#where’s 4€ wine when you need it

[marcsburnerphone]

And they were roommates

(Captain John price x F!reader)

Summary: the captain wants somewhere more homely to settle down and when an offer like yours comes alight on Zillow he must take up on it.

Warnings: angsty (minimal), john being slightly troubled, alcohol, reader being slightly embarrassing.

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5!! -part 6

—————-

You wake up to the sun softly beaming in your room. Limbs stretching beyond the covers. You look around a little confused as to when you got back in your bedroom. Then it all came together. John, John leaves today.

You get out of the covers leaving your bedroom hoping he’s still there but of course to your disappointment he’s gone. You head to the kitchen knowing at least there will be a note. 

Good morning doll, I thought of waking you but decided against it, though I might regret it. The movie was good, you seemed to really be enjoying it also:) Here's the phone number of a friend in case any problems arise. Next time I’m back I hope to see another painting - John 

(xxx-xxx-xxxx) - nick

You stare at it trying not to let your emotions get the best of you. So you fold it and put it in the kitchen drawer. Although John was an awfully quiet roommate you could feel the weight of his absence. The cold floor beneath your feet has grown warm for how long you’ve stood there. You make your way towards the front door deciding that an iced coffee and a long drive with music will rid you of this feeling you can’t decipher it feels like want but in a way it’s also need but what is it you want and need? Not even you could answer that question.

Long story short you think it made the feeling intensify.

————-

1 month in

You’ve booked your schedule full leaving not an ounce of time for yourself. From the morning till night you had clients which were good for money but really it was a distraction for your mind. That same feeling felt like it was running into new veins every day seemingly consuming you. 

You tried to start a new painting but something was off about the color scheme and it was a waste not only of time but material and energy. You wonder how John is.

————-

2 months in

No problems have arisen since he’s been gone. It's like the house knows you’ll call the expensive plumber instead of John’s friend. 

However you have started a painting you are beginning to like. It’s a mix of hues you’ve never used before blues and oranges, a flame. You don’t know where or why the idea came to you but it’s what you wanted so you started it. A single candle is the outline, and the surrounding of it is the orange yellowish aura of a flame. You tried making ratatouille the other day and although it was good you wished it was made out of pepperonis like your childhood mind had imagined. You forgot there was no longer anyone to finish left overs so you ate it for three days straight.

Also you bought a new rug.

————-

3 months in

You’ve begun putting the final laminate on the painting. It’s taken you far longer than it would’ve if you hadn’t accepted 15 new clients. Not that you mind anyways. 

You’re also a little ambivalent to the idea of John paying for 6 months of rent when he doesn’t even live here during it. 

Besides that life seems stagnant and you’ve begun to lock your bedroom door at night again. 

————

4 months in

The painting now hangs a foot away from where the other one in front of John’s door does. It’s a beautiful contrast and really you were overjoyed at the outcome. You also randomly decided it’d be a good idea one night after too much wine to order new furniture for the outside deck. When it arrived you were one in disbelief of all the building pieces and and two excited to have something more to do. 

You should've stayed up the night John left.

————

5 months in  

Redecorating the deck wasn’t enough change. You needed a makeover physically but couldn’t decide how. Maybe a tattoo? No. New makeup? No. How about a haircut?  Fuck it, yes. 

So you did just that, you got a few almost unnoticeable highlights and chopped a good amount off. After the fact you were obsessed. Was it impulsive and could it have gone so horribly wrong, yes. But did it? No. 

———

6 months in 

John’s still not back and it’s all you could think about. What if something happened to him? What if he wasn’t coming back? You worried yourself sick so much so you physically became sick. 

You waited week by week for anything, maybe he’s back on base but just hasn’t come back home yet. But something was telling you it was more than that. 

———-

7 months in 

At this point worrying wasn’t going to make him appear. Your hobbies have now turned into distractions. So tonight you sit in the living room with a glass of wine and watch another rom com. You’re as comfy as can be in this cold brutal weather. It stays below 30 degrees Fahrenheit during this time of year and the snow bites at any unclothed skin. 

You fall asleep to the small hum of the heater while on the couch. Thick blanket thrown across you and tv playing as background chatter. 

You don’t know when you wake but it’s still dark outside when you hear someone that sounds distressed. Your groggy mind isn’t processing that the sound is coming from inside the house. But when it does you're up in a second looking around as your eyes try to adjust to the darkness. 

“Fuck!” You hear from down the hall. John’s room.

You walk quietly towards it as he continues to chant that word. Suddenly it falls silent and you just hear what sounds to be deep breaths. You don’t know what wills you to knock, but you do. 

“John, are you okay?” You ask softly from behind the closed door. He doesn’t respond but you know he’s in there from the quiet but quick breathing. 

“No.” He says with that familiar deep drawl.

You open the door slowly to see him sitting on the floor near the corner of his bed clearly distressed. You take notice of the mess wondering how you slept through the making of it. There’s glass from somewhere on the floor and clothes strewn but when you look at him your heart breaks. He’s in full uniform, vest on, belt with equipment on, as if he didn’t stop anywhere. Just came straight here. His hair has grown out to an odd length and his beard has grown longer. 

“I can’t get this fucking vest off.” He interrupts your thoughts looking at you with a sense of sorrow. You kneel to where he is careful to avoid glass. His eyes don’t glance up to meet yours; they stay fixated on his hands that are covered in dirt.

“May I?” You gesture towards the plastic buckles on the vest. He nods and you start with the two at his shoulders. Then you reach down his chest to undo the two near his belt buckle. You realize it must be connected somewhere in the back when it doesn’t come off. He leans forwards as you look trying to avoid the bloodstains that taint the once green vest and sure enough the tiniest but mightiest buckle is on the center of his lower back. He shrugs it off with a sigh. 

“Better?” You ask softly.

“Yeah, Thankyou.” He slowly tilts his head back to lean on the comforter and you don’t move an inch. 

“What can I do?” Truthfully you’ve never been in a situation so unbearably awkward but so unwilling to just leave.

“Just sit here with me.” So you do. You scoot right next to him and lean your head on his shoulder. He couldn’t admit it but the nights he slept in cold frost biting weather the thought of returning to your warm presence got him through.

“He almost died.” His voice gives out at the end of that sentence.

“Who?” 

“Johnny, it would’ve been my fault. One second later and they would’ve put a bullet through his skull.”

“But he’s okay?” You know John loves his team even though he doesn’t outwardly say it.

“He’s perfectly fine.” 

“Worrying about what could’ve been will kill you.” 

“Sometimes I feel like that’s what I deserve for some of the things I’ve done.” 

“If not you it would be someone else making the world a better place.” 

“I know.” 

You sit there with him for a while in silence. He can barely believe he made it back alive but right now the battle feels worth it. He hears soft snores not too long later and realizes you’ve fallen back to sleep. His head leans to rest above yours as he closes his eyes. He knows sleep won’t come to him but he’s never had you this close and for now he’ll cherish it.

————-

When you woke up again the sun had risen and a golden glow lit John’s room. 

“John.” You whisper trying not to move your head in case he’s sleeping.

“Yeah doll.” He lifts his head to look at you.

“I’m so sorry.” You feel slightly embarrassed and bad that you just fell asleep on him.

“Nothing to be sorry for.” He sighs before standing on his feet with a groan then offering you hand to help you up.

“I’m going to shower.” He says as you dust yourself off.

“After can I give you a haircut?” He laughs a little at your not so subtle realization of his long hair..

“If you’d like.” 

“I’d love.” You say before leaving, assuring him you’d be back when he's done.

You pick up your mess from the previous night. Folding your blanket and putting it back in the basket near the couch. Taking your wine glass to the sink and rinsing it out. You go to your room and change into an outfit for the day and do your morning routine. After you grab your shears, clippers and cape. By the time you're done doing all of this you no longer hear the water running meaning John’s done with his shower. You knock on his door lightly.

“Come in.” You walk in to see him sweeping up his mess with the small house broom and can’t help but smile at the sight. 

“Come on, let's cut your hair in the bathroom, better lighting and you can see what I’m doing.” You say heading straight there. You sit him on the little bathroom bar stool that’s been in there since your ex moved out. Once he’s sitting the only cape you have is pink so you throw it on him begging yourself to not laugh which you fail causing him to smirk. 

“Okay so I’m just gonna clean it up, fade the sides a very little, cut the top with shears and what not.” You let him know.

“You cut your hair?” He replies, staring at you through the mirror.

“Yeah so?” You smile.

“I like it, it looks good.” You feel that feeling only johns been able to provoke.

“Thankyou.” You begin the cut, slowly combing out sections making sure to be precise. He seems far more relaxed than you’d imagined as you just freely cut at the top. After the matter once you're satisfied you shave the sides a little just enough to where it looks cleaner. 

“Can I do your beard and mustache?” 

“You're the hairstylist, not me?” Is all he says. 

So you do, very carefully, mere inches away from his face your hands hold one side of his jaw softly to trim the other side. He watches your expression intently. The way when you’re focused there’s a crease that forms between your eyebrows and your pupils blow a little wide.

