun had set, and Noah was in his pajamas. Bradley buckled him in the backseat of the Bronco before checking to make sure all of the bags made their way in as well. That's when he heard the argument coming from the sidewalk. 

"You can sit in the front," you insisted. "I don't mind sitting in the back with Noah."

"No, no," Nat replied, "I insist. I'll sit in the back so you can sit with Bradley."

"But I kind of want to sit with Noah," you told her. "You can sit with Bradley and talk about work."

"Or," Nat replied, "you and he can hammer out some of the wedding details while you sit in the front with him."

"Are you both serious right now?" Bradley asked as he slammed the tailgate shut. "Neither of you want to sit with me?"

He held his arms out to his sides, and you rushed over to give him a hug with a little smirk on your face. "I'm sorry, Daddy," you whispered, pressing your cheek to his chest and giving him a hug. "It's just that Noah is so sweet, and he'd probably hold my hand until he falls asleep."

Nat used this opportunity to get herself situated next to Noah with a bright smile on her face. "You know, I expect this kind of thing from her, but not from you, Princess," Bradley said before kissing the top of your head. "Get in the front and hold my hand instead?"

Thirty minutes later, Bradley was driving up the highway, and he was the only one awake as your hand rested softly in his. He stroked your knuckles and your ring as he wove along the roads on the way up to Anaheim. "I can't believe what you've done to my life," he whispered, shaking his head but smiling. At the beginning of the year, he'd been stressed out pretty much all the time. He would have never planned a trip to Disneyland just for him and Noah, because every day felt impossible back then. If he was honest with himself, every day still felt challenging now with Noah getting older and the baby on the way, but nothing was ever harder because of you. It was always better.

He heard rustling in the backseat, and when he glanced in his mirror, he saw that Nat was awake. "Javy texted me," she said with a yawn when she met his eyes. "He said your dog is a pussy magnet."

Bradley snorted. "Let me guess. He took her for a walk and women came out of the woodwork to talk to him?"

She hummed and said, "Maybe leaving Skittles with him for the weekend was a bad idea."

"Nah," Bradley replied, stifling his laughter. "I'm sure he told them that he already has a really mean girlfriend and that she would kick their asses if they looked at him too long."

She leaned forward and smacked the back of his head. "I'm not mean."

"Sure, Nat."

"Hey, I did the impossible by finding you a wife. That's nice person shit right there."

"Yet with the undertone of condescension," Bradley replied, making her laugh. "I do owe you though. And you won't even let me say thank you."

This time she patted him gently on the back of his head. "You can say it one time."

"Thanks, Nat."

----------------------------

You vaguely remembered half walking and half being carried up to the hotel room in your state of exhaustion. Thanksgiving had taken more out of you than you thought considering you barely did anything to help Mav and Penny with dinner or dessert. But apparently the turkey made you sleepy. Everything was making you sleepy now. But you were finally past the progesterone shots, and your doctor said everything was looking good.

Friday morning when you woke up as the sun just started peeking in through the window, you jolted up in bed naked. Bradley was still asleep next to you, snoring softly, but you looked around the room a bit frantically. "Daddy," you gasped, shaking him awake. "Bradley! Where's Noah?"

He rolled onto his back and looked up at you through barely cracked open eyes. "Princess?" he rasped, simply reaching for you and trying to pull you back against him. But the other bed was empty, and your heart wouldn't calm down.

"Where's Noah?" you repeated, and now he started to sit up.

"Next door," he mumbled. "He's in the other room with Nat, Baby."

You placed your hand over your heart and eased yourself back down onto the pillow as you whispered, "Right. Right. Sorry, I just barely remember you even bringing me to the room last night."

"Don't apologize," he murmured next to your ear as he pulled you closer to him. "You're the best Mommy." His face was pressed against your neck and shoulder, and his arm was like a boa constrictor, tightening little by little until around your ribs until you were snug against him. You felt protected and loved as the sound of his steady breathing calmed you down. But he had morning wood, and you could feel Bradley's erection firm and long against the back of your thigh as he spooned you. 

It had literally been months since you felt his cock thrusting inside you. You and he hadn't had vaginal intercourse since before he left for his special flight mission in Japan, and now you were aching painfully. Sure, you'd had fun getting him off with your hands, mouth and breasts for the last four weeks, and he'd been very generous with his lips, mustache and fingers. But you wanted him to fill you up. 

"Bradley," you whispered, trying to figure out if he'd fallen back to sleep again behind you, but when he grunted your first name, you moaned. He bucked against you even though you knew he was trying not to. "My doctor said it's okay now."

His rough thumb was stroking your nipple as he rasped, "I know, but maybe we shouldn't risk it. I can wait until after the baby is born."

An absolutely scandalized noise escaped you. "I love you for that, Daddy, I really do, but I don't think I can make it five more months."

"I'll go down on you," he said, letting his hand skim along your growing belly until he was cupping your pussy. "Happily." But you were pinned between his rock hard cock and his hand, and you knew exactly what you needed.

"I want your cock," you demanded. "It's perfectly safe for the baby now that my uterus is fixed up. And I want it."

Rarely did you ever tell him that you wanted something, and you almost never whined, but the combination of the two seemed to set him off a little bit. He was twitching and pulsing against your leg, and you felt him reach down to free himself from the confines of his underwear. Skin on skin was enough to make you whine his name a little louder. When you eased your leg up and back over his hip, you could feel the tip of him rubbing against your wet pussy.

"Take me just like this. Nice and slow from behind," you whispered, and his only response was a long string of obscenities as he pushed his cock just an inch or so inside you. 

"Baby," he ground out as his hand squeezed your hip. "Slow. Real slow. I don't want to hurt either of you."

You gasped, "You won't," as he slid himself deeper and deeper before eventually bottoming out with his hips pressed to your butt. "Oh god, you feel so good."

Bradley kept himself still, just like that, barely moving but filling you up regardless. "Shit," he whimpered next to your ear. "Fuck, it's been months." His voice was so rough, and his hot breath left goosebumps trailing down you back and arm. When you wiggled back against him, he grunted. "I'm not gonna last."

"I don't care," you told him, guiding his rough fingers to your clit and enjoying every sensation his body gave you. He smelled good, and he was warm and strong and big. Big everywhere. His lips found the spot right behind your ear, and he sucked gently. Your nipples were tender peaks, and your belly was just starting to show proof of your pregnancy. There was evidence of those days of rough sex from the summer all over your body, but right now he was gentler than ever.

"Am I hurting you?" he whispered before taking your earlobe between his lips. His thrusts were smooth and languid, and you could feel every bit of him.

"No. You're perfect." That had his fingers working a little more frantically on your clit, but he kept the same pace with his thrusts. Slow and steady and never rough. 

But he got you there. "Baby," he whined, punching and plucking until you were sure your clit was a tight little ball of nerves against his fingertips. You started to squeeze around him, and he held still, more filthy cursing filling your ears as he spilled his cum inside you.

"Oh. Daddy," you moaned softly as you came in his embrace with his body pressed to your back. You couldn't stop yourself from bumping back against him as you fucked yourself gently along his cock, enjoying every little tremor and tremble.

"Tell me I didn't hurt you," he whispered, easing his wet fingers up along your belly, cupping where you imagined the baby was right now. "Please."

You turned to look at his earnest eyes over your shoulder and said, "You didn't hurt me."

"I love you, Princess." A series of soft knocks made you jump in his arms, and Bradley groaned as the knocking continued. He was still inside you as he said, "That's gotta be Noah."

You realized there was a door conjoining the next room with yours, and you could hear Noah's little voice calling out. "Daddy? Mommy? I want to meet Mickey Mouse."

With one more kiss to your shoulder, Bradley withdrew himself from your body, inspected his cock and then pulled his underwear back up. "Go make sure you're okay," he commanded as he stood. "I'll take care of Noah."

Carefully, still blissfully aware of the way that orgasm left your skin tingling, you made your way into the bathroom as Bradley's cum dribbled down your inner thighs. You cleaned yourself up, and there was no sign of blood at all. You took a quick shower, and you felt amazing. When you eventually emerged from the bathroom all wrapped up in your towel, you found your boys both dressed and ready to go and sitting on the edge of the unused bed.

"Mommy," Noah whined. "I'm hungry and I want to meet Mickey Mouse."

You bent and kissed his soft curls as you said, "Well take care of both of those things for you. Promise."

----------------------------

Disneyland was simultaneously the most wonderful and most anxiety inducing place Bradley had ever been. The look on Noah's face as the four of you explored the parks together made Bradley smile, but every time you started to look tired, he wasn't sure it was worth it. But then you'd smile at him, too. He'd give you anything you wanted.

"Are you okay?" he asked, collecting you in his arms as Nat rode the teacups with Noah for the third time in a row. "You sure I didn't hurt you this morning?"

A little smile curled along your glossy lips before you kissed him softly. Then you kissed him again and again. It was bad enough that you looked so much younger than him; he got a few raised eyebrows here and there. But then you always called him Daddy with absolutely no shame whatsoever. It always got under his skin and made him run a little hot, but now you had your belly pressed against him as you kissed your way back close to his ear.

"Daddy," you crooned. "You didn't hurt me one bit. You gave me exactly what I needed. Your big cock."

"Baby," he whispered, squeezing your hips in warning. "Don't get us kicked out of the happiest place on Earth."

You laughed and wrapped your arms around his neck. "You know what would make it even happier?"

"Don't say it," he rasped, shaking his head as you looked up at him. "I'm begging."

You just smirked. "Sneaking off to that family bathroom..."

Bradley tipped his head back and groaned while you giggled. "You said it."

Finally having sex again in the hotel room this morning before Noah practically kicked down the door in search of breakfast seemed to make you extra clingy. Not that Bradley minded one bit. He didn't. He loved it. But you had been alone when you had to go to the emergency room last month, and he was still on edge about everything that happened when he was in Japan. 

When you started tugging on his arm, he shook his head again. "No. Not here. Only where I can be as gentle with you as possible."

Then you were in his arms again telling him how sweet he was, and Bradley was just a lost cause. 

"I'm tapping out," Nat announced as she and Noah walked over hand in hand. "That ride is okay the first two times, but after that, it's evil."

"I loved it!" Noah announced as Bradley picked him up. 

"Of course you did," he said, kissing his son's cheek. "What do you want to do now? Another ride? Get a snack?"

"Meet Mickey Mouse!"

Bradley groaned for an entirely different reason. The line to meet the characters was pretty long, but you'd insisted on buying something called an autograph book, so he said, "Sure, Bub. We can go meet the main mouse."

Bradley held hands with both you and Noah while Nat led the way, talking with her hands and bouncing like she was Tigger to make Noah giggle. Bradley was right, the line was long, but it was worth it. Noah didn't complain about how much time it was taking, but he did ask you to pick him up over and over again.

"Let me hold you," Nat offered, but Noah kept reaching for you instead. When Bradley told him he was too heavy, tears filled his eyes and his face scrunched up.

"Sweet Noah," you whispered, kissing his cheek and kind of cuddling up with him while he was in Bradley's arms. "Don't cry. I'm right here. I'm just not allowed to lift things like big, growing boys who love dinosaurs and coloring books, okay?" You wiped at his tears with your thumbs, and Bradley was once again mesmerized by you. "That's better," you told him. "I don't want you to cry right before we get to meet Mickey Mouse."

Noah sniffled and nodded, and you didn't move away from his as the line moved up. "You're amazing," Bradley whispered. "Mommy of the year."

"There he is!" Nat gasped, perhaps more excited than all of the kids in the line put together. "Mickey! And I'm not talking about Fanboy!"

Bradley chuckled as the Mouse beckoned them forward to take photos. 

------------------------

"How about we ride something else?" Bradley asked, but you watched Noah tug him back toward It's a Small World. 

"This is my favorite!"

"Noah," he laughed, "you've said that about every single ride all day long."

"No, this one," Noah insisted.

"Just one more time?" you asked, also tugging on Bradley.

"We've been on it seven times in a row," he insisted, shaking his head.

"Six times," Nat replied, pushing him from behind. 

"Natasha, the song is going to kill me," he said, taking a few steps toward the line queue again. "I'll never be able to get it out of my head."

But the three of you won, of course. Because he was willing to do anything that you and Noah wanted. And that included riding a boat past legions of slightly creepy, singing, animatronic children. "You'll be fine," you insisted, rubbing his abs. "After this, we'll feed you dinner."

"You better," he mumbled, winking at you. "And I need more Mickey shaped snacks, too."

To your delight and Noah's, Bradley willingly rode It's a Small World three more times and sang the song nearly the whole time. "I'm going to annoy you with this forever," he whispered in your ear as the little boat sailed along. 

You looked up at him and said, "Please do. That means you'll be around forever."

His eyes widened in soft surprise. "I'm not going anywhere." You felt his thumb run across your engagement ring where he was holding your hand in his lap. "Just a couple more weeks and we'll be married."

The fact that he was taking care of most of the planning without showing any signs of stress was amazing to you. As the song played on repeat and the dancing animatronics spun around, you tapped your foot. "You really want to get married so soon?" you asked him. 

"Hell yes. I already told you I did."

"Even if it's just a backyard wedding?"

Bradley gave you all of his focus like you were the only thing in his world when he said, "All we really need is both of us and Noah for it to be perfect."

"Technically we also need Natasha," you added, and he rolled his eyes.

"Fine. We also need Natasha. But that's only because she got ordained online. Other than that, I don't really care about the details too much. I just want to see you in a wedding dress."

You bit your lip and moaned. "Nothing fits me great right now. And I feel like my belly is really going to pop out one day soon."

"I can't wait," he grunted, making you shiver at the tone of his voice. "Jesus, I hope your belly gets bigger in the next three weeks."

His lips found your neck, and this time you were the one who had to remind him that you were very much in the middle of Disneyland sharing a seat in the boat with Nat and Noah. But now you had a better idea of what kind of dress you should get; you'd been holding off, hoping to figure out how to get one that would still fit for the big day. 

"So you want to be able to see the bump in the wedding photos?"

"Princess," he grunted. "God, yes. But don't you dare make me hard on It's a Small World."

You were still laughing as the boat floated up to the exit and you climbed out.

-----------------------

"Stop," you and Nat whined in unison as Bradley started singing the Small World song again on the drive back to San Diego on Sunday. But he just smiled and finished, dodging away from your hand as you tried to cover his mouth from the passenger seat. This time, he saw you and Nat playing rock, paper, scissors to see who got to sit in the back with Noah. Your rock lost to her paper, so you were in the front with him. 

"This is your punishment for being mean," he said as Noah napped. "And I'm talking to both of you."

"I'm just happy that you loved Disneyland," you said over his singing. You were looking at wedding dresses on your phone and holding the selections up for Nat to look at. Bradley had to fight to keep his eyes on the road instead of the screen, but he honestly did want to be surprised. 

"Hey, what am I supposed to wear?" he asked, realizing that you'd seen him in most of his nicer clothes when he was leaving you at home with Noah to go on app dates. He'd have to buy something new, something just for you. Something to make the day special.

"Doesn't matter," Nat said followed by a low whistle as she held your phone. "Nobody will even notice you if your wife is wearing this dress. Holy shit."

Bradley glanced in the rear view mirror to make sure Noah was still asleep. "It's that good?" he asked as you looked a little bashful next to him. "Buy it. Put it on your princess card."

"It has two-day shipping," Nat said. "If you don't like it, we can go out and look at some other options on Wednesday after work."

"I don't know..." you said, hesitating as you took your phone back and looked at whichever dress Nat thought was perfect. 

"Buy it, Baby, or I won't shut up for the next hour." Bradley cleared his throat and started singing, "It's a world of laughter, a world of tears. It's a world of hopes, and a world of fears."

"Fine!" you said, scrambling with your phone as Nat covered her ears. "I'm buying it!"

Bradley smiled at the road before him and muttered, "Gotta love Disney."

-----------------------

If you have Princess wedding dress inspo (that will show off her little bump just like Bradley is hoping) please send it to me! I'm thinking we will end up with 62 parts for this story, which is absolutely wild to me. Thanks for reading! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 59

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#bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster fanfiction #rooster imagine #rooster x reader #rooster x you #bradley rooster bradshaw imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagine #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #roosterforme #the younger kind

[tiredmamaissy]

Ralak te Sepwan ieyk’itan: Special Episode II 

Concurrent Tides

An Illustrated Collaboration with @zestys-stuff

Masterlist ; Rut/Heat/Knotting Info

🔞 minors, do not interact 🔞

Hyperlinks are attached to specific paragraphs that when clicked on will lead you to its illustration by Ralak's creator @zestys-stuff. Most illustrations are now on her patreon.

Characters: Metkayina!Ralak (24) x Sully!Omaticaya!Reader (19) Warnings: nsfw, smut, fluff, profanity, age gap, aggressive rut cycle, heat cycle, dom/sub dynamics, jealousy/posessiveness, knotting, marking, scenting, praise kink, breeding kink, size difference, p in v, mating/bonding, multiple climaxes, creampie, ralak is a bit of a meanie in this, let me know if I forgot anything? Word Count: 10k Requested: Yes || No Author’s Note: the second special episode is finally here. sorry it took forever to get it out, but better late than never :') i hope you guys enjoy <3 theres another part to come after this one! 🤍 Synopsis: what happens if you and your new mates cycles sync? 

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——

“Only I knot you.”

That was the first time you’d ever seen Ralaks eyes shift in colour. That same night right after he pulled you out of his memory of his first rut. A beautiful, deep blue, glistening before your honey glazed orbs. It’s barely been a week since that night, yet it replays over and over. Day and night. How he looked at you with nothing but unadulterated greed, hardly catching his breath as he tried to steady his galloping heart. It was something deep-rooted and primal. 

Something animalistic. 

Since, you’ve longed to see him fully immersed in such a state. A state where self control and sexual desire no longer coexist. He’s always too concerned with you and what he thinks you can and cannot manage that he never allows himself to do what he truly wants. The level of restraint you feel through the bond is indescribable. A level you nor any other na’vi could conceivably attain. Regardless, most nights you find yourself fantasizing about this ‘lack of control’ right before bed. 

Nights like tonight. 

Where the stars shimmer so brightly that you need to draw the curtains, and the air is exceptionally cold and crisp that you need to huddle closely together for warmth. When your nose is buried so deep into his chest that there's no other choice for his scent to fill your lungs. And tonight he smells extraordinarily good. The salt of the sea mixed with leather hide. And oddly enough, he smells like… home. The forest and its greenery. It’s quite ironic but perhaps it’s Eywa’s way of saying that this man is truly yours. It's so comforting and right. Like a cup of hot tea on a stormy night, never failing to put you to sleep. A remedy that works in seconds — but not tonight. 

Tonight you’re restless and he can sense it. 

“What is it?” Ralak husks, shifting his position to hold you a little closer. “Cold?” 

Truthfully, you’ve been feeling a little off. Your body has been restless and haunted. As if it could sense some sort of change of shift in the atmosphere. Or perhaps it was between the two of you. “No.” You mumble, lifting your head to look up at him. “Just can’t sleep.”

Ralaks ears twitch, a little surprised his typical soothing techniques aren’t working. He sits up quite quickly, bringing you up with him as he scoots back into frame of his bed. His brows lower when he ponders about what could be keeping you so on edge. He takes note of your flushed appearance and the minute changes in your eyes, they’re glowing a little brighter recently. 

His brows jump when the realisation dawns on him. 

Could it be? He knows it’s close but is it really already affecting you? How is that possible? And does that mean it will be even more severe this time around? 

He had every intention to stay but perhaps it’ll be more difficult than he expected. He should really tell you, but he knows exactly how that would play out. You would get your way as per usual, it was hard for him to deny you of anything you wanted. A quick swish of your tail and it was yours. Ralak took pride in caring and providing for you. But not for this. This was just plain dangerous. And therefore he couldn’t allow you to figure it out. It’s ultimately safer that he keeps it to himself, at least until you’ve adjusted to him a little more. Your intimate moments together are very few in number after all. 

“Why is that, tanhì?” He asks in a low, steady tone, fixing his mask of indifference tightly to his face. 

You may be a slow learner, but you weren’t slow. You could sense that he wasn’t being all that transparent with you. 

“I don’t know. Something feels off about you.” You say in an almost accusatory tone, finally sitting up to look him in the eye. He’s pale in the face and his breath becomes raggedy. “Tell me, Ralak.” 

You watch as his pupils constrict, leaving nothing but a black dot in an open sea of blue. Within a matter of seconds, they deepen in colour and his eyelids flutter shut. He clears his throat, and waits a few seconds to open his eyes. They’re back to normal but you could’ve sworn they looked different. Just like they did a few nights ago. 

“What just happened to your—” Your heart begins to race as you utter the words, only to be cut off by Ralaks hasty voice. 

“Inland. Tomorrow morning. Overnight hunting trip.” He grinds them out as if it physically hurts to say the words. Anything to keep you from figuring it out. 

What? Is he — lying to you? 

This isn’t like him. He avoided trips inland at all costs. Anything to stay with his tanhí. He’d even go as far as faking an illness, despite rarely getting ill, to get out of accompanying Tonowari. Especially for overnight trips. 

“And why did you not tell me earlier?” You manage to squeak out a closing throat, backing away to create a little distance.

He shakes his head as he blinks rapidly, staying put to allow as much space as you need. “I was hoping I did not need to go.” He utters, dropping his head to lock his gaze on your twiddling thumbs. His eyes trail up your dark blue frame, taking note of how your body is already almost trembling —already responding to him— all out of your control. He bows his head, hiding his face. “But it seems that I cannot get out of this one. I am sorry, my paysyul.” 

For a fleeting moment, you really thought this was the beginning of something bad. Something deceitful. But, his words instantly bring you comfort, slowing your leaping heart and putting your mind at ease. 

But the funny thing is that there was no lie. 

There was really an overnight trip inland with Tonowari. One that Ralak arranged himself. Tonowari was especially taken aback by Ralaks suggestion of a hunting trip and immediately queried if he was alright, putting a firm hand on his forehead to determine if he had some sort of fever. But once Ralak explained himself, Tonowari was smiling and laughing, smacking a few blows on his back as a form of approval, teasing him yet again about ‘the love story between an Akula and an ilu’. 

Your sigh brings Ralak out of his deep thought, chin leaving his chest to witness you sliding back into bed, turning on your side and backing up onto him. A smirk pulls at the his lips as he joins you, enveloping you in his warmth once more. A wave of relief washes over him as he rests his chin on the crown of your head. He’s thankful that you didn’t press any further. Otherwise, he would’ve had to reveal his best kept secret. 

His upcoming rut. 

—— 

The harsh thump of Ralaks heart rouses him to the sight of his mate clung to his chest. He admires your beauty, allowing his eyes to fall on your chest, watching closely as you breathe slowly. He gently pulls back the thin sheeting covering your body, exposing your puffy nipples to the cool morning air. When they stiffen into peaks, saliva pools in his mouth. At this point he would have looked away because of basic na’vi decency, but this morning is different. 

He allows himself to stare. To take in every detail on your chest. To sear it into his memory so he can visualise you just like this as he relieves himself. Exposed before his eyes, supple skin glistening as the rays of sunlight reflect against your freckles, exposed, stiffened nipples, that act as the perfect bait to lure in a hungry predator. 

Predator.

That’s what he’ll be in a matter of minutes. Nothing but a slave to his own urges and instincts. Ravenous. Insatiable. Voracious. With not even a sliver of self composure left to hold onto an ounce of rationality. He can already feel it creeping up on him, the hunger deep in his core turning him into the beast that he appears to be on the outside. It’s always been like this. A little too much. Too overwhelming. 

Too aggressive. 

And as the years passed it only worsened. Six unmated years. With no one but himself to make it through the tortuous few days. He just knows that he would be too rough with you. It’s his biggest fear, after all. To have no self control. To hurt the one thing he loves more than Eywa’s gift of life itself. He would sacrifice his own (life) if it meant to save yours.

He was hoping to endure it. Bite his tongue through it and be by your side. Perhaps take a long bath in the lake and crawl into bed after you’ve gone to sleep and relieve himself as quietly as he can. But now that it’s here in full bloom, he’s already having a hard time containing his urge to spread your legs and use you as his own personal fucktoy. 

But you’re more than that to him. 

And this is why he’s choosing to leave before you wake. Before he can no longer contain himself to just staring at your bare chest. Before he pulls the sheet down even further and parts your legs—already trembling from his leaking pheromones—and has a taste of his sweet, sweet tanhí. Rather, he uses his last shred of self composure to plant a firm kiss on your forehead before quickly gathering his gear and heading out the door. 

Unbeknownst to him, you were awake the entire time. 

You could feel his eyes bore into your tiny frame as the crisp morning air grazed past your nipples, just like you could feel the roughness of his kiss right above your brow. You wanted to open your eyes but the way his pheromones waft up your nose had you in a foggy trance. Your eyes burned under your eyelids and your body felt so heavy and hot. 

You couldn’t help but think, is this his rut?

To be influenced by his cycle? You had felt it before. His first rut in the flashback, but it was nothing like this. Sure, it had you shivering and a little on edge but this was to another level. You could barely open your eyes, much less get out of bed. This entire time your body has been sending warning signals that its mate was peaking in his cycle — restlessness, clinginess, the nesting. You had unknowingly gathered enough fruits and grains to last you a few days. Even in this murky state of mind you finally manage to link the pieces of the puzzle together. 

Listening to his footsteps as he walks out the marui, you muster up as much strength as you can to open your eyes. It’s blurry and honestly all just one blob. You could only make out a few colours trailing behind this gentle giant—green, blue and orange. All of which mix together and move like the aurora in the night sky. If one could see what a pheromone looks like, this would be it. When you finally get enough strength to part your chapped lips to mutter his name, the colours disappear as the marui flap closes behind him. 

You really thought that once he left and the room aired out, that the influence of his pheromones on your body would lift as well. But you were wrong. Instead, the heaviness of your body grew tenfold, making it hard to breathe. It’s as if your lungs were filled to the brim with cold water, yet they burned as you squirmed around to fill them with air. The fire in your lungs quickly spread to your extremities, leaving your entire being in a sweltering inferno. 

This feeling is familiar, yet foreign all at once. A desire so extreme it burns from within. The desire to be connected with your mate on all levels known to the na’vi. To satiate the itch of your empty, fertile womb by filling it with his seed. 

Why did you have to get your heat now?

You call for Ralak a few times in your dazed state, only for you to be reminded by nothing but the crash of the waves that he’s gone. Soon the heavy rumble of the waves is drowned out by your whimpers and whines as you call for your mate to no avail. All you can manage to do in your feverish haze is kick off whatever cloth is stuck to your body, curl into a ball and rock to ease the unbearable sensation between your legs.

All until you hear a familiar, husky voice. 

“I was doing some sessions with Ronal and—”

“R-Ralak?” You call out in relief, hoping your prayers have finally been answered. You roll onto your side and squint at the figure in the door frame. 

“Uh. Not quite.” He quickly mutters under his breath, moving his forearm to shield his nose from your strong pheromones wafting his way. “Eywa—” He mumbles the great mothers name like a curse as he looks around the marui for your mate. “Where is Tak?” 

Tak?

The more you squint your eyes, the more you’re able to make out who this figure standing in your doorway is. Your blurred vision clears just enough to reveal the unforgettable, brawny features of no other than Ka’ani. 

“Ka’ani?” You say the name slowly, unsure if you should believe your eyes. 

“Hah. What do you know…” Ka’ani scoffs, moving his arm from his face to lean in to get a better look at your condition. You’re panting yet shivering, glazed in your own sweat and slick. He smirks a little as he pulls back, spitting out the words, “…bitch in heat.” 

“What are you... d-doing here? You should leave!” You try to shout, although it comes out more as a hoarse cry. 

“Why should I? It looks like you need a hand.” Ka’ani jesters, physically extending his hand towards you as he wiggles his thickset fingers. 

“Haa. I really don’t.” You pant, hugging your knees to your chest even tighter.

“You’re sitting in a puddle of your own sweat.” Ka’ani’s voice is harsh, yet laced with concern. “And whatever else is coming out of you.” His jaw clenches and unclenches as he looks away from you, seemingly out of — respect? He catches sight of the full bucket of fresh water at your bedside, along with empty drinking bowls.

Has she not been tended to all day? Not a sip to drink? Ka’ani thinks to himself, concerned as to why Tak’s mate would be alone, uncared for and in heat of all things. 