“All done.”  You say pulling him from his trance. You move his face with your hands really checking to make sure all is well.

“Very handsome.” You compliment before turning around to rinse your shears and put them away. 

“Thank You doll.” He says examining it himself in the mirror thoroughly pleased with how well you did even though he knows you don’t cut men’s hair. He doesn’t notice you grab his beard oil from the cabinet till you're smoothing it between your hands and asking him to face you so you can rub it through the coarse brown hair. Ever the nurturer.

It feels like time apart only made you two feel closer somehow. Or maybe it’s because you wanted to be close and those feelings were equally reciprocated. 

The rest of that day John had loads of paperwork to file, sign and report. So he did that, he sat in his office for long hours going through the process. The only thing that slightly lightened this burden was your voice humming in the kitchen as you cooked something. You’d stopped by and offered him some which he gladly accepted from your giving hands. Hours later you bid him a goodnight and went to bed and even then he had so much more left.

—————

The next day you catch John in the kitchen and tell him there’s something you must show him.

“So you built it all yourself?” He says as you show him your little project you did outside. There’s a thick coat wrapped around you as you don’t fully step outside to avoid slipping on the icy ground. Him though, he stands on it with no problem in what looks like military issued boots. 

“Yes I did.” You say proudly despite his clear disdain.

“I missed you, even your stubbornness.” After the months John’s been through there was no point in hiding the way he was feeling.

“I missed you too.” You smile while clearly avoiding his gaze.

How had he missed this all along?

“Would you like to go out for drinks?”

“What?” You turn around to meet his eyes.

“Can I take you out for drinks?” What being mere inches away from death does to a man.

“Yeah.” 

-

You both silently walk away trying to break the bounds of the tense pull that makes you want to gravitate towards each other. You put on something cute but also warm and slip on some brown doc martens as your choice of shoe. You do light makeup as you give yourself a pep talk.

“Only two drinks, only two drinks.” You have to tell yourself cause after two your too you. 

You hear John putting his shoes on by the hallway and take in the sight of him, brown leather jacket and beanie. You’re not sure how he’s going to stay warm in that but something tells you he will.

“Ready?” He asks and you nod nervously.

-

“Okay, hold on, I have to do this really slow or I’ll fall.” You say stepping slowly out onto the ground below the porch stairs. 

“Well come here I’ll help you.” He offers his hand. You grab it softly, swooning at the way it encompasses your own. There’s something inside of him that doesn’t even want you to risk walking on this floor but of course he also doesn’t want to push. 

“Okay nice and slow.” You’re not even taking full steps, just small slides. You clutch his hand for dear life and he loves it. 

“Good girl.” He says once you reach the door of his truck which he opens for you. He doesn’t let go till you sit inside then only does he slip his hand from your warm one and closes the door. 

“Which pub?” You ask as he turns on the heater only for your sake.

“The one downtown near the little Italian grocer.” You know exactly which one he’s talking about. Its dim light atmosphere is cozy but fun but usually full of mainly couples.

“Mkay.” You say looking out the window at the gloomy sky realizing it just might rain. 

He glances your way during the small drive, your scent of your floral perfume mixed with his of cardamom and musk is quite perfect. 

“You alright?” He asks.

“Yeah, just comfy, you?” He grins at your response.

“Never been better.”

He pulls into one of the street parking spots and despite the weather the streets are full, he gets out to put coins inside the slot for time before heading to your side of the car. 

“Wait, I'm scared.” You say realizing that the distance to the bar doesn’t seem to be a survivable one. 

“Come on, I'll hold your hand.”

“I’ll fall regardless.”

“Want me to carry you?” He genuinely offers.

“What?” You laugh. 

“Doll I’m very serious I will carry you, just get on my back.”

“What if we both fall?” 

“I’m not falling, trust me.” He says turning around motions for you to get on his back.

“Okay then.” You hook your legs around his upper waist and his arms reach to tuck themselves firmly beneath your knees.

“Comfortable?” He asks. He’s sure you can hear his heart racing from the proximity you’re in. 

“Very.” All your dreams of climbing this man have come true. 

You shut the door as he steps onto the sidewalk. You tuck your chin in by his neck for warmth. He smells woodsy with a hint of musk, it makes your head spin.

“How are you not slipping?” You say very suspicious.

“Doll I could run on this floor with these boots on.” He answers looking slightly over his shoulder at you.

“Well don’t.” You say seriously and he laughs as he approaches the bar, opening the door and setting you softly on the floor. 

He finds you both a booth in the corner and sits on the side where he can see the entire bar, very John of John.

“What do you drink?” He asks, trying to make conversation. Suddenly the air feels very intimate, almost too intimate for what he considers his old man heart.

“When I’m out, martinis.” 

“Espresso?” 

“Mhmm.” You’re trying your hardest to hold the eye contact he’s giving you but something about the blue in his eyes and creases on the side of them has you breaking it quicker than it started.

“I’ll be back then.” He says sliding out of the booth feeling slightly accomplished.

You sit there looking at the lively pub, how many romances are at their peak here, how many friends are having the best night of their lives, how you amongst them are finally feeling like you again. 

“Here we are.” He says returning with two glasses, his is a classic bourbon with a square ice cube in the glass.

“Thankyou.” You say as he slides it over to you.

“So what’d you do while I was gone, other than be reckless and build furniture.” He asks as you sip from your glass.

“I did lots of hair, painted a bit, found new color schemes for decor and that’s kinda it, I’d ask you the same question but I fear you can’t answer.” 

“Your fears are true.”

“That Kate woman, she's very pretty.” Are you a little jealous?

“Yeah she’s also very married.” He says it like he doesn’t know what you're on about.

“And also not into men.” You nearly choke on your drink and swallow hard to get it down.

“Well I was just saying.” Sure you were.

You two have small chatter as you go through drinks. You tried to offer the second round but John said no for you to just stay in your seat. He came back with thirds and you definitely were starting to feel the effects of the previous two, him though not at all.

“So you’re telling me John you as very um good looking as you are haven’t had a girlfriend in how long?” 

“Eight years.” He says while being very amused with your light hearted, open attitude.

“That’s just not right.”

“No?” 

“No, personally, well never mind.” You’re not drunk enough to say what you were about too.

“What about you, why no boyfriends?” 

“I’m very, I would say needy I guess clingy even, I’m a double texter, someone who worries and loves too much and I think that can be overwhelming for a lot of people.” You admit.

“Don’t believe that.” He says, sounding a little annoyed.

“For the right person you could never be overwhelming.” He says looking at you intensely and this time you can’t seem to look away.

Once your third drink is finished it’s raining outside and you’re words away from trouble.

“John?” 

“Yeah doll.”

“You make me feel alive again.” You admit, the alcohol has casted a pretty shade of pink on your cheeks as you lean your head on your hand and John doesn’t think he’s ever been more entranced. 

“You and me both, here drink some water.” He slides it to you. You’re sweet, too sweet. He feels like if he touches you physically or emotionally he’d be tainting art.

“Has anyone told you you're very climbable?” 

“It’s time for us to get going, you're quite the light weight.” He laughs offering you a hand as you slide off the booth.

He leaves a tip on the table before walking with you to the door. He has to bend far more than he normally would for you to secure yourself on his back before he’s walking outside. This time he’s walking faster because of the rain droplets that are falling hard. He seats you in the car and reaches across you to buckle you in before heading to his side. 

The drive home is pretty quiet, he drives extra slowly because of the precious cargo he carries. Once he pulls back into the gravelly drive way you unbuckle and open the door as he puts the car in park. 

“You don’t want to wait for me.” He asks, a little concerned.

“I got this.” You hop out of the elevated truck immediately slipping and having to grab onto the door. He walks quickly to your side laughing at the expression on your face.

“You sure do.” He says as he grabs your arm

“Oh stop it.” You say accepting the help, sliding your feet on the ice again till you get to the door. Once you get inside you groan into the toasty air. 

“Thankyou for tonight John.” You say facing him once you kick your boots off. You hadn’t realized how close you were till you turned around and could feel the heat radiating off of him and smell the bourbon on his breath. 

“No, thank you.” He says feeling awfully captivated, hanging onto your every move. You cup his face and stand on your tippy toes, boldly yet slowly placing a kiss on the corner of his lips. 

He’s starstruck. Absolutely dazed at the look of mischief in your eyes, something that tells him you know exactly what you’re doing to him. 

“Goodnight John.” You say patting his chest and walking down towards your room.

—————

I couldn't wait till tommorrow i'm sorry.

comments and reposts are greatly appreciated:)

@beebeechaos @ttsbaby01 @arminarlertssword @quakeroaksguy @rafaelacallinybbay @bumblebeesfromvenus @glitterypirateduck @midnights-song @spyderdoll @lovelythingsinternal @fruitymoonbeams-blog @kkaaaagt @kit-williams @enfppixie @kythefangirl25 @eviltheleon @here4thespice @dclore22 @raethethey @waves-against-a-cliff @novausstuff @darling006 @vampirekilmerfic @dreams-of-qian-qian @spngingerbread21 @thepumpkinqueen93 @copiasratscheese @youdontknowe

#angst #captain price x female reader #john price #barry sloane #captain john price #john price x reader #task force 141 #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley

[theaceace]

An old concept that I'm still feral over, but a Dreamling fic in which the dreamling relationship is chronicled entirely by Yelp reviews of the New Inn.