You finally muster up the energy to tug the sodden sheet over your naked body and scoot back further to the frame of the bed. “Ralak said he will be back soon. You should leave if y-you want to live.” You lie, feeling a little threatened that a male na’vi has barged into your marui while you’re in heat. 

“Yeah, I don’t believe that for a second, y/n. None of this makes sense.” Ka’ani speaks, taking a few steps towards you. 

You shuffle even further back only for your back to make contact with the bed frame. A rush of fear surges through you. The type of fear that has your heart twisting behind your ribs. You cross your legs over one another, bunching up the sheet between them and beg with trembling lungs, “P-Please, Ka’ani. Don’t.” 

Ka’ani stops dead in his tracks, seemingly offended by your assumption that he’d be approaching you to do something that the great mother herself would look down upon. Sure, he tracked your scent last time, but he was here atone exactly for that. 

“Syor [relax]. I would never do such a thing.” He says through gritted teeth, storming towards the bedside and quickly pouring you a drink. “No matter how strong your scent is. Although, you don’t smell all that great now that you’re mated.” He chuckles lightly as he hands you the drink. Your eyes jump between him and the cup in his hand before you struggle to sit up. His hand instinctively reaches out to assist you, but you bat it away and continue to pull yourself up. 

“Just — let me help you.” He snaps, supporting your back when you finally give in. “Drink.” He commands, plunking the cup in your hand, taking a step back and crossing his arms.  

You gulp down the water greedily, finally quenching your thirst and hoping it will provide some level of relief to your febrile condition. You hum to yourself as the water makes its way down your throat, but groan when you feel no better. Meanwhile, Ka’ani takes in your state, feeling a twinge in his heart for you when he sees how you’ve been suffering. You look more than uncomfortable. You look like you’re in pain.

“You’ll be alright, y/n. Just tell me where he went and I’ll go fetch him.” He speaks in a more gentle tone, taking the empty cup from your hand.

“I-I don’t — haah. He said he went… He went inland to hunt.” You blubber out, feeling your body heat to a dangerous degree. It has you shaking as you ease yourself back into a more comfortable position. 

Ka’ani shakes his head a bit, “Inland to hunt? Really? When his mate is in heat? Tak would never. The only time he’d ever do that is if he is also… in rut.” Ka’ani stalls on the last few words that slip off his tongue, tasting them in his mouth as the realization sets in. Ka’ani quickly fills the cup, sets it next to you and bolts to the door. Before he ducks under the flap of your Marui, he looks over his shoulder and reassures you.

“Sit tight, forest girl. I know exactly where he is.”

— —

It’s been a few hours since coming to his usual spot — the waterfall with the coldest water known to the reef people. It is Ralaks most private and intimate place aside from his humble abode. A place where only a select few people know about. He’s most drawn to the low temperature of the water, making it a perfect environment to endure the heat of his rut in. 

Despite doing this for the past few years, each cycle gets a little more intense. And this one is certainly no exception. 

Ralak sits underneath the overhang, right in the dip of the plunge pool, and allows the water to beat on his back. He’s maintained this position for the past few hours, only releasing himself when the pressure in his core grows too much. A pressure so immense it would have his body acting on its own accord — a wandering hand finding its way to his swollen cock. 

Truth be told, he hated the feeling. 

He hated feeling so out of control. To be nothing but a slave to his own primal impulses. He’d fight it as much as he could, just like he is now, until the sensation is just too intense to ignore. Until he’s grunting and squirming with a body so heated it has him grinding his teeth. 

He quickly stands up, tilting his head back and covering his face from the stream of the water with his hands. At this point his cock is so swollen that it’s outright painful, throbbing and pulsing from the lack of attention. He thinks of you — your thin tail and tiny stature. The way you lay in bed this morning before he left. Naked and exposed before his eyes. Eywa, how he wishes you were here. How he could finally spend his rut with his mate, but he just knows it would be too much for you to handle. 

The thoughts of you make this no easier, sending his hips thrusting into the air — the running water stimulating his thudding cockhead. He groans from the immense pleasure a little water brings him. He’s neglected himself so badly to the point that he feels like this could really make him cum. But how many times has he cum by now? 

Once? Twice? Thrice? 

He lost count after the fifth time, not that he was keeping track anyways. If anything he was downright denying himself the pleasure, and convincing himself that he remained in control. But fuck, the image of your delicate body —the possibility that he could break you if he weren’t careful— pushes him over the edge. Before he can stop himself, his hot cum is spilling from his slit all over the length of his cock and he’s unable to keep his noises at a minimum. 

“Mmmph.” His deep growl rumbles, a hand grabbing a firm hold of his jumping cock. 

He squeezes what’s left out of his slit, finally looking down to see the state of himself. It’s red and raw — spikes fully erect and balls drawn so close to his body they’re practically hiding behind his thick knot. He lets out a loud sigh. 

Relief. 

Finally, he leans back against the rocky wall and slides down into the plunge pool, immersing himself chest deep into the water. He lightly treads back to the bank and makes himself comfortable — allowing his head to rest and body to relax. He takes a few deep breaths and tunes into the burble of the waterfall. 

All until he hears the click of a — 

Ka’ani?

“Tik-Tak.” Ka’ani clicks melodically, cautiously approaching the giant submerged in the waterfall. Ralak doesn’t budge. He remains fixed in position, eyes shut, head and elbows resting on the edge of the river. His chest heaves harshly as he attempts to remain in this less than tranquil state. “Never thought I’d see the day Ralak leaves his mate in heat. To be soaking in a waterfall of all things.” 

Perhaps Ralak heard wrong. Leaving his mate in heat? Ralak would know if his mate were in heat. He would sense it. Whatever rubbish he’s spewing out, Ralak doesn’t have the time, nor patience, for it. 

“Skxawng, what are you on about? Leave me be.” Ralak huffs, wiping the sweat from his face with a quick hand movement.

“Just as I thought. You’re all hot and bothered too, aren’t you?” Ka’ani chuckles. 

“Leave.” Ralak says angrily, his purplish-blue eyes finally snapping up to meet Ka’ani’s. “I have just calmed.”

Ka’ani’s brows knit together, offended and a little confused with himself for being upset from the way Ralak is shooing him away. 

“Oh c’mon brother. All I’ve been told today is to leave!” Ka’ani’s hands fly up as he takes a step forward. “First your mate, and now you. Am I really that unwanted?”

Now he’s got Ralaks attention. 

Ralak gets a whiff of your sweet, sweet pheromones on him. As if he’s been around his tanhì. Scenting his tanhì. Touching his tanhì. His primal urges devour him once more, eating away at him until nothing but a possessive beast remains. One of pure territorial instinct. 

“What did you do?” Ralak growls through a clenched jaw as he jumps out the water and approaches Ka’ani. “Scenting my mate again?” His voice booms as it increases in volume, yet lowers in depth. “Answer me. Did you touch her?!” 

“No!” Ka’ani blurts out, now taking a few steps back with his hands splayed out in front of him. “Is that what you both really think of me? This is the last I ever do some—”

Ralak remains silent, taking quick, calculated strides directly towards Ka’ani, who is now backing up into a tree. Once his back hits the scaly bark, Ralaks' balled fist slams into the trunk, barely an inch away from Ka’ani’s skull. 

“Alright! Alright. I know what I did before. I-I’m sorry. I came looking for you to apologise for that but I found her in heat. Okay? I came here as soon as I realized.” 

Unsure of whether or not to believe a word coming from this skxawng’s mouth, Ralak steps away from his prey, bloody knuckled and full of uncertainty. But the one thing he is certain about is the fact that he wants no other na’vi to find you if you really are in heat. With a huff of defeat, he pushes past Ka’ani and bolts for the shore. 

——

The trek back to the marui is twice as quick. Your pheromones are thick and potent, affecting him even a few feet away from the marui door. And when he steps through the marui door, he’s completely inundated with the thick fog of your pheromones. He feels lost in himself, struggling not to succumb to his instincts. Struggling to regain control.

“Ma’ L-Lak?” You mewl shakily.

You can smell him, just like he can smell you. It only drives you further into your heat, your trembling body now shaking a little more. Sensing that your mate is in close proximity, your scent glands release more of your aphrodisiac to lure him in. In turn, this has its effects on your body — sending you into a submissive state where you feel too heavy to even lift a finger. You lay there, legs splayed out and glossy fingered. 

You watch through blurred vision as the tall and thick silhouette quickly makes its way towards you. Ralak grabs and firmly holds your legs back as he leans in close, making the confirmation that his mate is indeed in heat. He lingers a little longer than he can control, taking everything in him to pull away and calm down — panting and out of breath. 

“It is true.” He huffs, towering over your tiny, shivering frame. “In heat.” The two words drip off his tongue, much like the thick nectar dripping from your slit.

“Lak. Oh — lak. ’ts you.” You cry out in relief, clawing at his thigh to bring him back to you, “‘m so happy it’s you ‘nd not someone else.” His teeth grit as your hand grazes his thigh, but he remains fixed in place, unsure of his ability to keep his composure if he allows himself to give in to your touches. 

What is he supposed to do now? 

He didn’t think this far into his plan… for once in his life. Typically he’s quite calculated and certain of his next move but now — now he’s not sure how he’s going to deal with this. He just knew that he couldn’t leave you alone. Not for another man to find and claim you in the way that only he should. But he has to remain himself. For you. He swallows down his uncertainty before speaking. 

“I should have stayed.” He looks down at the flushed, puffy flesh between your legs with a rapacious glint in his eye. “I am sorry.” 

“Don’t be. Just p-please. It’s to-o much. T-Too hot. It aches, karyu.” Ralak winces when you groan the last few words, it’s almost painful to resist you at this point. You go to claw at this thigh once more, only for him to shift away. “No, don’t do that. Not right now. N-Need you so ba—”

“My rut came. This morning.” He’s quick to cut you off with a strained, yet monotonous voice, unable to peel his eyes away from your swollen cunt. 

“I-I know.” You pant, earning a twitch of Ralaks brows. “‘nd t-that’s good. Ngh—that’s really good,  I-I can help you too.” You mumble, sticking your hand between your legs to fondle with yourself. With the way he grimaces one side of his face, it seems as if he wants to look away, but can’t. 

“No, tanhì. We spoke of this.” His accent is thick as he struggles to string the words together, “No control. Trying hard…” he inhales quickly, eyes plastered to the sight in front of him, “…not to lose it.”

At this point the haze of your heat has you lethargically shaking your head from side to side, mumbling whatever frustrated-fueled words that first come to you “…haven’t cum yet…”, you squirm around to find a position that allows your wandering fingers better access to your hole, “…need to cum.” You slur the words as you barely slip two fingers inside you and you quietly sob when they provide very little release. 

“Ralak!” You cry loudly enough to at last lure his gaze up to yours, the night sea finally meeting the roaring flame. Your voice quiets down into a soft whimper, “Please. Just t-try. Please.” 

A moment of silence passes where you and Ralak stare at one another, hearts pounding and chests heaving, understanding exactly how the other feels. The burning desire to come together. The resistance, yet the lack of control. The eternal flame within. The heat. 

Ralak breaks eye contact to glance at your slender fingers working as hard as they can. He breathes a heavy sigh, feeling a pang of guilt for leaving you when he sees just how raw you are from being in heat all alone. He’s responsible for you even being in this bad of a state, isn’t he? Leaving you before sunrise with nothing but a kiss on the head. If anything that only made it more intense for you. He wants to — no, needs to care for you. It’s what every part of himself is urging him to do. 

“The thought of another finding you… like this.” Ralak rasps as he closes in on you, “so vulnerable… it makes me — haah.” He cuts himself off with a shaky sigh and a clench to his jaw. Beads of sweat ball on his temples, slowly rolling down his angular jaw to eventually meet and drip from his chin onto your stomach. He looms over you, his hair flowing forward when he suddenly grabs and tugs at your wrist in one swift move, yanking your fingers out of you. 

“Ss-ah!” You hiss with a wince, heart skipping a beat when you realise that he’s barely there anymore. “I-It makes you, what?” You ask quietly — nervously, even. 

A bestial growl begins to rumble in his chest, causing a shiver to ripple through you—hardening your nipples into peaks within seconds. Jawbone fluttering from his reluctance to answer, he harshly cups your pussy with his hand, causing you to gasp. His sharp, intimidating stare locks with yours, brows tensing as he allows two, thickset fingers to slip down to your slickened opening. His growl fades into a single, drawn out word. 

“Nìfmokx. [jealous]” 

His admission slips past his lips just as his fingers sink into your aching core, leaving your mouth agape and hot tears spilling over your cheeks. Jealousy isn’t an emotion Ralak is used to feeling. Much less something he would subject you to experience with him. But you could see the raw emotion in his eyes, as they flicker from a dark blue to something even deeper. It’s the way his stare bores into your innermost being as he fills you up with his digits alone, telling you that you were his, and his only. 

He hooks his fingers right into your gummy walls, holding his position as he moves his hand in an up and down motion at full tilt. The tips of his fingers repeatedly slam into your swelling sweet spot, coaxing out broken, filthy noises from your throat. He hums with pride, yet his face remains stone cold, minus the occasional twitch of his jawbone. He’s trying so hard to keep at a steady pace, and not to be too rough with your fragility. 

“Oh f-fuck.” You curse under your breath, both hands grabbing a firm hold of his forearm. You’ve been unintentionally edging yourself all day that you’re already almost there. And no matter how hard you squeeze and claw at his now-veiny arm, he remains unmoving. 

“Go on, then.” He huffs impatiently as he looks down at you, feeling your walls clamp down on his fingers. Your heels sink into the bed when you push your hips into the air, fingernails digging into his skin as you near your first release. You begin to whimper, bucking your hips to chase the feeling of relief. It’s right there. It’s so close; and you just need to allow it to wash through you. You tense up so badly your whole body shakes, sending your teeth chattering and your bottom lip quivering. You swear you can see the stars from the night sky litter your vision and feel your heavy lids flutter shut.

“Look at me.” Ralak demands in a sharp, gruff tone. Your glossy eyes shoot back up to his, and you start to sputter out whatever gibberish comes from your mouth — a few curses mixed with his name and your fathers’ mother-tongue. He continues to glare down at you with a rigid face, tensing his jaw as he wills himself to be gentle and patient with you. “Good. Now cum, little one.” 

Your pathetic noises suddenly fade into a sweet, little cry. A cry of relief when your frustration washes away as you finally come undone on his fingers. The alleviation is so intense that it’s almost consuming; “T-Thank—” you collapse back down onto the bed, “—you. Thank you—haah, thank you karyu.” You pant repeatedly, his forearm ripping from your grip when he unexpectedly wrenches his fingers out of you. You squirm from the sudden emptiness, “Wait—” 

“Do not thank.” He spits the accented words as he stumbles back to create some distance between the two of you. He pants as he attempts to recollect himself, his face of stone finally screwing into something of a grimace. “So…if another na’vi found you, would you thank him too? Hm?”

“Lak. I… N-No.” You stutter, unsure of what to even say. 

“You are mine. My mate…” he growls through thinned lips, “My duty. Understand?” 

“Yes.” You nod quickly, feeling your cheeks heat up. It arouses you to see him so jealous. So possessive. So assertive. 

Ralak slams his eyes shut and gulps so hard it’s audible —visible even. You could see the bump in the column of his throat quickly undulate, his chest heaving harshly and his shoulders dramatically rising and falling with each breath he struggles to take. And for a while, there’s nothing but silence and his heavy breathing that you feel the overwhelming need to break it. 

“Ralak.” 

Your trembling, tiny voice snapping his head back up to you, once tightly closed eyes now flying open to reveal the most beautiful shade of mauve. They pierce into you like a spear through an unsuspecting prey, full of nothing but pure, unadulterated greed. 

You never thought you’d see them again except in that vision. You get lost in them for a little, studying how the gold ring around his blown pupils still remains even in a sea of indigo. 

You sense that he’s in the thick of his rut now and you need to relieve him soon, like he did for you. Or only Eywa knows what will happen. You allow yourself to finally take in the man before you in full, eyes trailing down his sweaty, muscular physique — perfectly carved v-lines and six fingered tattoo — until they land on his aching cock. 

Oh, fuck. Is he bigger? You think, admiring his mushroomy head and erect spikes. It’s oozing and dripping, unable to keep still from how hard it’s pulsing. It’s at least an inch bigger than usual. 

You look away to study his facial expression and by the way he’s looking at you, you can tell he’s waiting for your command, trying his hardest to prevent himself from pouncing on you and fucking you senseless right here and now. You’ve never seen him this way before. Straining so hard to keep himself in one position and struggling to keep his hands to himself. 

“Ralak… More.” You spread your legs as wide as they can go, holding them apart by the bend of your knees, exposing yourself completely. His heavy lidded eyes widen almost as much as your legs, pointed ears flicking upwards in excitement when he sees you assume such a vulnerable and submissive position. 

“Y/n.” He groans, voice thick with arousal and want and maybe a little desperation as he takes in the sweet sight of your still-pulsing and swollen clit poking out between your folds. “I am… losing control.”

Hearing your name fall from his lips in this way — this tone, instantaneously reignites the flame in your core. In seconds your slit is practically dripping, forming a pool of your slick underneath you. “Good.” You pant as you stare up into his slit-like pupils. You swallow quickly before mustering up the courage to invite the beast in. “Now…remind me who I belong to.”

How could he resist now? 

With the way you’re talking and your pheromones so pungent that they fill his lungs to the brim with no space for any other option but to fall into the thick of his rut. Before you can formulate another thought in your foggy state, Ralak has your legs pinned back and is diving nose first into your cunt. 

He wastes no time to have his fill of you, lapping up your juices so desperately your body moves from the force of his licks. He has been wanting to taste you ever since you made a mess on his fingers, fuck — ever since he got a whiff of your scent from outside his marui door, but denied himself the pleasure in the case he couldn’t stop himself from going any further. But now, all restraint and denial is now left out at that very door. 

The flat of his tongue trails up your inner thigh and then back to your folds, tasting a mixture of the sweetness of your slick and the saltiness of your sweat. He groans when his tongue finally grazes past your clit, feeling it throb against his taste buds. He lingers there for a while, swirling and sucking on you until he unlatches to come up for a quick breath of air. 

“Fucking ftxìlor [delicious].” He gasps out a curse, shoving your legs even further back to have seconds of his meal. 

It becomes evident that he’s doing this for himself. Because if he were doing this solely for you, he would have made you cum by now. He’s eating you out as if he’s been starved for weeks, sucking and popping off your clit just to lap up the sweet, sticky nectar seeping from your hole just to coat his tongue. 

He’s nowhere near as quiet as he usually is, grunting and groaning as he swallows your juices. His fingernails dig into your thighs as he tries to keep himself from being too rough with your tiny, dainty body. But, his attempts prove to be futile once you feel your hips lift off the ground from his grip tightening around your thighs. You stare at the sight of your mate between your legs, crinkling his forehead and squeezing his eyes shut as he can’t stop himself from indulging in his urges. 

“Fuck me!” You let out a frustrated moan, your heat having you so on edge you need to cum again. 

His eyes fly open, and within moments he’s tucked under your hips, pelvises flush together as he rests his throbbing, neglected cock between your folds. His tip touches your belly button with ease, beads of precum oozing out of his slit one after the next. 

“This is what you want, yes?” He bucks his hips into you, the tip of his cock smearing his slick all over your deep blue skin. 

“Fuck, yes.” You whisper shakily, chin meeting your chest to look at the masterpiece he’s painting on you. “I want my mates cock.”

He only responds with a rough growl, flipping you over and pushing you onto your stomach.

“Oh shit.” You mutter under your breath, a little afraid of what you’ve gotten yourself into. But you trust Ralak. 

You know that even in rut he would never hurt you. Not intentionally, at least. Of course this is not to say that he would be gentle —you expect that anything but.

With a firm hand to your upper back, his body is pressed against yours and his face nuzzled into the crook of your neck. He breathes in deeply through his nose, holding it in his lungs, and then letting out a hot, shaky breath against your skin, finally allowing himself to really take in your scent. 

He almost becomes drunk off it— at least it feels that way for him. Your scent has him feeling like he’s downed two full bottles of fermented fruit with no chasers in between and he simply can’t get enough of it. 

Hand moving swiftly from your back to your head, he pins your face to the bed as he trails his tongue along your jawbone to the nape of your neck. He lingers a little longer than he can help, suckling on and grazing his pointed canines against the skin. It sends shivers down your spine until your tail curls into the air and back arches in complete submission. You push back into him, feeling his hardened length pressed between the swell of your ass and base of your tail. 

Fuck, you just want it inside you already. 

“Lifting your tail for me, hm?” He huffs, puckering his lips against your skin and suckling tenderly. You can feel the emptiness creep back in, and that maddening itch deep in your womb. You moan softly, like a low hum under your breath, which only riles him up more. He feels like he wants to make you his all over again.

To mate with you. 

To mark you as his in every way so that no other man would even dare look your way. Without warning, Ralak pushes up off you, his sinewy arms caging you in with one hand binding your wrists and the other keeping your head pinned to the bed. His legs hold yours down, his knees locking your ankles in place. 

“You belong to me.” He growls next to your ear, his hand abruptly leaving your head to reach for the base of his skull for his kuru. With a quick tug, he brings it over his shoulder and pops it into his mouth to hold with his teeth. He reaches for your kuru that lies innocently in the dip of your back, and brings it towards his mouth.  

A wave of anxiety washes over you when the image of Ka’ani finding you earlier in your own mess flashes before you. You can’t help but wonder if he would see that if he made tsaheylu right now. Imagine how he’d react when he realizes Ka’ani saw you naked and covered in slick? Your body squirmed at the mere thought, only making Ralak tighten his grip on you. 

“Wait!” Is all you could blubber out before you feel the connection —the bond. Your eyes bulge when you feel him surge through you, two minds becoming one. It takes you by surprise, he’s never one to hastily or unexpectedly make tsaheylu with you. But tonight he makes the bond as if you were a tsurak to be tamed. 

What he sees next drives him further into his territorial urges — your interaction with Ka’ani. The way Ka’ani barged into his home. How he saw your naked, vulnerable body. The fear that you felt when another man invaded your space. When he helped you. Innocently touched you. 

“He touched you.” He says between pants, a mixture of emotions washing over him all at once. But the sharp pang of your heat transferring through tsaheylu has him entirely succumbing to his own urges and carnal instincts. 

He’s simply not there. 

His hips start bucking uncontrollably and his cock is poking and prodding at your puffy folds. The crown of his cock jabs at your clit a few times before finally parting your folds and with a quick snap of his hips he’s probing your entrance. 

It stings when his swollen cockhead breaks past the resistance of your tightness, and he can’t help but lay hold of your hip and hiss from how tiny you feel. This is the first he’s ever had his cock stuffed inside a pussy during his rut. The feeling is all-consuming and he unapologetically yearns for more.  

Hips snapping back, he pops his cockhead out of you only to shove it back in again. And again. And again until he’s repeatedly using your tight, little hole as nothing more than a fucktoy for his own self pleasure. 

He leans back to take in the hazy sight, admiring the way your hole stretches perfectly to accommodate the sheer thickness of his cock. And when he sees the mushroomy part of his head slowly emerge he can’t help the way his hips stutter just to sink it back inside you. 

It’s torturous, not having all of him inside you when that’s what your body is pining for most. He’s so much bigger than normal and you know that this is an itch that only he can scratch. “God—” You whine the foreign word, “—just fuck me already!” 

“Agh. Quiet.” He lets out an irritated grunt, both hands flying to your hips to shove you down onto his cock — a loud, audible smack permeating the air when your sticky pelvises collide. 

It almost overpowers the hoarse yet piercing cry that escapes your quivering lips. You’re so tender that the sudden stretch is too intense and with no time to adjust to his size you find yourself shuddering like you did after he took your innocence —your virginity. 

His head dips back in ecstasy just when his tip kisses your cervix, his eyes screwed shut as he tries not to spray his seed inside your womb right now. His fingers sink into your skin, surely leaving bruises behind that will last for weeks. 

“Hngh — woman.” He groans longingly, dropping his head forward and opening his ineberated eyes to witness how your cunt is sucking in every single inch of his cock with glee. 

He grinds himself inside you, tugging at your hips and pushing against the resistance as if he were trying to stuff more of his cock inside you. Your high-pitched shrill fades out into a pathetic little whimper, your wobbly elbows and knees struggling to keep you up.

It’s all too much and your fucked out mind goes blank. You can’t even process how your body is submitting to its owner and his rough touches, opening itself up to be bred already. You sense what’s coming next. Your back bows, elbows and knees burying into the softness of the bed as you try to ground yourself for Ralak to use you for his own relief. 

He does exactly that— hunching over you and shuffling his knees closer so he can gain more leverage to fuck into your slippery cunt. He puts all his weight on you, his fingernails almost piercing your skin when he begins rutting into you like his life depends on it. 

He sets a merciless pace right off the bat, pounding into you as if he were angry with you. He huffs and puffs from trying to catch his breath but fails because he can’t stop himself from humping at you. His body won’t let him, not until he’s ensured you're full with his seed and will bear his child. 

Hands quickly leaving your hips, he grabs your wrists, binding them together once more and the other grips your kuru and yanks it back. Your neck is exposed and your mouth hangs agape as you’re given no other choice but to take the jackhammering of your life. He’s never fucked you so hard or fast and perhaps it’s the haze of your heat but you just want more of him. 

“F-Fuck. FuckFuckFuckmeFuckme— yes!” You beg deliriously, pushing yourself back onto him. You can feel the way his cock is bulging from your lower stomach, but you couldn’t care less because you just want it even deeper inside you. Fuck, it hurts even but it feels so good that you can’t stop begging for more. “Deeper — oh, yesyesyes!” 

Ralaks groans become drawn out and he’s burying his hot face into the crook of your neck as his pulsing tip bullies its way past your cervix. It’s like white hot pleasure surging through your entire being and it has you so lightheaded you may actually pass out before he’s finished with you. 

His cock heats up inside your cunt, becoming so veiny you could practically feel each vein press against your gummy, slimy walls. He’s now panting open mouthed against your throat, his tongue darting out to lick your skin. He shoves your head down so he can access the back of your neck—a hot spot for your pheromones— and grazes his canines against you. Every fiber of his being is urging him to sink them into your skin and see if you taste as good as you smell. His fangs throb in his mouth at the mere thought, his hot saliva dripping off their length and down your neck. 

You’re so overwhelmed and overstimulated that you can’t form a coherent thought much less process the fact that you’re quickly nearing your climax. It’s as if you’ve surrendered all control over your body to him and he’s dictating what happens next. Your pussy walls tighten around him so much it aches and he outright whimpers. 

“Sst-ah.” He pulls away from your neck and slams his eyes shut, grimacing from the way your cunt is gripping his cock. At this point you’re so on edge that you’re just pinching him, locking him inside you and almost cutting off his blood supply. It’s more than painful for him, and he becomes peeved that you won’t ease up. 

Irritated, he aggressively slams himself into you so that you stop with your pathetic little pinching, but all that does is tip you over the edge. Next thing you know your cunt is helplessly fluttering around his cock and your pussy juices are trickling down your thighs.

“Mmm-fuck I’m cumming!” You moan the words so quickly they jumble together, “Cu-cumming! Cumming!”  

You throbbing around him has his eyes rolling into the back of his head but the more your body convulses underneath him the more he grows frustrated with you. How could such a little thing put on such a big performance? Why won’t you just stay still?

So he thrusts. And thrusts. And thrusts. 

Taming you in the only way his body knows how. Fucking into you without mercy or sympathy. He lets out a hiss, the first he’s ever directed your way, and tightens his grip. “Keep…” He pulls out of you until only the tip is left inside, “...still.” Ralak’s deep voice rumbles next to your ear as he slams every inch cock into your cunt, the mere force of his thrust almost knocking you onto your stomach. You let out a broken whimper, coming down from your high and already feeling the coil in your stomach wind and heat up again. 

“Haa—‘nna…make you swell.” He groans the fragmented sentence like a dying man, grinding so deeply inside you that his swollen balls rub against your puffed up clit. Your bruised cervix feels so good against his cock as he uses it to massage the most sensitive part of his tip. 

Experiencing nothing but absolute rapture, Ralaks head slumps into the crook of your neck, where he’s flooded by your scent. He only grinds harder. And harder, until he’s panting like a viperwolf against your skin.