Reviews are either 5* or 1* with surprisingly little in between, and the business owner replies are always a riot. They start off fairly normal, talking about the food and drink, the couple of guest rooms upstairs, the location and prices etc, but then they start to get weird.

Constantine leaves 3*, beer is shit whiskey is ok not haunted which is more than I can say for most london pubs and the response is Thanks Jo, but you're still banned

4* this place is run by my history professor and it's amazing but he asked me about my overdue essay three times so I can't give it 5* and Hob, who has had multiple students visit the pub for the sole purpose of doing this, is just like you still haven't submitted that, get off yelp and start citing your sources

There are multiple 5* reviews like would give 10* if i could, the owner chased off a neo nazi with a literal sword he pulled out from behind the bar

5* should probably give it less because a couple of times the answers to the history round on the monthly quiz night have been wrong, but otherwise it's a solid little place for a reasonably priced pint and a nice afternoon and Hob's response is just those answers were right

And then Dream comes back and the reviews start... Changing, a bit

One of the 1* reviews is just complaining about the fact that there was a bird at the bar and no one got rid of it and the reply from Hob is that's Matthew, he has a tab. Several of the 5* reviews are also about the fact that sometimes there's a bird in the bar

One of the 5* reviews is saw the most beautiful goth twink in the world, will definitely be going back and Hob nearly deletes that one. The reply instead is that's my boyfriend, unlike Matthew he never pays his tab

5* i have no idea how i got there or found the place because i swaer i was halfway across london from where google maps says it is but anyway the bartender was really great and understandig when I started crying on him, will defiantely go back if reality ever warps like that again. Response from owner: yeah sorry about the reality warping, we don't get it either

1* I only wish I could have given this establishment a glowing review – fabulous service, lovely food and a sumptuous wine I hadn't expected, but unfortunately I had to see my brother's face. Response from owner: Desire get off the internet, it doesn’t need your help

#sandman #dreamling #hob gadling #dream of the endless #the new inn

[helen-with-an-a]

I am an adult

Hi. So, this is an idea that I've been working on. I hope you enjoy it. <3

Barca Femeni x Reader

Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3 : Part 3.5 : Part 4

TW: none

Word Count: 3.4k

Description: R is tired of being treated like a child

Being the youngest in the club by quite some years when you first join the club is hard. You were 15 when you put pen to paper, debuting for your national team at 16. You automatically inherited about 40 big sisters at club and country, with all their wisdom, love, and overprotectiveness. It was adorable … at first. You couldn’t fault them for their heart. You knew they meant well. But you were ready to strangle them by the time you turned 18. You had been given offers from all over the world as your contract ended. It was a difficult choice to leave your team; most of them you considered family. But it wasn’t a difficult choice to sign for Barcelona.

You had hoped that as you left your home and started a new chapter in life, you could prove that you weren’t a child anymore. But it quickly became apparent that that wasn’t the case. Alexia hovered, Lucy fussed, Marta fretted, and Irene worried. You had originally moved in with Alexia, which was lovely initially. She helped you organise the parts of your life that were new to you – organising your weekly shopping list, helping manage your finances, and coordinating your schedules. But as the years went by, you think she forgot that you were no longer the barely legal adult who needed help with many things. You think they all forgot.

The first incident that made you slightly pissed off was in the changing rooms. The music was loud, and you were too busy grinding on Pina to notice the looks from Lucy and Marta. You were celebrating another spectacular win, you scoring a hat trick and Patri and Salma scoring braces. You had taken your sweaty shirt off and swung it around your head as you turned to press yourself against Bruna, all 3 of you laughing as you ran your hands down your body, shaking your hips sensually. As the song ended, you were all in fits of laughter, clutching your stomachs and breathing hard.

“Where did you learn to dance like that?” Ona asked, her arms wrapping around your waist as you slung an arm around her shoulders.

“Oh, shut up. You’ve seen me dance plenty of times,” You joked as you kissed her forehead.

“You’ve been out dancing?” Lucy asked. She didn’t like the sound of that. You were too young to go out.

“Yeh, we went out a few weeks ago,” Ona told her.

“Who is we?” Alexia frowned.

“Um … me, Ona, Patri, Pina, Jana, Bruna, Esmee, Aitana,” you rattled off their names, counting them on your fingers as you went. Basically, it was all the young ones who could legally drink. It had been an entertaining night. No one was telling you to calm it down. No one breathed down your neck as you chatted to random strangers. No one was hovering. It was fantastic. You had spent most of the next day with your head over the toilet and feeling very sorry for yourself. But it was worth it. You wouldn’t let them dampen your spirits over that night. Lucy was frowning hard; Alexia also gave an angry glare. “What?” You asked, confused about why you were having disapproving scowls sent your way.

“You’re too young,” Lucy said as she turned away. You huffed, muttering under your breath as you headed to the showers. You were starting to get irritated with their behaviour.

The second time they made you angry was when you stumbled home from a night-in with Pina and Patri. You had chatted away the evening over good food and wine. It was a lovely night, bringing you even closer to the pair of best friends. What you hadn’t been aware of, however, was Lucy and Alexia, and Marta, and Caro, and Paños, and Irene. They all blew up your phone, asking where you were and what you were doing. Alexia had asked Lucy to come over as she noticed you looked a little less like yourself. You were acting short with her, not really acknowledging her when she gave her (unwanted) input on what you were doing and with whom you were doing it. She had hoped that Lucy could help you navigate what was going on. As Alexia opened your bedroom door, without knocking – once again – she was met with a slightly messy but very empty room with a pile of clothes on the floor near the hamper. She must tell you that you need to do your washing.

“Lucy,” Alexia had called out in a panic. You weren’t anywhere else in the house. She didn’t know where you were. She had promised your parents all those years ago that she would look after you. “She’s gone. She’s not here. She’s missing. Should we phone the police?” She grew more and more desperate with every passing moment.

“Right. Calm down, alright? She couldn’t have gone far. She can’t drive,” she was wrong – you could drive; you even had your own car, but the older team members refused to let you go anywhere without them or let you behind the wheel if they were in the car. “Let’s check her location, yeh?” You had asked her repeatedly to delete the app from her phone. She had ignored your wishes, telling you that due to your age, someone should always know your whereabouts. “See, she’s at Patri’s. She’s fine.” The pair took calming breaths together. As the hours ticked by and it seemed like you were making no appearance any time soon, more people were called to come and wait for you. First, it was Marta and Caro and then Paños after another hour and finally Irene after another 2. It was 3 am when you stumbled into the house, slightly wine-drunk but more or less sober.

“What time do you call this?” Alexia’s voice called out from the shadows. It was angry; you didn’t need to see her face to know that her signature glare was etched on it.

“Oh, I didn’t think you’d be awake,” you commented, moving into the kitchen and flicking the lights on as you went. You jumped slightly as you were faced with four other women, all of whom were in similar states of anger and disapproval. "Jesus Christ. What did you do? Throw a party or something?”

“A search party more like. You snuck out.” Irene commented, folding her arms over her chest and giving you her best Mum look.

“Is it really sneaking out if I leave through the front door?” you countered, filling a glass with water and looking in the medicine box under the sink. “Do we have any paracetamol?” you asked absentmindedly, not quite realising just how angry the group was.

“Why do you need paracetamol, kid?” Lucy asked, knowing the answer already but not wanting the confirmation.

“Oh, I had a few drinks with Patri and Pina. Wanna have them in my room with some water for tomorrow if I need them,” you said, letting out a small ‘aha’ when you found the medicine you were looking for.

“You’ve been drinking?” Marta screeched.

“Yeh?” You drew out the word, slightly too tipsy for this conversation.

“What? That’s it, you’re grounded. For-” Alexia stormed forwards.

“You can’t ground me, Alexia,” you said incredulously, standing up and facing her. You may be younger, but you were slightly taller than her. “I’m not a child.”

“How da-” she started, raising her voice at you. You held up a hand, cutting her off. You were mightily fed up with her behaviour as of late. You clicked your teeth.

“I’m going to bed.” You sighed, pushing past the group standing in the hallway and stomping up the stairs.

“Don’t you dare slam your-” She shouted but was cut off by a harsh slam.

By the third time, you were ready to scream. Or commit murder. You weren’t too fussed – whichever got them to stop. After the night with Patri and Pina, Alexia tried to ban you from doing anything outside of training. You had raised one eyebrow at her and walked straight out the door. She was shocked, to say the least. Where was this attitude coming from? She had been nothing but nice to you, helping you out when she thought you needed it and offering advice when you looked a little stressed. She had had enough of your door slamming and locking the door. So, she did the only thing she could think of. You walked back into the house with Ona by your side, chatting away about the coffee shop you wanted to try. You could hear the faint whirring of power tools coming from upstairs. It was a known fact that Alexia hated building flat-pack furniture, so you went to investigate – beckoning for Ona to follow, thinking it would be funny to see the disaster that Alexia was making. The sight that met you had you screaming and shouting. Alexia was taking your bedroom door off its hinges.