“Fuck — please…” You beg through a shaky whisper, trying to free your hands from his undying grip, “I j-ust c-came.” 

He’s just so fucking big and deep that he’s touching parts of you that have never touched before, and he’s only getting more aggressive the more you push away his advances. Right now, you’re just a squirming, noisy bitch in heat that needs to be put in her place. To surrender and submit. And the pheromones wafting up his nostrils only drive him further into his bestial urges to claim you as his.

His teeth and gums throb in his mouth once more when the urge to mark you as his becomes indubitable. Much like the urge to keep you still enough to make you into a vessel for his seed. He indulges himself, yanking your head back to expose the bend of your shoulder. He hovers open mouthed over your flawless skin and gives you a kitten lick before ruthlessly marking you. 

Your eyes bulge and pupils constrict into nothing but dots when you feel his lengthy fangs plunge into your flesh. The wail evading your throat is deafening and only gets higher when you feel your shoulder set ablaze. His jaw locks into place and he holds you still as he incessantly claims you as his in more ways than just marking. Your eyes start to water and your body stiffens when you feel it. 

He’s bulging inside you. 

Stretching you out until your shoulder isn’t the only part of you on fire. You lash around, clawing at whatever’s in your way until your nails are dull but the more you move the more it burns. “Y-You’re getting bigger inside me!” You release a high pitched squeal, your elbows and knees finally collapsing under you. Now all his weight is on top of you, pinning you flat to the bed with nowhere for you to go. He begins groaning low and deep, drawing it out until it turns into a depraved growl. It feels as if he’s swelling inside you, as if he were doubling in size. As if he were — oh fuck. 

“You’re — you’re knotting me, lak!” You yell when you come to the realisation. It feels like there’s two of him inside you, stretching you to unfathomable lengths. Despite your continuous attempts to get him to let up, he continues to bulge inside you. “You’re knotting me.” You repeat the words in a weakened, croaky voice of defeat, finally giving in and accepting your fate. 

Riding out his high, his hips stutter out of his control — a familiar sensation now flooding your core. A rush of warmth inside you. It’s his hot seed pumping inside you, his cock thumping with each spurt. He groans and moans until you’re so overloaded with his cum it begins to drip down your thighs and mix with yours. 

He unlatches from your shoulder, lapping at the wound to prevent it from bleeding too badly. He plants a few rough kisses on the double crescent shaped mark and works them up to the lobe of your ear. He’s panting and sweating and he can feel the fog lifting now that he’s had his release. “‘m sorry.” He mumbles between wet kisses, now trailing them back down to the fresh wound to lap at it some more. “‘m sorry.”

“Ralak, I-I” You stutter, overloaded with all these new sensations. It’s burning worse than a hellfire wasp sting but at the same time it’s everything your body hungers for. “Haah.. it-it hurts” You whimper quietly, looking behind you to see the most inebriated eyes you’ve ever seen on this man’s face stare back at you. He releases his pheromones to help your body calm down and feel less pain, ultimately scenting you all together.  

“Mawey.” Ralak huffs, trying his hardest to stay still now that he’s quickly coming to the realisation that he’s knotted and marked you in one go. “Doing… so well, tahnì.” He tries to praise you but truthfully he’s still in and out of it, dazing off when he feels the occasional throb of your walls. 

“Am I? Am I helping you too, lak?” You ask in a surprisingly optimistic tone, proud that you were able to do what you were told was unmanageable. He musters out a nod, grunting as he finishes emptying himself in your womb. 

Feeling some level of sense and rationality, you ask him a question that’s been on your mind. “I’m going to get pregnant, aren’t I?”

“Mm.” He hums, nodding his head as he nuzzles himself into the dip of your shoulder, inhaling your seeping scent. 

“Is that what you w-want?” Your breath hitches as you flinch from his cheek resting on your shoulder.

“Mm.” Another grunt, followed by an unexpected, fervid thrust — his body answering your question on his behalf by ensuring every last drop of his essence is inside your fertile womb. 

You focus on steadying your breathing now that you’ve gotten your answer. 

“Irayo, muntxate [thank you, wife].” He says weakly, finally rolling you both onto your sides for some much needed rest. You chuckle. A weak one, but a chuckle nonetheless, and repeat his own words back to him.

“Do not thank.” You say with a smile, getting yourself as comfortable as you can for the long night ahead. 

—— 

#ralak #ralak smut #avatar smut #awow smut #metkayina #metkayina smut #metkayina oc #oc smut #avatar oc smut #awow oc smut #sully reader #sully reader x oc #oc x sully reader #oc x sully reader smut #na'vi smut #na'vi x reader #na'vi x sully reader #na'vi avatar #smut #metkayina x omaticaya #metkayina x omaticaya smut #metkayina x fem reader #ralak x y/n #ralak x reader #ralak x you #heat cycles #heat cycle #rut cycle #rut cycles

[delulujuls]

his eyes | mv33

hi! you asked about part two for the mad dutchman and the fearless dutchess so i delivered (its still hot, fresh from the oven). i'm not sure if i like it but don't worry, for sure i will write something about the mad dutch duo in the future. but now enjoy this one!

summary: eyes can say a lot so where it comes to reveal feelings there is no place to hide

warnings: none, mentions of car accident

pairing: fem!redbulldriver x max verstappen

Max's eyes were beautiful.

They were always beautiful when they had small wrinkles around them caused by smiling. Always then, they were the color of a cloudless sky on a warm july morning. They were beautiful even when there was a storm raging inside. They were dark and agitated then, but still beautiful. But they were beautiful in a terrifying way, because at that moment there was no trace of a smile on Max's face, and the only warmth was the rage burning in his veins.

Y/N could have sworn she had never met another pair of eyes like Max's, so whenever she could, she allowed herself to drown in them. Even during arguments, when they were shouting and calling each other names, his eyes were beautiful. However, they lost all their beauty when they were struck by fear.

When Max was scared, his eyes faded. The july sky was covered with clouds and the turbulent sea was shrouded in fog. Y/N stopped noticing the fear in Max's eyes when he managed to break free from his toxic father and their karting years ended, replaced by Formula 1.

However, on that day when she woke up in the ambulance, the first thing she encountered was the cloudy sky in his eyes. Max wasn't scared; he was terrified to the core. When, after a few seconds, his brain acknowledged that his friend was alive, he sighed with relief. The sky began to clear.

"I never thought I'd be so happy to see those deceitful eyes of yours."

Verstappen smiled, squeezing his friend's hand.

"What happened?"

She asked with difficulty. Her throat hurt terribly; the hot smoke and fumes had taken their toll.

"You had an accident and lost consciousness. We'll be at the hospital soon."

"Accident is an understatement," a paramedic interjected, removing her drip from the hanger "You did a Grosjean from Bahrain 2020."

Y/N blinked several times and it took her a moment to connect the dots. Judging by the man's comparison, her accident must have been truly unpleasant.

"How's the car?"

"Just needs a wipe."

She rolled her eyes at her friend's words, and a moment later, she coughed. Quickly, she put her oxygen mask back on.

"Don't worry about the car," Max said, still holding her hand. "The most important thing is that you're back with us."

"At what cost? At least, being unconscious spared me from looking at you."

She replied sarcastically, pulling the mask slightly away from her face. Max chuckled quietly at her words, relieved that she still had the strength to joke after everything. She returned his smile. She still didn't fully grasp what had happened or what she had been involved in, but the feeling inside her body told her it must have looked bad. The last time she saw fear in Max's eyes was years ago.

But something had changed after that. Since her accident, she noticed that Max's eyes looked at her differently. In a way she had never seen before, a way she couldn't compare to anything else. They looked at her with unimaginable gentleness and tenderness. They looked at her with love.

"You're damn stubborn, you know that?"

Max said when barely two weeks after the accident Y/N, using crutches, appeared in his garage. He didn't say it maliciously; he was just genuinely worried. He put down his water bottle and approached his friend, gently hugging her and pulling up a chair for her.

"I'm glad to see you too."

She replied, leaning her crutches against the chair and sitting on the workbench.

Max sighed and shook his head. Since the accident, Y/N had been a constant source of concern for him.

"What?" she asked, glancing at him, "I'm not getting into the car, don't worry."

"You should be resting."

"I am resting, see?" Y/N pointed to her makeshift seat, "More comfortable than a bed."

Max was about to reply, but he was called to take his place in the car. Friends exchanged glances one last time and as he left the garage, Y/N hopped off the bench and approached Christian's workstation, taking a seat next to him. He smiled at her and handed her headphones.

"Good to see you, Y/N."

"Some would prefer me not to be here."

She replied, glancing at the monitor. Christian smiled at the thought of Max, who was very concerned about his friend.

"He was really worried about you, like we all were."

"I guess I'm just not used to Verstappen seeing more than the tip of his own nose."

The man laughed at her words. She was absolutely right; Max's reputation could be unpredictable. However, lately, his behavior had changed noticeably, evident to everyone in the paddock.

When the training session ended, friends returned to the hotel. Max kept pace with Y/N, ready to catch her if she stumbled. Moving on crutches wasn't problematic for her, though.

"Don't look at me like I'm an eighty-year-old grandma."

She said, seeing his gaze as they reached her room and she plopped onto the bed with a heavy sigh.

"I'm not looking at you like that. We both know that you are slower than this only in a car."

Y/N grabbed a pillow and threw it at him and he laughed, effortlessly catching it. They looked at each other for a moment in silence, but Y/N lowered her gaze when she noticed his eyes doing it again. Looking at her in that way.

"Christian said you were worried" the girl said, after a moment gathering enough courage to look at him again, "Really?"

"I thought I was pulling a corpse out of that wreck. Of course I was worried."

She lowered her gaze again, focusing on her hands. Max squeezed the pillow in his hands and sat next to her.

"Thank you."

She said softly. Even though she had thanked him earlier, she knew that no amount of gratitude would match the level of his deed. She turned her head towards him and their gazes met again. He smiled.

"I knew you'd do the same. You've always got my back, no matter how angry you are with me."

Y/N snorted and nodded. Max was absolutely right. Although some time had passed since the accident, they hadn't had a chance to talk about it. Not about the accident itself, but about what changed between them. Because something definitely had changed.

"Can I ask you something?"

She spoke up, glancing at him. He nodded.

"Did what happened change anything between us?"

"What do you mean?"

Max tensed a bit. Although he didn't move an inch, after so many years spent together, you could pick up every detail.

"You're behaving differently toward me."

She explained. He looked at her attentively.

"You're more affectionate. I've never felt something like that from you before."

Max lowered his head and interlaced his fingers. He wasn't sure how to put into words what had been swirling in his head for some time and growing stronger with each passing day. So, he decided to go for honesty.

"When I was pulling you out of the car, I had no idea if you were alive. Riding in the ambulance, I wondered if I would ever be able to talk to you again and apologize for that senseless argument."

He took a deep breath and rubbed his face with his hands.

"When you woke up and looked at me, I thought I'd cry with happiness. That's when I realized how much you mean to me and how important you are."

Y/N stayed silent, trying to absorb all the words he had spoken. She could feel the emotions quickening her pulse, so she decided to lighten the mood a bit and probe whether they were on the same page.

"If you had kissed me, I probably would have woken up faster."

Max felt as if someone had poured a bucket of cold water on him. He blinked several times and looked at his friend. She just smiled slightly.

"Kissed?"

She nodded.

For a moment, Max struggled to open his mouth to say something, but to no avail. He was in too much shock.

"Are you setting me up now?"

"I'm not setting you up, Max."

"Yes, like if I had kissed you back then, you would have woken up faster. But only to punch me in the face."

She laughed and fell back on the pillows, pretending to be dead.

"You have to check it yourself."

Max wondered for a moment if she was joking, but he didn't have time for further contemplation. She grabbed his shirt and pulled him toward her. He leaned on his elbow next to her head and looked at her face. Her gaze and a faint smile indicated that it wasn't just a silly joke.

Without hesitation, Max lightly touched her cheek and kissed her. She smiled and hugged him around the neck, returning the kiss.

When they separated for a moment to catch their breath, the eyes of the two met again and Y/N once again allowed herself to drown in the boundless blue of his eyes. The turbulent sea was calm and the july, sunny sky was cloudless. Everything was fine.

Everything was just how it supposed to be.

#f1 imagines #f1 one shot #f1 #formula 1 #f1 oneshots #f1 imagine #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #mv33 #mv1

[cherrygukki]

after last night (m) || two

➸ pairing: rich! ex-fuckboy!jungkook x f. reader ➸ word count: 7k ➸ genres: unrequited love, non-idol au, smut, angst ➸ synopsis: Jungkook finally sees you after several months since your last time together. Surely enough you'll stay with him unlike last night, right? ➸ warnings: possessive!jk, unprotected sex (don't be silly), whiny and vocal jk, boob slapping, mirror sex, doggy style and missionary, rough, manhandling, tons of kissing, dirty talk, uses of "slut" and "whore", praise kink, oral (f), fingering, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, pussy whipped jk, reader grinds on jk's abs, hints of reader being afraid of committing to jk :(( ➸ author's note: i'm finally back after a long hiatus! decided to write another part to this since most of you seemed to like it :) this can be read as a stand-alone, but i suggest reading part one first for more context! feedback will be appreciated as always <3

read after last night (one) here

"Hey, I don't think I'll be able to go out today. My head suddenly hurts and—"

"It's okay. You should get some rest. Bye." You cut your friend off with a sigh before hanging up the 15-second phone call you held with him. At this point, you don't really care whether your voice sounded frustrated on the other line because you are. You've been waiting for more than half an hour at the destination you were supposed to meet, only to receive a lame excuse which clearly translates into him not wanting to spend time with you today.

You exhale another deep sigh once more before standing up from the bench you were sitting on, clueless on where to go after being left in the ditch.

The stranger you were sitting next to can only stare at you in pity when she overheard the conversation you had. After all, you went out of your way to make your appearance look as glamorous as possible in hopes of impressing him, even putting on the effort to wear a high set of stilettos despite the sharp pain knocking on your feet.

And here you are, aimlessly strolling around the mall like a lost puppy. There's no other goal in your mind right now aside from getting home as soon as possible after the sour event you recently experienced.

However, being set up by your crush is unfortunately not the end of your embarrassing saga. It was too late for you when you abruptly heard the heel of one of your stilettos snap in half, causing you to shamefully trip in front of a large crowd.