“What the fuck?” You shouted, anger your dominant emotion.

“Language!” She said calmly as she finished with the final nail.

“Seriously, what the actual fuck, Alexia? You’re taking my door off?”

“Sí. You kept slamming it. I told you not to slam the door. And it’s not your door. It’s mine. I own the house.”

“In that case, when do you want me to move out? Can I have a few hours to pack?” She scoffed, thinking you were bluffing. You were most certainly not bluffing. You looked over to Ona, standing at the top of the stairs, slightly embarrassed at witnessing the clearly private situation.

“You are too young to move out, cariño. Once you learn to respect those who are trying to help you, I’ll put the door back on,” she said simply, pushing the door onto its side and moving past you. “Hi, Ona,” she said sweetly.

You immediately gathered up a suitcase full of clothes and forced Ona to take you to her place. Spending time in an environment where you weren’t treated as a child only grew your resentment towards others. You loved being treated as the adult that you were. You spent a few nights with Ona before moving to Patri’s and Pina’s. You had ignored all the older girls' efforts to talk to you. They still muttered and moaned about how you weren’t old enough and that they were only trying to help, to do what was best for you. Eventually, you decided you needed your own place – sleeping on couches and pull-out beds was not good for your body.

“Um, I just wanted to let you know I’m moving out. Officially.” You approached Alexia one morning in the gym. It had been about a month, and you still hadn’t returned to her house. Everyone’s anger had been building up slowly.

“No. Absolutely not.” Alexia shut you down immediately.

“Ale,” you sighed. This wasn’t Alexia’s choice. You had already found a place nearer to the training centre. It was cute with old, patterned tiled flooring and exposed brick.

“No. You're too young to live by yourself.” You sighed, not willing to argue about this again.

“Ale, I … I’ve already got a place. I’ve put a deposit down already. I am moving out,” you sheepishly. The look of horror on her face was laughable. You would have thought you said you were skinning Nala and using her fur as clothing. “Um…” She held up a hand, stopping you from speaking. You had only really told her out of courtesy. You had been back to her house several times when she wasn’t home, slowly packing your stuff. The wardrobes were basically empty already; you just had to take down the decorations. It wasn’t like you had many up anyway. You had always thought of it as you sleeping in Alexia’s spare room; it was never yours. And you didn’t want it to be. You tried to speak again, but she just waved you off, turning on her heels and walking away, shaking her head.

After you had officially moved out, training was more awkward than ever. The older players constantly switched between throwing you sympathetic glances, angry glares, and disappointed looks. You had tried not to let it bother you. It honestly didn’t … for a while. In the beginning, it was nothing you weren’t used to. And then they were muttering about you within earshot. Talking amongst themselves over how rude you had been, they had only tried to help you. You were too young, and you were being disrespectful towards them. It really began to bother you, not to the point where your training and playing were affected, but in your personal life. The team had a definite rift, and you were starting to think you were the cause of it.

It was a random Monday morning when things finally came to a head.

“Oh my god!” Bruna squealed as you lifted your top up and over your head. “What are those, Miss Y/S/N?”

“What are what?” You were very confused. Jana gasped as she also spotted something, pointing at your chest. Hickeys. A line of dark purple splotches littered your chest and stomach.

“Fuck. She said she wouldn’t leave marks.” You groaned. You had gone out on Saturday night after the match with some of the younger girls and ended up leaving with a random girl. It was fun; she had stayed the night, and you had made her a coffee the following day before going your separate ways.

“Was she a vampire, Jesus?” Ona laughed, trying to poke at one of the particularly dark ones.

“Oi,” you battered her hand away, laughing all the same. “I’ve seen the aftermaths of your nights out, young lady. You have no leg to stand on,” laughing harder at the blush blooming on her cheeks.

“What. Are. Those?” Alexia boomed, bringing silence over your little group.

“Um, hickeys?” You answered, already tired of her controlling attitude.

“And how did you get them?” She replied. You raised an eyebrow at her.

“You had sex?” Lucy chimed in, disbelieving you.

“Yeh?” Her eyes widened; you were too young to be having sex. She opened her mouth to speak again. “If you’re about to give me the sex talk, don’t bother. That ship sailed long ago.” That stunned her. You had had sex on multiple occasions? She could feel her brain melting slightly.

“When?” Caro asked quietly, unsure whether she wanted to know that particular answer.

“Before I even came to Barca. I’d just signed my first contract. It was a friend from back home, it was nice. We’re still mates, so,” you filled her and the rest of the changing room in – totally open to confessing when you lost your virginity.

“You are too young to-” Alexia started, planning on berating you for your choices.

“Oh, shut up, Alexia.” You shouted. If you thought the changing room was quiet earlier, you could hear a pin drop now. No one shouted at Alexia. Ever. There were a few supercharged seconds. You refused to break eye contact with her. “I am not. Too. Young. I am a fully grown adult. You need to start realising that.” You looked around. “You all do.” You grabbed a random t-shirt and stormed out of the room.

The room was deadly silent. No one dared speak; no one dared even move for fear of retribution. At least Caro had the decency to look a little ashamed; everyone else was fuming.

A bang on the door broke the silence. “Apresúrate,” Jonatan shouted. The younger girls quickly gathered their stuff and rushed out, keeping their heads low and eyes trailing on the ground.

“That little-” Lucy started.

“Enough.” Ingrid cut her off. Ingrid had seen the way they had been treating you. She had heard the comments about how they deemed you too young to do normal things for a young adult to do. “All of you, enough.” They had never heard Ingrid shout before – irritated, sure, pissed off, yes, angry, never. “I am sick and tired of seeing how you treat that woman. She might have joined the team when she was young. But she is now an adult. And you refuse to see her as such. No wonder she snapped.” Alexia tried to cut in. “No, Ale. I know you mean well; you all do. I don’t doubt that. But you have told her off for going out, for drinking, for having sex. These are all normal things. She is safe, and she is happy. Surely, that is all that matters? If it was me, I would have snapped long, long ago. You are lucky; all she did was shout at you.” She turned to get her things. “Don’t come outside until you’ve thought about how to make this right with her,” Ingrid commanded as she stormed off.

The group was initially angry, ranting and raging over your behaviour, then they were slightly less angry with you and more at themselves. Eventually, they were silent, reflecting on how poorly they treated you. Alexia was the guiltiest. She felt so mortified over her treatment of you. Yes, you were a child when you first joined, but now you were a young woman who wanted her own life. They didn’t know how to apologise to you. As they traipsed into training, you refused to look at them.

Over the next few days, you didn’t acknowledge their presence at all. If they approached you in the canteen, you swiftly moved away. If they tried to pair up with you at training, you ran off before they could ask. They had tried to corner you in the changing rooms, but you had slipped out the door before they could move. You couldn’t help but laugh at the irony of it all. You had been pleading with them for months, years even, to treat you like an adult and yet, no, you were acting like a stroppy child.

It eventually became too much for the surrounding team, however, as Patri innocently shouted across the room that you would be at home tonight, alone. And Jana had openly yelled back with your full address, watching with quiet amusement as Lucy scribbled it down.

The knock on your door surprised you. It was only 7pm, not too late for anyone to come over, but no one had asked you or told you they would be making an appearance at your home. You didn’t bother looking through the little glass window as you threw open the door, about to question whoever it was. You froze when you were greeted with the sight of Alexia, Lucy, Marta, Caro and Paños. They had various looks of embarrassment on their faces, and Alexia had a big bouquet of your favourite flowers.

“What?” You asked, not really in the mood for them and any efforts they might have to persuade you to move back in with Alexia.

“Can we come in?” Paños asked. You sighed, knowing you would rather not have this conversation in front of your neighbours. Stepping aside, you eyed them carefully as they stepped into your flat.

“I like your place,” Lucy said awkwardly as you all came to rest at the kitchen table.

“Thanks.” You said bluntly, not really in the mood for this.

“Y/N,” Alexia spoke up. “I … we … I would like to apologise for, well, everything. We … I should have recognised that you are not a child. I am truly sorry.”

“Ok …” you looked between the group, all of them echoing similar sentiments.

“Ok? That’s it?” Marta was a little shocked that you were letting them off the hook so quickly.

“Do you want me to be mad at you? Cos, I’ll happily go back to ignoring you.” You answered. “All I ask is that you treat me like the adult I am. Yes, I go out. Yes, I get drunk. Yes, I have casual sex. Yes, I have one-night stands. All of these are normal adult things. The others do the same, yet you don’t jump on their backs about it. I’m just asking for you to treat me the way you treat them … like an adult.”

It was a slow process, and a few stray comments were still muttered under their breaths, but you could see they were trying. That’s all you could ask for—that they tried.

I hope you enjoyed it. I wasn't quite sure how to end it - if you couldn't tell ahahaha <3 There may be a pt2

#barca femeni #barca femeni x reader #fc barcelona #woso blurbs #woso community #woso imagine #woso x reader #ona batlle #lucy bronze #alexia putellas #woso fanfics #woso fluff #woso oneshot #woso #womens football

[kneelingshadowsalome]

FATUM NOS IUNGEBIT 1/4

(König x F!Reader)

Summary: You have seen him in your dreams. The seer has divined his coming. But nothing has prepared you for witnessing him in the flesh. (Historical AU where König fights for the Roman Empire in an auxiliary unit, finds a cute barbarian woman and decides to keep her as his own.) Word count: 5.3 k Tags/warnings: 18+ ONLY. Spoils of war/enemies to lovers trope, graphic depictions of violence, historical gruesomeness, pining, odd banter, mixed feelings, romantic fluff, dubcon cuddling, eventual smut. Captor/captive dynamic. König is a brutal warrior... and a gentle giant. A/N: Lol what now? König dual wields 2 swords, goes Mike Tyson on his enemies, teaches his captive girl constellations in German, cuddles her and feeds her grapes, buuut mainly just tries to get into her pants (which historically did not exist at the time) A bit of a slow burn, but don't worry, they'll bang eventually ^^

AD 90, somewhere in the untamed frontiers of the Roman Empire…

The end of the world is here.

Not only have the crops failed for two years in a row, making chieftains beggars and beggars food for the fish, but now there are rumours that the god of war has arrived to destroy the land. The accursed Romans had turned their eagle gaze back to your land after years of sending their troops elsewhere, making it seem like they were not interested in your distant land after all. Untamed, they called it, harsh and barren and therefore inferior – your lush, abundant, beautiful land. No doubt they spat on it in their war councils because your roads were not paved, because your crops and villages were modest, and the women sometimes fought alongside men. Their storytellers immortalized false tales about you, calling you barbarians, but the only barbarians you could think of were the Romans themselves – crude, filthy and boorish creatures, drowning in wine and shit in their cities.

Rumours started to get fat and distressed when the troops approached your village. They said there was a giant at the head of the army, that the Romans followed a Titan's son who loved to eat men, torture women and impale children. They said he didn't accept proper food but preferred to eat his fallen enemies, washed his weapons with the blood of children, and split captured women apart with his cock, as long and sharp as his sword. They told that the Titan ordered his soldiers to poison the wells and destroy the growing crops with salt and vinegar. The rumours said that his tent was bigger than any chieftain's house and that he still struggled to stand at full height inside it. 

Even the land itself seemed to bow before him. Good weather followed his conquest wherever he went; ambushes failed, scouts got caught and tortured, exposing more villages to pillage and ruin. Your brother told you to flee the village, but how could you survive without your clansmen? You didn't know how to hunt; you barely knew how to fish. Your task in the village was to gather clams from the shore, dye wool and help the old Seer. How long could you survive on sorrels and clams alone?  

. . .

The old woman calls you to see her on the brink of war, and tells you to prepare for a ceremonial offering. Two horses, black as night if possible, brown at the very least, to appease the Great Mother of the Earth and quench her thirst for blood. If the Mother is satisfied with your offering, She will perhaps stop the approaching army or convince the Titan to leave your village alone.

She does a small rite before you, and you need to stay with her through her visions. You hate the smell of the leaves she burns, and try to cover your nose with your tunic to prevent breathing in the bitter fumes. The seer looks like she’s just lying herself down to sleep, but it’s always a burden when the spirits arrive and she starts to talk. You turn your back on her to coax them to rise: a mortal stare annoys the chthonic ones. You nearly fall asleep too as you wait, wanting nothing more than to go back to your own hut and have a good night’s sleep. Perhaps because you’re lousy tonight, and less vigilant as you should be, the spirits arrive sooner than either of you thought.

“He’s strong,” the seer croaks from the earthen bed, and you fight the urge to turn around and peek at the old woman, currently in the clutches of spirits. 

“Invincible… Hungry... The horses…won’t suffice…”

She drifts someplace else, and you try to memorize every word, every intonation, as cryptic or as simple as they are, for later interpretation.

“I see you,” she says in a slightly more cheerful tone, which is odd because the old woman is never happy or satisfied, no matter how bright the sun shines or how much food there is in the storages and pits.

“Me?” You dare to speak even though you’re not allowed to disturb the spirits. You could slap yourself for blurting out a single word, but luckily, the hungry ones don’t attack you for your insolence.

“You.. will be his downfall,” she speaks as if you are having a conversation here. “Be there. When he arrives.”

“...Be there? Why?” You dare to utter again, more concerned about what the Mother implies than the potential fury of some lowly earthen spirits. You haven’t got the faintest clue about what She might be suggesting. Why do you have to participate in the battle? How can you be there without getting killed? You’re not a warrior… The Mother has it all wrong. 

Suddenly, you curse the night, you curse the whole day, knowing your brother’s late proposal was perhaps a warning, a hint from the gods to leave, and leave quickly.

The old woman laughs dryly on the ground - the throaty, outright sick cackle makes you flinch. 

You don’t like this... You don’t like this at all.

“Mother. What must I do?” You demand to know, thinking about how all the gods, spirits, old women, and Titans should go to hell.

“Become a tree,” the old woman offers as if it’s the easiest thing to do. “A flower. Me...”

. . .

You become a marten first, then a bird. Then perhaps a tree.

You climb a spruce and wait there. You wait until the sunrise; you wait until noon. You wait until you see the glint of the Roman spearheads and hear the sound of their march.

You’ve dreamed of the Titan ever since you left the seer’s hut. You’ve dreamed of him slaying everyone in the village; you’ve dreamed of him driving a thick spear into the ground and grabbing you with an intent to raise you into the air and impale you on it. You’ve dreamed of him behind you, above you, inside you. You wake up one morning only to see that half of the people have left. You don’t know where they have gone, and you can’t follow them even if you did because the old woman waits for you in front of her hut and gives you a nod the instant you walk into another beautiful, sunny day.

That’s why you’ve turned into a branch in a tree, but for what purpose, you have no idea. You can’t understand why you must be here to witness the world’s end.

Your men scream and shout and roar as they crash into the thick forest of spears. The enemy is silent: it’s eerie, how the world burns and falls into ruin around you, people are screaming; everyone who has a soul and a heart is screaming for Mother as they die, but the men behind the Roman shields refuse to emit a sound. They don’t curse or shout or summon their gods; they simply stand their ground and pant mist into the air as wave after wave of men break on their shields and die before their feet. Somebody loses his spear because it gets stuck between your clansman’s ribs, but the Roman simply draws his sword in its stead: it’s the only sound among the pitched wails that cut through the forest – the cold, clear ring of a gladius being pulled from its sheath.

That is why you flinch at the sound of the first shout, a brutish command that sends all the shields to the side, only to present more shields: the Romans switch positions in their formation as if they’re not even human beings like the rest of you, just a single enormous creature made of iron and leather and bone, operating it's flat forest of weapons.

And then you see him: the giant of your dreams, the hungry titan everyone has told you about. He rises from the tide of helmets like a summoned god, concealed as one of the soldiers and only now revealing his true nature. He stands at least two heads taller than the rest, pushes his own soldiers to the side and breaks out of the formation these vicious Romans love so much. You knew he would be strong and big, but you didn't know he refused to show his face… You wonder what kind of a monster hides behind the black cloth with nothing but two eye holes ripped on it. As if this man needed the additional effort to stand out from other soldiers...

He's like a God of War, just like the survivors said: his armour is of Roman design, but the amount of metal that had to be scraped together to cover this man's shoulders and chest must've demanded a fortune in gold. He doesn't seem to care about the Roman ways, however: he throws his shield away as soon as he's out of the cumbersome formation as if he has carried it only as a decoration up until this point. He draws another sword in its stead – if any other man did such a stupid thing, traded his shield for a weapon, you would snort. But not now.

Standing between the Romans and your clansmen like a challenge, a threat, a deity, even the men possessed by the seer's blood spells hesitate to approach him. But when they do, the god unleashes carnage: the first warrior gets his stomach slashed open, and the two thick swords look like toothpicks when wielded by this man. A stomach wound is a gruesome, slow way to die - but just before the warrior's entrails spill to dangle between his feet, the brute grants him mercy by sweeping his head off with a single blow of his gladius. 

A roar finally rises from your enemy: they cheer Death on as the head of your neighbour meets the mud next. The soil is already soaked in blood, but the Mother is hungry still. The forest booms with Her bloodlust as the god moves around like a slow tempest of muscle, metal and darkness: he breaks every Roman rule by fighting as his own man instead of demeaning himself as one of them, a lowly part of this odd metal beast before you. He sends a limb flying in the air with a swing of a sword; he uses the same weapon as a bludgeon to bash in someone's skull. He crushes a man's chest simply by sinking down onto one knee, breaking bone, tendon and flesh to splinters as a whole ribcage gets crushed under his massive weight. 

Warriors flee before him, they fall under the combined wrath of the Mother and the Titan's sword. The dead seem to fall eternally, along with your heart, before meeting the ground with a hollow thud. 