You silently whimper in agony as you hear the whispers of people around you.

"I got you." You mentally praise the heavens in joy when you see a concerned hand reaching out on your fallen figure. You grab it without hesitation while the kind gentleman slowly guides you back on your feet, ensuring to remove your broken shoes to avoid any more accidents.

You sigh once more, already embarrassed enough that your pride is ripped apart from a mere slip-up.

Looking up, you intend to thank the unknown man for his kindness.

Instead, your gratitude is replaced with shock within the flick of your eyes.

Your mouth hangs agape to see the face of a person you've never seen in weeks — no, months. Your eyes go wide like a deer caught in the headlights, your breath caught in your throat. And yet, you silently stare at him in awe. As much as you hate to admit it, those delicate features that adorn his charming face are still very much prominent. In fact, you even think he became more gorgeous than the last time you saw him. Hence, here you are, appreciating your ex-fling with stars in your eyes.

"Jungkook?" You finally found yourself muttering to him while his firm grip on you doesn't relent.

He merely responds with a boyish grin before carefully examining your body to see if you've received any injuries. "Are you okay?" he softly asks.

You quickly nod, "Yeah."

"I saw you walking around earlier," he states. "I was about to approach you until this..." he trails off to stare at your wrecked heels, "...happened."

For the umpteenth time today, you exhale deeply, having no clue whether you ought to simply walk home barefoot or buy another pair of shoes that'll damage your wallet.

Jungkook seems to have already founded out the thoughts troubling your mind, for he immediately grabs your hand and drags you toward the nearest store he can find.

"I'll buy you a pair," he voices before you can make any refusal. The only thing you can do now is follow Jungkook around and let him treat you for at least today, internally cheering with glee that your telepathic message has conveniently gone over to his end.

You ought to pay him back later.

Although you do intend to purchase merely one pair of shoes, shopping took longer than to your liking.

With your indecisive behavior and his extravagance combined, Jungkook almost insists on obtaining the entire shop at this point from how much you struggled to pick something.

Declining the offer, you settle on with another set of heels to at least match your outfit. While it may not be as comfortable as wearing some sandals, the wedged heels Jungkook gifted you felt certainly better than your previous stilettos, your feet actually feeling secure for once as they were much lower this time.

"Thanks for saving me today," you meekly say as you and Jungkook are wandering through the mall.

"I'm just happy to spend time with you." He replies before giving you another one of his signature smiles that has your heart fluttering for him.

With that, you suddenly remind yourself that you're still indebted to this man. You part your mouth to change the subject, offering him a treat.

"Do you want to eat something together? I'll pay this time."

His eyes widen from your utterance, and he's swift to reject your offer. "No, no! It's fine, really. I just wanted to help you out."

"If you weren't here, I would've gone home looking like an idiot so I really owe you one."

He couldn't help but giggle at your persistence, but he still shakes his head nonetheless. "No, ___. You don't have to spend anything on me. I really am happy to just do anything for you."

You groan in surrender, knowing that a guy like Jungkook is almost impossible to convince otherwise. Rather, it's your turn to grab his arm and lead him to somewhere you like.

"If you're happy to do anything for me, then at least get a coffee with me! I won't mind paying for you, I swear."

"I'm sorry if your day turned out to be quite unexpected," he says.

You quietly sip on your hot latte as you appreciate the view outside the window. Fortunately enough, Jungkook didn't turn down your request to eat at a café with him, albeit he insisted on paying for your orders instead. However, your stubborn self paid for the two of you at the end of your minute-long bicker in front of the barista. Aside from it being out of gratitude, you simply don't want others assuming that you're merely a parasite for his wealth. You humiliated yourself more than enough today.

And thus, you find you and your fling casually conversing over dessert and coffee as if God has replaced the douchebag that was supposed to be with you right now.

You glance over at Jungkook who's also enjoying his meal, staring at him for a fleeting moment before a smile unconsciously spreads on your lips. For once, you're thrilled to see him again after the series of events you had with him during your class reunion. You've done your best to avoid him for months on end, having no such intentions on being further associated with him. Although you do appreciate the kind efforts he's shown you on what you thought was about to be a terrible day, you can't deny that you still have some lingering doubt for him in the pit of your chest.

With that, you finally respond to Jungkook who's been silently staring at you the entire time, "It's okay."

"I forgot to mention that you look beautiful today."

His words only add on to your already flustered state, the way he treats you makes your head giddy as you can sense your heart violently thumping against your chest.

"Thank you," is the only response you can muster up.

He doesn't fail to notice your behavior, chuckling softly for he's pleased that his presence alone still has its effect on you.

"Were you supposed to go out with someone?" he assumes.

A bitter pang hits you at the thought of his question. You scrunch up your face in disappointment before whining. "How did you know?"

He shrugs. "I doubt you wouldn't have a reason to go out looking so pretty like that."

You grumble, although his praises do soothe your mood. You huff, "I had to wait for almost an hour for him only to receive a call saying that he's sick." You pause for a moment before continuing. "He didn't even sound sick when he called!"

Jungkook frowns after finally finding out the reason behind your apparent stress earlier. He couldn't exactly place why you were moping around in the open, but once you confirmed his speculations, something in him snapped.

"Did you like him?" he inquires.

Your ears perk up from his precipitance. You answer him nevertheless, "Well, I did initially plan on asking him out, so I guess so." You shrug.

With that, his eyes darken at your statement, nodding quietly before humming. "I see."

Everything falls silent from then on. The atmosphere between you turned awkward faster than you expected. You nervously sip from your cup although your latte has long been finished, merely finding an excuse to avoid the fierce glare Jungkook is sending your way.

A minute of silence with him is the equivalent of a decade for you. If his staring wasn't enough to already have you squirming around in your seat, then it's the unwanted question you've been dreading to hear from him.

"Why did you just leave after last night?"

And that's where you begin to lose it.

Deep down, you're terribly intimidated at how Jungkook managed to quickly switch up the ambience, but the last thing you wanted was for him to see you waver. You speak, attempting your best to seem unruffled to his eyes.

"I thought last night was only supposed to be a one night stand between us."

All that Jungkook responded with was a heavy sigh, sinking himself further in his seat as he rubs his temple from the pent-up frustration.

"I couldn't stop thinking about you that I had to throw my phone away because I was so mad, ___..." he hisses, "I was so mad that I didn't get your number in time and possibly get to know you better."

You freeze in your spot after hearing his words, shock is written all over your face when you find out what Jungkook has been up to for the past few months you ghosted him, but you don't speak of anything in return, intending to hear the entirety of his story before you make any comments.

At your silence, he took it as a sign to continue rambling. "You wouldn't get out of my head after that night, ___. Day and night, all I can remember is you and your pretty little face," he chuckles bitterly, "I even tried looking your name up but I couldn't find you."

Your eyes lock with his. "I fucking missed you, angel..."

Shock remains all over your body. However, the bubbling doubt in your chest along with the trust issues spurring in your brain are coming into play. You feel like your entire system is crashing down from his mere words and it's definitely messing with you.

"I don't believe you," you protest.

Jungkook smirks mischievously from your response before casually spreading his legs wider on the plush seat. He carefully observes your reactions, and he knows you can't resist him starting at this point.

"Oh trust me, sweetheart. If I still had my phone, I'd call every girl I know and tell them goodbye."

The old pet name he calls you tugs at the strings in your heart, his choice of words having you completely melt right in front of him then and there. He smiles in triumph, acknowledging that you've gone all putty in his hands.

"Believe me when I say that you're the only one I've been thinking about, sweetheart," he sneers, "because I still remember that night when I was splitting you in half with my cock."

You almost cough out loud from his crude statement, his lewdness certainly passing some heat down your core which inevitably causes you to uncomfortably rub your thighs together to relieve the tingling sensation that's fluttering within you.

He immediately sees you squirming underneath the table, his grin growing into that of a Cheshire cat from the tension circulating between you.

How in the world did you get here?

You keep writhing in your seat, all the while trying your best to remain discreet from the public. If someone ever hears the nasty phrases Jungkook is mouthing at you, you're absolutely done for.

Of course, Jungkook chooses to be a menace rather than keeping himself shut to save at least a portion of your dignity. But no, vulgar words fall from those cunning lips like a train, intending to have you soaking your underwear to the brim.

"I bet you always think about how good I made you cum with just my tongue, angel," he snickers, voice turning an octave lower before exhaling deeply. "Your pussy probably tastes sweeter than last time, yeah?"

Just a few filthy words from him are enough to have your center yearning for him to touch you, feel you. You squeeze your thighs more, your arousal becoming unbearable to the point where you resort on slowly grinding yourself against the chair for the sake of relieving the aching sensation between your legs.

Jungkook silently watches you in amusement, fiddling with the cold metal of his lip piercing before darting his tongue out to slowly swipe on his bottom lip

"You have no clue how fucking crazy I am for you, ___," he lowly whispers, "I'll make sure to fuck you better than last time so you won't leave me again."

And that single phrase eventually does it for you. You quickly bury your head against the table in an attempt to cover up the muffled whimper that escapes your quivering lips. However, your minimal efforts are put in vain when you see a few customers spinning their heads toward you. A dark blush creeps its way onto your face after knowing that you've caught some attention to yourself, and his eyes stay on you like a hawk, the mortifying situation you've placed yourself in certainly providing him an excellent source of entertainment.

The more you try to get off on your own, the tighter Jungkook's pants become. His cock straining uncomfortably against his boxers eventually made him have enough of the smutty show you're putting on for him. With that, he hastily jumps from his seat and yanks your hand along with him. "Let's go," he firmly says, taking long strides out of the café before his bulge can even appear more prominent for others.

It doesn't take long for the two of you to arrive in his car. He swiftly unlocks it as he makes a beeline towards the backseat with you being dragged right behind him. You yelp in surprise when he pushes you inside with no thought, immediately hovering above you to seal your mouths together in what seems like the hungriest kiss you had in your life. He kisses you like a man deprived for decades: greedy, rough, never-ending.

You moan from the way his calloused hands would explore every inch of your body as if he's trying to imprint the image of you in his brain until it leaves a scar on him for eternity.

He pulls himself deeper when your lips part open, slithering his tongue inside your mouth which causes him to hum in delight. He doesn't think of pulling away from you once, though the need to breathe is slowly becoming a struggle for him. If there's anything Jungkook intends right now, it's to savor every moment with you before he reaches his high.

However, it doesn't take long for him to free himself from you, panting wildly as the two of you try to chase your breaths from your intense make-out, lips swollen, and your makeup partially ruined.

He stares at you with full-blown eyes, and you can definitely say the same for yourself. You drink in each other's beauty for what seems like forever, memorizing each perfection and flaw on one's face before you're locking eyes with him once again.

He completely breaks away from you, maneuvering himself to the driver's seat to start up the engine. You sit up in confusion, staring at him through the rear-view mirror, and you see his reflection sending you a smug smile.

"Let's go home, sweetheart," he murmurs, "'M gonna fuck and love you the entire day..."

You shiver at the thought of going home with Jungkook out of all people, but what sends goosebumps rising all over your skin is the fact that everything that has happened up until now was serendipitous. Your day has taken a detour to where you're met with someone you want to deny from your existence.

However, you can't help but let your body need him as much as he needs you.

The two of you struggle to navigate yourselves toward his bedroom, sloppily kissing each other within the long corridors of his penthouse for several minutes before you feel yourself being pushed against the soft material of his mattress. He swiftly discards his dress shirt, finally displaying the well-sculpted figure that's hidden behind the layer of fabric. A myriad of intricate patterns of his full-sleeve tattoo, the burly muscles around his arms, his slim waist—everything about him snatches your breath away in one second. You've already seen Jungkook's body once, but seeing the heavenly figure standing above you in all his glory makes it feel like your first time again. To your dismay, however, your silent worshipping is ephemeral when Jungkook impatiently hovers over your body, hands slithering to your back to unzip your dress off.

You sit up, pulling the straps off your shoulders until your outfit softly thuds against the hard floor. Jungkook quietly groans when your breasts immediately appear upon taking off your dress, a large hand cupping one of them on first instinct.

"Fuck, you weren't wearing a bra?" He husks, toying with your hardening bud with his thumb. You moan breathily as your eyes turn heavy, already feeling sensitive from his bare touch. "The dress already had pads in it," you whimper

Jungkook paid no heed to your response, however, diving himself down the crevices of your neck where your skin gains contact with his lips. You sigh from complete bliss, sensing every lick, suck, and bite he places on your bruised neck. He scatters evidence of himself from your jaw to your chest, a range of light to dark hickeys covering your once clean skin.

"Mine," he murmurs as his hands explore every inch of your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake. With each dart of his tongue on one particular spot you love, the more your underwear dampened, and oh — was he extremely pleased when his fingers brushed against your panty-clad center.

"God, you're so wet, sweetheart..." he hums, your arousal feeding onto his growing ego as well as his erection. He draws slow, tantalizing circles around your clit, eliciting a small whimper from you. "Tell me, sweetheart. Who made you this wet, huh?"

"Y-You did," you moan, impatiently bucking your hips against his hand to add more pressure on your nub. He notices your behavior, thus pressing his digits harder agin your center, letting a yelp fall past your lips.

He leans down next to your ear where you can hear him breathing heavily, placing a soft kiss on your temple: a stark contrast to the way his fingers are roughly handling your cunt. "Say my name, angel. Wanna hear how good I'm making you feel."

The hot whisper he sends directly into your ear is enough to have your eyes rolling to the back of your head. You obey him, unable to resist the rapture he's giving you.

"Jungkook," you cry out, and that absolutely does it for Jungkook. The way your voice is filled with vulnerability merely adds on to his urge of ruining you in a multitude of ways he can think of.

Sitting up, he completely retracts his fingers from your sopping panties. You whine from the loss of his warmth, but your excitement instantly returns when he briskly peels them off your legs, now being completely exposed to him.

He grips the back of your thighs, spreading you open. You can practically see him lusting to devour your nether regions by then, but you stop him.

"W-Wait." Your hands fly down to his soft locks just for the sake of not having him face-plant himself on your center right away. He looks up at you with a concerned look, his demeanor doing a 180° flip when he sees you hesitating.

"Why? What's wrong, ___?"

Your heart almost jumps out when he softly addresses your name, showing you that he genuinely cares for your well-being. As much as you want to have Jungkook lap on your heat like it's his last feast, there's always been one asset of his that your starving pussy has been craving for.