Your chieftain is among the last men standing, meeting this unstoppable foe with admirable courage. Not having succumbed to the spells of bloodlust in years, he meets his death as a seasoned but old warrior. With his fighting years behind him, your chief doesn't have a chance against this man, but you have to grant the beast a feather's worth of honour, because he recognizes your chieftain as the veteran he is and salutes him with his sword. Then he proceeds with the bloodbath: flinging your leader's sword and axe easily to the side, he walks straight into his arms like he would into a hug, grabs him by the waist, and raises him into the air like he's nothing but a child. 

Your scream never leaves your lungs as you watch how the Titan raises the draping cloth from his face, just enough to sink his teeth into your beloved chieftain’s neck. The noise that erupts from your elder is not that of a man but a tortured animal. It’s not from this world, what you witness next: the giant tears a hunk of flesh from your chief like he’s a piece of roasted meat. Blood streams forth, his screams fade away all too slowly, and you hear your own weak wail in the air as the Titan lets go of the heap that used to be a strong male and a wise leader. 

Your chieftain is dead; his essence spills to the earth in spurts to appease the God of War, who spits blood and flesh to the ground, making you gag into the cold spring air. 

Then he raises his swords towards the sun, and the forest erupts into a roar with him: the thundering, ear-splitting cheer from his warriors makes the very earth quake beneath your tree. It seems to shake the branches of the forest, and before you know it, the giant’s howl of triumph breaks the one you’re curled around, and you fall, fall, fall into the mud beneath you. 

You're not a tree anymore. No: you’re very much a human woman there in the dirt as the sound of shouting ceases like a distant dream. 

And he turns. 

Death turns.

Mother always said you were a curious creature, which is perhaps why you search for his eyes, even though you should be running. She also said you were a smart one, which is why you know that running is futile. Your limbs wouldn’t carry you far anyway. It is a cruel joke from the gods to have what little strength you have left pour out of you into the ground and up to the feet of the enemy who is already strong, both in body and in will.

The Titan looks at you with genuine wonder, a curiosity that surpasses your own. To your odd thrill, you find that his eyes are blue: the same blue of the sea which you used to collect delicious clams from. 

The soldiers behind him shift with lust – their gear clinks as they devour you with unbridled hunger. The Titan is the only one who looks at you like you’re simply a cute little squirrel who happened to fall from a tree right there at his feet. Then his eyes drop to your breasts, and the familiar hunger that lives in men gives the ocean of his eyes a clouded look. When his stare finds yours again, he's a different man: the treacherous beast of your dreams.

You had hoped for a swift death… Violent but quick. But it’s clear that it’s not death he has in store for you as he takes a step towards you. It’s not a quick nor a slow death; it’s not death at all, because–

No.

No.

You’d rather have your arms torn off and fed to the Romans rather than have him thrust the sword between his legs, his third weapon, inside you. If you’re going to die screaming, it will not happen on your back; you will not amuse this beast with your womanhood and tears.

You scramble forward to pick up something, anything: a bronze dirk from a fallen warrior. The giant’s eyes fall on the sad excuse of a weapon, then on the sorry excuse of you. He thinks you’re planning to fight him with that thing, and the corners of his eyes crease a little from the prospect of having to subdue you. You’re proving to be quite the entertainment, and you curse those eyes, looking so kind and lively when just moments ago, the same eyes were inhuman and possessed. His are the eyes of a wayfarer, a wanderer, not a soldier: you catch a hint of sadness in them and curse again.

He’s not human, you remind yourself and show him what actual humans are made of. What women are made of. You give him another name, Giant, because you’ve always feared giants and hated the stories about them. Dumb and reckless creatures they are, stupid destroyers who always place their trust in their size. You never meant to fight him, and he only catches up on it as you turn the dagger towards yourself and guide it to point straight at your heart. 

You will be his downfall, just like the seer said.

“Nein–Warte,” the Giant speaks his first words, surprisingly soft to belong to a man like him. 

The sorrow in his stare consumes you in full now. It gushes forth like a tide, causing your breath and hands to shake when they need to be stern. You straighten your spine, jut your chin forward, and call for Mother: you don’t even know if you’re yelling for your bearer, or the Great Mother, or the earth that gives life to all. Perhaps you call them all to gather around and witness your sacrifice, higher in price than any of the Titan’s offerings combined. The blood you’re about to spill onto the soil will surely appease the land and raise it to arms to finally fight against this beast. 

He says something else just before you pull the blade back to strike it into your chest, and you curse for the third time in your mind: giants aren’t supposed to move that fast; they aren’t supposed to interfere in your last ritual. 

But the worst of it is that even when he finally subdues you, even as he wrestles the blade away from you, he ends up drawing a large gash on his forearm… As if he is trying his best to protect you from accidentally cutting yourself.

. . . 

You are brought to his tent, screaming. 

It’s not as big as a chieftain’s house; it’s barely the size of yours. But it is larger than the tents you saw when you got carried there: as a spitting, screeching, hissing package of what these brutes would no doubt consider a true barbarian woman with uncivilized manners and a fuckable cunt. They will talk about you around their campfires tonight: about you getting broken in by their true commander. It’s enough to satisfy them for now: to imagine their champion to fuck you bloody and sore. And who knows: perhaps they’ll receive the scraps if the Titan gets tired of you.

The precious dagger is somewhere in the mud, probably trampled there like it’s nothing but a piece of worthless metal. Your own trampling is only about to begin as the Giant marches into his abode and sends the men away, giving you uneasy looks in the process, perhaps checking if any of them had enough time to have a go at you. Luckily for him, you’re in the same condition as he left you: legs together, safe and pretty, because he bound them with a rope along with your hands. You are nothing but a delivery, thrown on the floor of dirt and a few animal skins. He just nods at you, happy to acknowledge that you are untouched by the others, as if it would somehow be worse for you to be raped by ten of those petite men than be raped by him: a cruel, bloodthirsty Giant with a giant cock. 

Your ankles and wrists get sore as you watch him doff his armour. He takes off the helmet, the belted straps, the segmented plates of his shoulder guards and the heavy Roman cuirass. The gods have truly favoured this man, not only gifting him tremendous height but insurmountable strength too. His muscles are large and lean and quiver with latent power as he moves; his back is so broad it almost competes with the wide mouth of the tent. He doesn’t seem to suffer from the cold either, but he keeps his mask on for whatever ghastly reason. Even if there is a monster under that mask, his body speaks of virility: he’s a man in his prime, a giant at his strongest, making you feel like an elf, a tiny little creature in the feet of this man who must be descended from titans indeed.

You continue to watch as he washes his hands in a small basin, cleans his mouth and neck, too. You reckon the water in that bowl is blood red and dark when he finally dries himself with a white cloth. He stands before you in nothing but his mask and the dark red tunic he had under the armour. He ties it from the waist with a simple leather belt, and it only now makes sense to you why Roman soldiers dye their clothes red: you’re pretty sure you can still see the darker spots on the hem of that tunic, the ones that used to be the lifeblood of your clansmen and kin.

He has the audacity to ask you - wordlessly - to clean his wound, the one you caused him. He sets you free from your bounds, and you are given fresh water and another cloth. He even opens a smallish wooden box of salve that has a familiar smell to it: pine tar and honey, used by your people to treat minor wounds and prevent bad spirits from getting into the wound. You wonder how he even knows about such a balm: is this warrior a Roman at all, or is he some odd creature hauled from the edges of the world to fight for them? You wonder if he has made the salve himself, extracted the tar from the pine and foraged the wax and honey himself, then cursed with his coarse language when he got stung by multiple bees…

You drive away the thoughts that threaten to make this brute human by snorting at his injury. The damage he gave to himself when he tried to guide the blade away from you at the price of his own blood. 

It still troubles you that he did it. Even a tiny wound like this can bring any man down if it starts to fester. The cold winds and rains of spring can easily get into the gash and make it rot. 

The idea of this giant being forced to his knees because of some filthy dagger wielded by a squirrel of a woman makes you smile inside. It would be a fitting fate for this man. But the vision also makes your heart sting. The thought of him dying of a simple flesh wound, alone and far away from his home, makes your heart grow kinder than it should. 

You decide there is nothing you can do but treat his arm, strong and scarred from previous battles. He sits down while you get to stay on the ground, and you try to ignore it that your face is now level with his groin. He sits with a wide spread in those powerful thighs, and you wonder if it's because the rumours about his cock are true. You keep your eyes everywhere else except the hem of that tunic and what's going on under there. He purrs at your touch, making it clear that it doesn't need much more than your soft fingertips to get him hard after a triumphant day on the field of battle. 

The wound is not deep, but you clean it carefully, trying to ignore the way his eyes seem to bore into you as you take care of him. Your hand is somewhat steady as you treat the damage with the nice-smelling salve, but you flinch as his hand suddenly meets your cheek. You look up at him, heart plummeting, thighs instinctively pressing together from the gentle way with which he cups your face.

“Schön,” he says, again with a tender voice and an adoring, almost worshipful stare. You don’t have a clue what he’s saying, but you know now for sure that it's not the tongue of the Romans he speaks. The scent of pines and bees lingers between you as he brushes a thumb over your lower lip. You are weak enough to give him a breath, a helpless, hot little exhale that meets his hand like a gift.