"Wanna grind on your abs."

The request is almost inaudible, but he fully registers it. He stares deeply into your irises that you swear you could see his eyes turning a shade darker than before. He inhales slowly, finally pulling away from your parted legs to lay on his back as you gladly straddle him, your dripping cunt directly above his chiseled abdomen. He firmly holds your hips, gently guiding you down until the gap between your center and his skin is non-existent.

And oh, did the sensation hit differently.

You can feel every dip, curve, and ridge of his beautifully sculpted muscles upon contact, causing you to spill your essence upon Jungkook's honeydew skin.

He prompts you to move by grinding your hips back and forth. You didn't hold back the wanton noises escaping you, letting him appreciate your euphoric state as you shamelessly grind down on his perfect body.

You can see from the way he's hissing that he's clearly enjoying it as well, his gaze being solely trained on your heat leaving a trail of your arousal on his abs, biting his lip tightly as he goads you to pick up your pace.

Every time your sensitive clit nudges the hard pec of his abs, every time you feel Jungkook slyly flexing his muscles beneath you, and every time he further sinks your hips down to feel him better has you reeling for him. Everything about the man below you is driving you to the edge of being definitely crazy for him, your brain gradually fogging up to a cloudy state of lust.

"Such a slutty little pussy I have here..." he moans, sliding a tattooed hand up your body to fondle with your breasts. He plays with your erect buds, pinching and twisting them to how he pleases as his other hand never stopped its job from egging you to your upcoming orgasm. "So wet... it's all for me, yeah?"

You hastily bob your head up and down, for you're at a complete loss of words when you sense the bubbling knot in your stomach about to break loose any moment.

Jungkook finds no satisfaction in your response, though. He abruptly slaps your mounds to regain your attention. You gasp loudly from the painful impact, but your body seems to say otherwise when your pussy leaks more of your sticky essence onto his abs. "Words, baby. I can't hear you."

"Yes! Yes, 's all for you..!" you slur, having lost the ability to speak a single coherent word at this point. The only word you want to chant is Jungkook's name like a broken record.

And you're merely humping his abs like a pathetic animal in heat.

"Good girl," he purrs, placing his thumb on the top of your clit to rub figures of eights. You're sent into a frenzy from the subtle action, your orgasm reaching closer to its bay with each second passing.

"C-Cumming," you sob, your thighs twitching violently as your pace begins to falter, using what little energy you have left to bring you to the finish line of your climax.

"Yeah? Gonna be my good slut and cum all over my abs?"

His profane words aid your impending orgasm. Your voice becoming high-pitched, your chest rapidly heaving up and down as you hear the lewd squelching noises your cunt makes.

You reach a point where your entire body is stuttering, obscene noises continuously spilling from your lips like a waterfall. The hard ridges of Jungkook's abs are certainly bringing you to an intense high, but what ends you is his sweet voice putting you in a daze with his words.

Jungkook chuckles darkly with each sensitive reaction your body makes, "Go on and make a mess all over me, sweetheart."

And you did. Your mouth hangs wide open, but nothing is uttered from you. Your juices gush out from your center, flowing to your inner thighs and onto his abdomen. Your walls clench around thin air as you slowly ride out your high. Your small whimpers eventually come to a halt, and nothing can be heard in the room aside from the squelch of your cunt and your heavy panting.

He gently raises your hips up, eyes glazing over the sticky mess you've just created on his abdomen. Two fingers dip down to wipe away your essence from his skin, and before you know it, his fingers are right in front of your lips.

"Open." You did as told, welcoming your taste within your mouth. You greedily swirl your tongue around as you would with his cock, cleaning up what little mess that's left on him.

He pulls out with a string of saliva connecting him to your lips, groaning quietly after seeing his glistening digits.

"Fuck," he breathes out, "I have to taste you, sweetheart." He swiftly manhandles your frail body, hovering himself over you again as he parts your thighs. He eyes you like a man starved for days, and you're his prey that was caught in his trap.

Without warning, he licks a fat stripe of his tongue on your sensitive folds, earning a shriek from you. He moans against your sopping center, the vibrations making your entire body fall limp as you give up from prying his head away. Noting your weak state, Jungkook forms a sinister smile and proceeds to ruin you with his tongue, determined to put you on the brink of another orgasm.

"You taste so fucking good," he whines, his mouth loudly slurping up all of your leaking juices. "You gonna be a good girl and cum for me again?"

"Ngh... s-sensitive," you groan from the overstimulation, thighs threatening to close around Jungkook's head, but he holds you in place. He sucks on your clit like a madman, your legs quivering profusely as you feel yourself rapidly approaching another climax.

You don't realize the tears that are dribbling down your cheeks, your senses going into overdrive from the overwhelming bliss. It only takes one last suckle from Jungkook's lips to have you breaking down again. You see stars in your vision when your high crashes down on you like a tidal wave, your essence surging out your throbbing folds as he successfully catches everything on his tongue, leaving no traces of your orgasm behind. Your hands grip his hair, using the remaining energy in you to push him away. Thankfully, he complies, sitting on his knees to appreciate the mess he's created. Your hair has turned into a bird's nest, your makeup smothered all over your face, and your pussy is glistening from your slick all because of him.

Jungkook whines, the tent in his pants growing painfully unbearable. "Need to be inside you right now," he mutters before manhandling you on all fours. You shudder upon facing the mirror in front of you, finally witnessing for the first time how much Jungkook has destroyed you, and he's yet to sink his throbbing cock inside you.

Hearing a soft thud on the floor, you gasp softly when you feel his leaking tip poking your entrance. He bends down until your back meets his chest. His eyes lock with yours through the mirror, placing a soft kiss on your temple before ghosting his lips over your ear. "Eyes on the mirror when I fuck you, sweetheart," he whispers without ever breaking the intimidating gaze he has on you.

With that, he slowly enters you, your warm walls fluttering around his thick girth as you let out a long moan from his intrusion.

He hasn't even completely bottomed out, and your eyes are already giving in on the verge of closing themselves. He spots you from the large mirror, causing him to bundle the roots of your hair to force your head up. "Keep your eyes on the fucking mirror, baby," he groans, "watch me fuck you."

You finally feel him bottom out, mewling wantonly when his tip nudges your sweet spot. The burning sensation of your walls accommodating his girth brings tears in your eyes, for you sense every vein and inch of him rubbing against your warm folds.

Groaning, he slowly draws his length out until the mere tip remains inside you. The wind from your lungs is quickly knocked off when he roughly slams back in, pulling another gasp from your lips.

The thought of you taking Jungkook raw drives him insane. Feeling your tight walls squeeze his cock bare is something akin to heaven, and he can't help but let all hell break loose on you.

He doesn't give you any time to adjust, for he's already setting a ruthless pace on you. Your knuckles turn white from how you tightly claw the sheets beneath you, and for every second you watch Jungkook, the more your cunt becomes greedier for him.

The way his muscles flex with each languid thrust of his hips has you unconsciously clenching around his cock, a series of lewd noises tumbling out your mouth as if you're a broken toy.

If anything, you're his toy.

"Pussy so fucking good," he moans, landing a hard spank on your ass. "Your slutty little cunt is made for my cock, yeah?"

You roll your eyes from his possessive treatment, the way he filthily talks to you only adds on to your arousal as you nod in affirmation.

He simpers at your reflection, already knowing that you've become dumb on his cock from how you kept unknowingly drooling from the side of your mouth.

"Yeah? My little whore loves taking my cock so much, huh?" He continues, his cock drilling in and out of your leaking hole. "Bet you've never been fucked this good before," he snickers.

"Ngh, Jungkook!" You cry from how hard he's pounding into you, the mixed sensation of pain and pleasure pricking tears from your eyes. If it wasn't for the strong grip he has around the roots of your hair, your upper body would've gone purely limp by now.

It doesn't take long for you to eventually end up like Jungkook intended you to be: a broken mess. Any other rational thought from you had long been thrown out the window, for the only word you know left is his name. You chant his name in a mantra, panting wildly as you whimper louder with each thrust.

Nothing can be more perfect for Jungkook aside from the sight below him. He stares in awe whenever he pulls out to see his cock wrapped around in your slick, and hearing the obscene noises he's drawing from you is a symphony to his ears.

But most importantly, seeing how you react to even the littlest of his touch makes his heart skip a beat.

For Jungkook, you look the most beautiful when you're with him.

"You look so pretty taking my cock, sweetheart," he rasps, voicing out his thoughts. For a second, your eyes lock with his through the mirror, and you can feel your heart pounding wildly the moment you gaze through his dark eyes clouded with lust.

Your body begins to tremble when you feel yourself exploding for the third time. He feels your walls tensing sporadically around his girth, coaxing him to pound you harder—if that was even possible. You see stars in your vision every time his leaking tip kisses your spongy spot as more of your arousal trickles down your thighs.

"Jungkook," you mewl weakly, "'M g-gonna cum..!"

"I know, sweetheart." He licks his lips, making you release a tiny whimper. "You gonna milk all over my cock, hmm? Your pussy's such a fucking whore for me, angel."

The deep laugh that vibrates from his chest is what triggers you to cling onto his cock tightly and coat him in your orgasm. You wail loudly from the intense high, your upper body finally falling down on the bed. Jungkook gasps from how hard you squeezed him. His cock twitches madly inside you, and he hastily pulls out from your drenched hole to put you in another position.

You yelp when he places you on your back, his large hands groping the back of your thighs as he easily slides his cock back inside you.

Your moans quickly become high-pitched, for he gave you no time to recover from your climax. Jungkook watches in awe how you appear oh-so ethereal in his eyes—all weak and vulnerable underneath him.

He grunts with every push of his cock inside you, sensing his high that's about to burst any minute.

Leaning down, Jungkook seals your lips together in another heated kiss, muffling the sinful noises that are falling off your tongue.

It doesn't take long for him to pull away. You feel his forearms sinking down on the mattress as a few strands of his hair dangle against your face. However, despite being unable to completely see him, you can still see his eyes boring holes into your soul.

"And to think you could've gone out with another man," he spits, tone rather harsh before quickening his pace. "Tell me, sweetheart," he pants, "do you think he can fuck you as good as I can?"

You're taken aback by his abrupt question, but you mindlessly respond nonetheless, for your brain has absolutely gone to mush from how good his cock rubs against your velvety walls.

"No! Y-You're better!"

"Yeah? Am I the best fuck you ever had?"

"Yes..! Oh my fucking god!"

"Glad you know, angel," he chuckles, his tattooed hand suddenly flying down to rub fast circles on your sore clit, "because there won't be another dick out there that's half as good as mine."

"Jungkook, I can't," you sob, "t-too much..!"

He snarls, "Oh, you will, angel. I know my pretty girl can do it." His thrusts turn inconsistently sloppy as you feel his cock twitching uncontrollably inside your warmth.

"G-Gonna cum," you faintly whimper, your hands frantically ruffle the sheets, for you're at a loss on what to grip.

"Tell me you're mine," Jungkook pants, placing his forehead against yours, increasing the level of intimacy between you.

Your breath hitches from the proximity. You search for his eyes, and they glow a different appearance: desperation. He searches for yours as well, and your heart freezes momentarily from the passion burning in his irises. You sense him approaching the tip of his high, but he doesn't give in just yet. He needs to hear you confirm his words before everything else, refusing to relish the wrack of pleasure until you provide him the answer he yearns for.

"Tell me you're mine first and I'll let you cum," he swiftly says in one breath, grasping his fingers underneath your chin to graze his lips against yours. You become tongue-tied for a moment, your emotions being tangled up into a messy ball.

But the way he whimpers, oh, so weakly against you has your knees buckling; along with the way his cock is ramming up your cervix creates a cluster of hysteria blocking your rationale.

The only thing you're begging for at the moment is that sweet orgasm Jungkook is about to serve you. Thus, it's no doubt that you'd do anything he says for you for the sake of your breaking point.

You breathe heavily against his lips, your eyes closing in on the tremendous euphoria. "I'm yours."

"One more, baby. I wanna hear you."

"Fuck!" You whimper, his cock showing no signs of remorse on your sensitive g-spot. "I'm yours! Only yours!"

"Atta, girl..." he croons at you, snaking a hand around your neck to restrict the air flowing in your lungs. "This is my pussy, yeah? You're my slut. My good, pretty little whore, hmm? You're mine, sweetheart. I fucking love everything about you that I wanna keep you forever — shit..!"

His speech falters, a high-pitched whine falling off those pretty lips as he hastily pulls out of your throbbing cunt, stroking himself languidly before he releases his load all over your body. Spurts of white cover your abdomen to your leaking cunt. He lets out a guttural groan from the intense orgasm, milking out the last of his remains before collapsing next to you, utterly spent and exhausted. His tattooed arm reaches for the bedside table, pulling on one of the drawers to grab a towelette.

Jungkook props himself up on one elbow as he gently pats down the areas that are covered with his sticky essence. "You did so well for me, sweetheart," he chuckles breathily while cleaning you up.

You, on the other hand, are at a loss for words. Perhaps it's because your voice became worn out from the numerous orgasms he pulled out of you.

Or was it because of the dangerous attachment Jungkook was showing for you?

Whatever it was, you decided to remain silent the entire time, listening in on yours and Jungkook's tranquil breathing combined, chests rising and falling in perfect synchronization as you appreciate the afterglow of a temporary escapade.

Once he's done cleaning you up, he throws the filthy cloth into a nearby bin and pulls the covers over your bare bodies. "Uhm, ___...." he's also the first one to break the silence, looking at you hesitantly while nibbling on his piercing.

You turn your head to him curiously, which is enough for him to know that he has your attention again.

He sighs softly before continuing. "Listen... ever since last time, I really couldn't stop thinking about you. The fact that you left without a word seriously drove me crazy, and all I wanted to do was to have you in my arms again."

Quirking an eyebrow, you gaze at him with widened eyes. You're about to part your lips to say something in response, but he quickly cuts you off.

"I wasn't myself for the past few months, and I know that it was extremely stupid, but I couldn't help it, ___. I genuinely like you. Even if we only encountered each other for a short time, I really wish to ask you out. You don't know how happy I was when I saw you earlier today. I sincerely want to get to know you better, ___, and perhaps take you out more often..."