“Schön wie eine Fee,” he rumbles, sounding intoxicated or like he's under a spell of sleep.

“What the hell are you saying,” you whisper in your own tongue: just a meek little sputter, a tiny, horrified breath, but the giant’s eyes narrow with a smile.

“Sie redet,” he says happily, and your shoulders sink – you are on the verge of screaming from frustration alone. Whatever you do seems to only amuse this man, and you snap your mouth shut. Your cheeks heat up with recurring waves of odd fever. The ground beneath your shins is all but warm, and yet you feel warm all over: a dangerous sign, you know, and oddly tied to the peculiar bodings you have seen all week.

Because there have been many omens in the air lately. 

It’s just that none of them were portents of war. 

The cranes started to mate early this year, and you have found a lot of clams from the shore every day. Even your brother encountered a boar with nine piglets; everyone celebrated him as some holy man who had seen the Great Mother when he returned to the village that day. The wind started to blow from south soon after, and the moon has grown along with your womb: this morning, on the brink of war, you woke up wet and restless. 

All the omens speak of fertility, of growth, of a new cycle and of birth: of spring and life. There’s nothing about death and decay, nothing except what the people have told you about… him. The death himself. The war god.

“König,” he says as if he can hear your thoughts and wishes to correct them. You look up and see he’s pointing to himself, or rather, holding his hand over his heart. You fight the urge to scoff at the gesture. As if this beast had a heart…

“König,” he repeats the word and pats his chest, and you realize he’s trying to tell you his name. You wrinkle your nose in distaste, and he smiles. It’s easy to tell when he does, even with the cloth that covers his face: you can see the joy clearly from his eyes, the boyish grin that must be occurring under that mask.

“Du?” He points at you next, inquisitive. He has an odd way of pointing: with two fingers, slightly crooked, and you understand very well what he’s asking of you. You refuse to tell him your name, however, settling for pouting a lip at him next. The smile in his eyes only deepens.

“Fee,” he pokes you gently on the shoulder and leans back in his odd Roman chair, seemingly content with having now named you. 

And Mother was right: you are curious, so incredibly curious to know what this beast has chosen to call you and why. Are you a rat to him…? Some bird? Perhaps simply a girl?

He is so pleased with your conversation that he pours himself some wine and drinks the whole cup with one gulp. Great, you sigh inside your head, a beast and a drunkard. He pours another cup and tries to offer it to you, and when you don’t make a move to grab the clay mug, he brings it to your lips. You entertain him with a tiny sip: you’ve heard of wine and know that Romans are fond of it, but you have never tasted it yourself. 

The tart, bitter flavour almost makes you cough. You thought wine was supposed to be sweet: everyone always describes it as something like milk or honey or juice from an overripe apple. It very much is not, and you almost choke on it and then make a wry face at your captor. He - König - only laughs. It’s another thing that catches you off guard: first those boyish, sad eyes and now this hearty, grown man’s laugh. You have proved to be such an amusement to him that he doesn’t force you to drink any more wine and enjoys the rest of it himself. 

Then he rises and makes you shrink from him again, towers above you for a moment, and looks at you with that warm curiosity that makes your heart race.

“Müde?” 

He tilts his head, the bag of darkness shifts, the blue eyes behold you fondly, and for some reason, you whimper an answer to yet another question you can’t even understand. He takes your little squeak as a yes and falls to crouch before you, then raises a massive hand to the leather strings that keep your demure little dress up. 

To your horror, he pulls the knotted tangle open before you can stop him. Your dress falls from your shoulders and drops to pool around you, and you simply and verily stop breathing.

His eyes wash over you, he examines every little part of exposed skin like an entire treasure chest has suddenly opened before him. You pray to all the gods that he would find it in his heart to be gentle tonight. Your nipples perk up – from the cold or from his stare, you don’t know. 

The rough callous of his palm meets your breast and encloses it in warm support. He cups you, weighs you like he would a fruit, and then he squeezes you, rather hard, too: a deliberate attempt to make you squeal again. He replies to your pathetic mewl with an approving rumble, and you look up at him with all the helpless tenderness of the Mother, hoping that Her gentle pleas might persuade this man not to hurt you.

“Please don’t,” you whisper, and his eyes dart to your mouth, to your eyes, then back to your lips again. He immediately softens his touch. Then he lifts you from inside your poor dress, picks you up like you weigh nothing at all, and carries you to his broad bed, the sturdiest you have ever seen. 

This man feels like the strangest of fates, like a hopeless destiny, as he sets you on the skins and straw mattress, right next to your fluttering heart. Your insides ache as he undresses before you, entirely without shame. He’s hard under the tunic he rips off and tosses on the cold ground. Your eyes are glued to the legendary cock you’ve heard so much about, the cock that splits women apart: and it’s true that it's huge. It resembles the ones you’ve seen on horses, not on men, and your thighs are glued together as he comes next to you while that pale, monstrous cock sways long and heavy between his thighs. He moves you around a little, and you squeal from how weak you feel: weak as a mouse as he covers you with one of those rich furs he has in plenty on the bed. Then crawls under it too, right next to you.

Your heart almost wrenches itself out of your chest as a strong arm pulls you against him: the swell of your ass meets his thighs, solid and broad like treetrunks, and your lower back meets the hot, almost too hot horse cock. It starts to leak and throb against your skin the instant your flesh is pressed against his. You try not to whimper and moan as the Giant, König, curls around you like you two have always done this.

He takes a long, earnest inhale from your neck and hair, rumbles deeply and contently, and tightens his grip. Apparently, you smell and feel good… 

You wait and wait to be plundered and raped, but König only settles for holding you tightly, like you’re a children’s toy made of the softest straw and purest undyed wool. You relax slowly, and he purrs against your back, starts to fondle your breasts, ardently, until your body betrays you and you find yourself wet again; he squeezes and squishes your teats slowly, approvingly, then pinches your nipple once before finally falling into a heavy, deep sleep.

…

Please forgive your author for any historical inaccuracies and other silly things you find facepalmable <3 During this time König would've probably spoken some form of Old Saxon but since I'm not a TOLKIEN we have to settle for modern-day German here. I don't have a taglist for this fic so please check my pinned masterlist for future updates.

Translations

Nein, warte - No, wait

Schön - Beautiful 

Schön wie eine Fee - Beautiful as a fairy

Sie redet - She talks

Du? - You?

Müde? - Tired?

#könig fanfiction #könig x reader #könig x you #könig #könig cod #konig x reader #könig smut #könig fluff #historical au #Roman soldier!König #könig x female reader

[the-offside-rule]

Max Verstappen (Red Bull Racing) - Shouldn't Have Happened

Requested: yes

Prompts: 4) "You deserve better." 15) "You're a wonderful person and don't you ever forget that." 28) "Have you been drinking?"

Warnings: drunk max

The streets of Monaco were quiet other than the distant echoes of laughing and cars fading into the night. Y/n Leclerc walked through the cobbled alleys, her steps echoing in the silence. She had chosen to bot drink too much tonight, watching over her friends who had indulged a bit too much in the celebration. As she rounded a corner, she stumbled upon an unexpected sight—a figure sprawled in a flower bed. She scoffed before she continued walking and only to see a familiar face. Max Verstappen. Concerned, Y/n approached him, gently shaking his shoulder. "Hey, are you okay?"

Max stirred, groaning slightly. "I'm fine... just needed a moment with the flowers." He slurred, sounding very....drunk.

"A flower bed in Monaco." Y/n muttered somewhat amused. "Are you hurt?" Max sat up slowly, rubbing his temple. "Just my pride, I think." Y/n noticed the faint scent of alcohol clinging to him. "And you've been drinking?" Max laughed, his gaze shifting from the starry sky to Y/n Leclerc in a red dress, holding her heels as though they were a handbag. "Yeah, too much, I guess." He replied, sitting up, denying Y/n to help him. "Why?" Y/n asked, curiosity and concern mingling in her voice. Max hesitated before confessing. "My girlfriend um- she cheated on me. My friends convinced me to go out looking for a rebound, but I ended up feeling like shit and getting sad again."

"I'm not trying to be insincere but it was very obvious she would do this." Max looked at her, his eyes turning into one of anger. "Think About it Max. She never went to your races and whenever she did, she either paraded herself around or was glued to her phone. It was so obvious she was using you and cheating." Max groaned, nearly falling back into the flower bed. "Okay, just-" Y/n hoisted Max'sarm over her shoulder and began walking up the steep hill. "Jesus, I thought you guys liked to stay light." Y/n mumbled. "Did you just call me fat?" Max blabbered. "Oh shut up. Charles is the same." Max didn't speak. He couldn't and he didn't want to. "You deserve better." Y/n said firmly, her eyes reflecting sincerity. Max down, meeting her gaze. "Do I, though?"

"You do." Y/n insisted. "You're a wonderful person, and don't you ever forget that." As she got to the top of the hill, Max reached into his pocket and pulled out a swab for the apartment complex front door. As Max struggled to get the swab to work, Y/n took it and opened it for him. "I'll come up with you just just you can open your actual door." She mumbled. "Oh, Y/n. I didn't know you cared." He teased before Y/n slapped his chest. "Shut up! Get inside!" She began giggling upon seeing Max laughing hysterically at his own joke. "I'm serious! Come on before Charles calls me to see where I am!"