His confession alone is enough to have your thoughts turn into a messy, tangled ball of threads. Your throat dries as you stare at him with a baffled appearance. Hesitantly, you slowly nod your head at him, unsure of how to process everything at the moment.

However, Jungkook can read you like an open book. He isn't anywhere convinced of your slow response, rather demanding an affirmative answer from your mouth.

"Words, sweetheart. I need words."

Sadness looms in your eyes because of what seems like sincerity in his. If you're honestly speaking, there's nothing stopping you from giving the fine man in front of you a chance and letting him treat you like the queen you are, laying out a red carpet on the ground you walk on as he gives you ecstasy from morning to midnight.

Oh, how unfortunate that your thoughts didn't correlate with your words.

"I'm sorry, Jungkook," you mumble quietly, "I don't think I want to."

Jungkook's expression falls from your answer. "What..?"

You purse your lips nervously. You chose to reject him, but why are you feeling different?

"Is it because I'm always out with other people?" he asks, a frown forming on his lips. "The last person I've been with was you, ___. I told you I wasn't myself after last night between us. You were all that was running through my mind from then until now." You can see the desperate look in his eyes pleading for your approval, but all that comes from you is a shaky sigh as you look away from him.

"I'm sorry. We really can't."

"___, think about it," he frantically says, eyes following you when you abruptly sit up to search for your clothes.

"That's my answer, Jungkook," you reply as you hastily put on each piece of clothing one by one. "I reject your offer."

Before he can utter another word, you quickly fix your appearance as if nothing has ever happened between the two of you.

"___, wait." Jungkook chases for your arm, reaching out to grab it, but you're like water: always running away, never able to touch. You make a beeline towards the exit of his bedroom without ever turning back. You're as scared to leave as much as you are to be with him. You still choose the former, though, storming out the door without another word. Because you're a coward, unable to live on that fast lane with Jungkook.

He lays there defeated, clueless on how to get over the flame you lit up in his heart.

In the end, you left Jungkook smoking out the window as a bitter reminder of your rejection, wondering to himself on how you could do this to him.

After last night, you were the match who lit Jungkook on fire. After this night, you were the wind that blew his burning heart away into ashes.

#bts #bts smut #bangtan #bts x y/n #bts jungkook #jungkook smut #bts x you #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook x original character #jungkook x you #jjk x y/n #jjk imagines #jjk smut #fanfic

[awfcspencer]

Pedals and Promises || alexia putellas x reader

prompt: Teaching your daughter to ride with no training wheels

warnings: none!

The sun hung high in the sky casting a warm glow over the suburban neighborhood where you and Alexia stood at the edge of the sidewalk. Your daughter, Sophia, stood beside her new shiny pink bicycle, her eyes wide with a mixture of excitement and nervousness as she bounced on her toes. 

Your daughter had been begging to the two of you to teach her how to ride her bike without her training wheels for weeks, claiming that she was a big girl, and she no longer needed the extra assistance. This of course sent Alexia into a major panic for two reasons. One, she wasn’t ready to accept that your baby girl was growing up, and two, her brain immediately pictured Sophia’s small body falling off the bike and getting injured. 

You had accompanied Alexia and Sophia to the bike shop where you let her pick out a new helmet and knee pads after Alexia insisted she needed them before she even looked at the bike. She picked out a pink set that matched her bike and boasted about how excited she was to be a big girl, which only hit at Alexia’s heart more. But the additional protection only helped soothe Alexia’s nerves slightly. 

“What if we just wrap her in bubble wrap and tape and place pillows on the sidewalk?” Alexia said on the drive home. She had been ushering out several ideas to help safeguard your daughter from the “grave danger” she was about to be in. You, of course, found her concern adorable, it was something you had experienced through pregnancy and every step of Sophia’s childhood. Alexia was a protector at heart, it was what had even initially attracted you to the midfielder. So as soon as Sophia started rambling about no training wheels, you knew it was going to send your poor wife into a panic.

“Ale, she is six, the worst thing that will happen if she falls off is maybe pavement burn. She will be okay baby.” You tried to calm the brunette, placing your hand on her thigh while she drove. “Plus, we will be right by her side if anything does occur, god forbid.” You peeked to the back of the car where you saw Sophia holding her tiny new helmet in her hands, patiently waiting to arrive home. Her little legs kicked with anticipation as she looked out the window.

She really was a mixture of the two of you, she had a combination of Alexia’s eyes and hair and your nose and mouth. Her beaming personality was all Alexia though. The terrible twos when Sophia first began speaking felt like you were personally raising a little Alexia, her first word not being Mommy or Mama, but instead was “No”. 

“Are you ready for this, Sophia? You can say no if you want and we can go inside and play with dolls or watch television or build a pillow fort,” Alexia asked, crouching down to Sophia’s eye level on the sidewalk, trying to say anything to get her off this deathtrap that Alexia convinced herself it was instead of just a tiny pink bicycle. 

Sophia shook her head, her small hands gripping the handlebars tightly. “I am a big girl. I want to ride with no wheels, Mommy!” She stomped her left foot on the ground as she began to get impatient at Alexia’s attempts to get her off the bike.

You couldn’t help but smile at the scene, feeling a mix of pride and excitement. Sophia had been eagerly awaiting this day, it was all she had spoken about the past few days. Alexia had been busy with training and you with work, so today was the first day the two of you had time to teach her.

“You know she gets her determination from you Ale.” Placing a soft hand on Alexia’s tense shoulders as you moved to Sophia’s other side. “Okay, sweetie, remember what we practiced,” you reminded her, adjusting her helmet to ensure it was secure. You of course took safety just as seriously as the next person, but you were firm in the fact that this was not a hazard nor dangerous activity, it was just a bike after all. 

Sophia nodded. “I remember, Mama. Keep my eyes forward and my feet on the pedals.”

“That’s right,” Alexia chimed in, giving Sophia an encouraging smile that tried to mask the sheer panic she felt. “And if you feel wobbly, just keep pedaling. You’ve got this.” You both placed a kiss on both sides of her cheeks and Alexia took her hand off the back of the seat that she had placed a death grip on incase for any reason Sophia changed her mind. 

With Sophia’s confidence bolstered by your words of encouragement, she took a deep breath and pushed off from the sidewalk, her tiny feet pedaling furiously beneath her. Her head stationed upwards to help keep her balance. 

“You’re doing great, Sophia!” You called out, watching her with pride. “See Ale, I told you that she would be fine.” Turning your attention to the Spaniard who was watching your daughter like a hawk, eager to make a quick move if things went even slightly sideways.

“Yeah maybe I was a bit overdramatic.” She told you as she pulled you in to be flush to her chest while the two of you watched Sophia ride. She placed her head in the crook of your neck and shoulder, relaxing for a minute as all of her efforts to ensure safety now seemed over-the-top.

“A bit?” You joked with the brunette as you placed a soft kiss on her cheek. You quickly pulled out your phone to record the accomplishment to look back on when Sophia grows up and show all of your friends and family of your big girl. 

But just as Sophia began to gain speed, her bike hit a bump in the pavement, causing her to lose her balance. With a loud yelp, she tumbled off the bike and landed in a heap on the ground. You and Alexia both quickly ran to her aid.

Sophia’s face crumbled with disappointment as she sat up, rubbing her now scraped hand. “Ow… That hurt.” Luckily, her knee pads had done their job and now just had a few rips in the fabric. You knew she hadn’t hit her head, so you were sure she just gained a few scratches from the sidewalk.

Alexia and you knelt down beside her, concern etched on the midfielder’s eyes as she scanned Sophia’s whole body for even a shimmer of an injury. You were sure that she would probably go as far as calling an ambulance for a simple case of road rash. She would do anything to ensure your daughter was okay and safe.

“Are you okay, sweetie?” You asked, gently brushing a tear from her cheek. You helped assist her up and brushed her off.

Sophia nodded, her lower lip trembling. “I think so. But I don’t want to ride my bike anymore.” She inched farther from her bike into Alexia’s arms as her tears stopped. 

You sent Alexia a knowing glance before she pulled Sophia into a comforting hug. To Sophia, Alexia was like a superhero, and you knew if anyone was going to be able to get Sophia back on the bike, it would be her. Your daughter and Alexia had a very special, close-knit relationship, they really were two peas in a pod, and you knew your daughter looked up to the footballer.

“It’s okay to be scared Sophia. Just like how I was scared of you riding your bike with no training wheels, but you did do it sweetie and you made me not scared anymore. Falling down is just part of learning. You’ll get back up and try again, and we’ll be right here to help you every step of the way.” Alexia tried to convince your daughter to get back on the bike.

You nodded in agreement as Sophia looked at you, offering her a reassuring smile. “That’s right, sweetheart. And hey, how about we go get ice cream to make you feel better?” Ice cream was always the way to make any toddler feel better in any situation and usually it was always Alexia who suggested the sweet treat, but you took the chance to be good cop for a little bit.

Sophia’s eyes lit up at the suggestion, her tears quickly forgotten. “Ice cream? Really?” Looking between the two of you for conformation of the dessert.

Alexia chuckled softly, ruffling Sophia’s hair affectionately. “Absolutely. It is the perfect treat after a tough fall.”

With Sophia’s spirits lifted by the promise of ice cream, she made her way back onto the bike and peddled off. This time she was able to keep balance and even managed to make a sharp turn as she rode back to where you and Alexia were stood. 

“Good job sweetie.” Your wife cooed to your daughter as she made her way off the bike, lifting her high in the sky and spinning her around to celebrate the accomplishment.

“I did it Mama!” Sophia beamed to you with a big grin as Alexia set her down. Her brown eyes were big, and they looked so much like Alexia’s, which only warmed your heart more. The two people who owned your heart stood right in front of you.

“Yes you did baby, and we are so, so proud of you.” You grabbed Alexia and Sophia and pulled them both in for a tight family group hug. Wrapping her arms firm around your girls and giving both of them a peck on the cheek.

As the three of you made your way to a local ice cream parlor that was just a few minute walk from your home, Sophia chattered excitedly about all the flavors she wanted to try. You and Alexia listened to her ramble, intertwining your hands as the two of you walked just slightly behind your energetic daughter. It was a warm summer night, and you were simply basking in the moment and the warmth with your amazing wife and growing daughter.

Once inside the cozy shop, you settled into a booth after ordering all of your favorite flavors. As the group of you savored your sweet treats, Sophia smiled brighter than ever. Her tears and sadness were now replaced with a soft grin. 

“Thanks, Mommy and Mama,” she said, beaming at us from across the table. “I feel much better now.” She had ice cream all over her face and fingers but neither of you really cared much, letting her just enjoy eating the treat. 

“I knew you would sweetie.” You told her as you and Alexia shared a knowing glance, feeling grateful for small moments like these in the business of Alexia’s football schedule and your hectic work life sometimes. 

As you and Alexia tucked Sophia in her bed for the night, she mumbled out, “Can we ride my bike tomorrow?” Her voice was laced with sleep, definitely tired out from the day. 

“Of course we can baby.” You both told her as Alexia placed a kiss on her nose before her exhausted eyes fell shut. Your little girl was growing up day by day right before your eyes.

"She's getting so big," Alexia said in a whisper as you both stared at her little chest rising up and down.

"I know, it makes me sad to think of it. But each day she grows, she becomes smarter and wiser. Each day she becomes a little more of each of us."

Alexia simply hugged you from behind as she interlocked your hands as the two of you watched like a guardian angel over your beloved daughter.

#woso x reader #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso one shot #woso blurbs #woso soccer #alexia putellas x y/n #alexia putellas x reader #alexia x reader #alexia putellas #woso

[dead-dove-yandere]

You’d heard about crazy fans, even seen a few of your bandmates on the receiving end of some concerning letters, but you never thought it might happen to you.

TW: Stalking, unhealthy parasocial relationship, harassment

♡ - You see countless fans at meet and greets and it’s impossible to remember them all, even if you make an effort. When some girl named Laura comes around, she’s nervous, trembling, chewing her nails. She can barely stammer out a greeting.

♡ - Hi. My name’s - my name is, erm. I’m… I’m Laura.”

♡ - You give her a sympathetic smile. It’s nothing you aren’t used to - in fact your manager ensures you and all your fellow idol bandmates are coached on how to deal with nervous fans.

♡ - You greet her, tell her it’s so nice to meet her, thank her for all her support. Nothing special, just what you tell every fan. Yet her eyes seem to light up, as her face goes red with a fierce blush. Security ushers her along, and she’s gone. You’ve forgotten all about her by the time the next person in the queue comes along.

♡ - And it would have stayed that way if she hadn’t come back.

♡ - Several fans later, you’re surprised to see her in the queue again. She’s just as nervous before, maybe even more so, and she’s wringing her hands.

♡ - She looks as though she’s about to burst into tears.

♡ - You chuckle and make a joke to try and cheer her up. “Back so soon?” You ask her, to which she gives you another nervous smile.

♡ - But there’s something off about it - too much teeth in her grin, her eyes too wide.

♡ - She says something to you, but it’s incomprehensible. You politely nod and try to rush her along, feeling the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end.

♡ - You see Laura a third time that night just as you are leaving. She’s sobbing and begging a security guard to be let in somewhere. Your manager ushers you away quickly.

♡ - It’s weeks afterwards and slowly you have put the strange occurrence out of your mind. These things happen - overzealous fans aren’t uncommon.

♡ - You sit down to open some of your fanmail, and scan over the first letter you pick up, freezing when you see the name underneath - Laura.

♡ - Thinking perhaps it’s just a creepy coincidence you open another, then another, then another.

♡ - Hundreds, all in the same writing, with the same colour ink, all signed Laura.

♡ - The postmarks on the envelopes show that many were posted the same day. Some are short, some are longer, yet all of them amount to the same message. You pick up the first letter again, this time reading it properly, your stomach twisting with nausea.

♡ - “I’m sorry I was a coward and couldn’t confess my love for you at the meet and greet. I was so nervous seeing you again. But I shan’t give up. We’ll find each other again soon. - Laura xxx”

Dividers Credit: See Pinned Post

#yandere #yandere imagines #yandere fic #yandere x darling #yandere drabble #yancore #yandere oc x reader #yandere x reader #female yandere #female yandere x darling #female yandere oc x reader #female yandere oc #yandere oc #yandere x you #Laura #gender neutral reader #tw stalking #stalker #stalking #tw stalker #Story