Finally, Y/n opened the front door, letting Max fall in and stumble to the kitchen. Y/n looked around in awe. This looked nothing like her brothers apartment. As a matter of fact, it could possibly be much nicer. "Drink?" She turned to see Max opening up a huge liquor cabinet. "I think I should get going." Max shrugged. "If you have to. I mean, I have two glasses here and one is going to be very lonely without the other." He sang, pouring both glasses. Y/n eyed them for a moment before she gave in. "Okay, just one."

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

"When did you and your girlfriend break up?" Y/n asked as Max poured another glass. "In like-" Max thought for a moment. "September? I just couldn't let loose and drink like I can now so I have been bottling everything up and now I'm here drinking with the littlest of the Leclerc's." Y/n and Max toasted before she downed the drink yet again. "You seem to need that vodka. Need something stronger?" She shook her head. "No, but maybe a red wine?" Max turned, grabbed a brand new bottle and placed it in front of Y/n. "I have and its my most expensive one." Y/n looked between Max and the bottle. "Well don't give me the expensive one." Max shook his head, opening the bottle. "No, no. Drink the good wine on a bad day because on a good day, all wine tastes good." Y/n smiled. "My mother always says that."

She poured herself a glass before taking a sip. "So, why are you so down?" Max asked. "University. Its getting to be too much and I'm honestly thinking of dropping out and becoming a hairdresser like Mama." Max sighed. "Well, I think you would be great in whatever you want to do. I actually think you'd be a really good therapist." Y/n smiled. "I'm in university to be a sport psychologist actually." Max nodded. "Very good. I'll come to you about all my problems from now on." Max chuckled. "Maybe that would stop me from thinking of looking for a rebound."

They sat in silence for a moment, simply looking between eachothers eyes and lips. "You're not the rebound type, Max. That's not who you are as a person." She whispered, her words resonating in the night air. "How do you know what kind of a person I am?" Max mumbled, sipping his whiskey. "Charles talks about you sometimes. And you forget I bumped into you I a club on my birthday last year." Max looked at her yet again. He felt safe with her. He didn't know if it was the alcohol or her aura but he felt safe. "And you figured me out that quick?" Y/n shook her head. "No, but I'd like to figure you out. You seem lovely."

As the night wore on, Max's shoulders seemed lighter, his smile more genuine. And as they walked back to Y/n's apartment, the air crackled with an unspoken tension. "Have you had a rebound? Have you had anyone since her?" Y/n asked as Max drank his wine and Y/n looked up at him intently. Max hesitated, his gaze flickering uncertainly. "No. Too busy, but Im hoping now with the off-season, I could get a chance to explore new possibilities and people." He replied. "New people. Does this mean men are included?" Max shook his head, nearly spitting out his drink. "No, Jesus. No. I like women. I'm a big fan of the breasts." As Y/n and Maxs laughing quietened down, they could feel the electricity in the air, their hearts pounding in their chests. They leaned in closer to one another, slowly. "Are you going to just stare at me or-" And then, in a moment of boldness, Max leaned in and kissed her.

Y/n's heart fluttered, her head spinning with a whirlwind of emotions. Max deepened the kiss as Y/n's hands flew up to the back of his head, pulling him as close as he could possibly go. Their pants and puffs filled the room, knocking over glasses as Max hoisted Y/n up onto the countertop. It was then Y/n pushed him away. "Wait. No. This is so, so wrong on so many levels." Y/n whispered to herself. "What do you mean?" Max asked. "I mean, I am not going to be your rebound because its just so fucking wrong. I haven't Eve done that kind of stuff before. Jesus!" Y/n hopped down off the counter, muttering to herself in French as Max grabbed her back for her. "Who said you were my rebound?" Max asked.

"Max! Regardless, I don't think I could do this. You race my brother, you just got cheated on and you've told me multiple times you just want a rebound. Well, I'm sorry, but that's not what I'm looking for." As she turned to head for the door, Max pulled her back. "Listen, I don't want you as a rebound. I'm not doing this because I'm drunk, I'm doing this because I genuinely like you and I'd like to get to know you better." Y/n's chest rose and fell quickly as she took deep breathes to try and control herself. "Then take me out for food or something first at least." She replied. "Okay." Max took out his phone and handed it to Y/n. She looked up it skeptically. "Put your number in. I'll text you in the morning and we can go for breakfast. Better yet, I'll bring you for lunch on my yacht." She scoffed. "Yachts don't impress me, Max."

"Maybe not, but it would give me a chance to actually get to know you." She typed her number in it and added a heart for good measure. "How's that?" She asked. Max smiled. "Perfect. I'll see you tomorrow."

-----------

Y/n groaned, her head pounding as she stumbled into the kitchen to the sound of her mother's concerned voice. Whilst she had done her hair up and changed into more respectable clothes than the night before, there was no denying that she probably felt like she was dying. Arthur and Charles exchanged mischievous grins, eying her with curiosity. Her mother, worried, placed a bowl of cereal in front of her. "Are you okay, dear?" Pascale asked, rubbing her daughter's head. "No." Y/n replied miserably. "There is some pills in the cabinet to help your headache. I just need to go go the bathroom and I'll get them for you." Pascale said, heading towards the bathroom.

Before Y/n could respond, Arthur and Charles jumped in with sly grins. "So, how was your night, Y/n?" Arthur asked, taking a sip of his coffee. Y/n felt her cheeks flush as she recalled the events of the evening—the chance encounter, the heartfelt conversations, the stolen kiss...and everything that happened after that. "It was great." She replied, her voice quiet and shy with a tone of embarrassment. "You definitely stayed at a guys house last night. Admit it!" Charles chuckled. "No! I'm back here, aren't I?" She defended herself. "Yes, but I heard you open the door at nearly 5 this morning." Charles and Arthur laughed. "I do have friends you know. Plus, there wasn't even a guy last night. It was just me and my friends." Y/n replied, trying to disguise the fact that she was in fact talking to a guy. "So, care to explain the mysterious hill-walking we saw on TikTok?" Charles asked, shoving his phone in her face. Sure enough, there it was; Y/n and a mysterious man walking up a steep hill as they argued.

Y/n sighed, realizing her night out had become the latest family gossip. "It's not what it looks like," she mumbled, bracing herself for the interrogation from her cheeky brothers. "I- That's not me. Im-" She paused when she heard her phone buzz. She quickly answered it and her heart skipped a beat upon seeing the message.

Max🧡

I'm in Cafe de Paris. Unless you decided you don't want to join me

She smiled to herself before she pocketed her phone and headed towards the door, now a bounce in her step. "Well, as much as I'd like to answer you and your false accusations, boys. I have a Cafe to head to and a person to meet so, au revoir, á bientot, et bisous." She smiled, closing the door behind her and leaving her brothers curious.

#f1 imagine #f1 blurb #f1 oneshot #f1 oneshots #f1 x female reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x oc #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 smut #max verstappen fic #max verstappen imagines #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen smut #max verstappen x oc #max verstappen x y/n #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader

[sweetcyberangel]

Baby, I'm yours

Bouncer!Abby x Reader > PART ONE Synopsis: Abby takes you on a date <3 tags/Warnings: 1.6k words, fluff fluff fluff, there’s a bottle of wine, Abby rides a motorbike, reciprocated lesbian pining, there’s like a tiny bit of sexual tension, they kiss!! This is so self indulgent.

Every notification that ran through Abby’s apartment sent her rushing over to her phone, face dropping in disappointment each time. Biting her lip, she scolds herself for being so impatient after only meeting you the night before. I mean, who is to say you even want to message her? You were still a bit hazy at the time she said goodbye and maybe you woke up and realized you had no interest in her. With a frustrated groan she plops down on her couch, laying her head on the back of it to stare blankly at the ceiling. Why can she not get you out of her head? 

The entire morning you had been pacing back and forth in your bedroom, your socks padding against the floors with each step. Seriously, why was this so difficult? She clearly was interested in you; otherwise, why would she have given you her number? Sitting on the edge of the bed and reaching for your phone, you stare at the screen in an attempt to will yourself into just sending the message. Your fingers reach for her contact, dancing along the keyboard. Typing, deleting, typing, deleting. Every message either came out weird or too forward or seemingly uninterested. Seriously, it's been WAY too long since you’ve been into anyone. 

Finally you settled on a simple “hey! it’s the girl from last night, thanks for the ride home”. A reply gets sent back almost instantly. 

Hearing another notification, Abby pushes down the excitement bubbling up, telling herself to stop being so desperate but when she sees a text from an unknown number, she leaps to answer it. “Hey!! It’s really no problem, I’m glad you got home safe :)” 

A week of exchanging messages back and forth, gradually getting to know one another through gentle questions and sweet remarks ends with Abby finally asking the question she’s wanted to ask since you both started talking. 

“Hey, no pressure of course but if you are free any time soon i’d love to take you on a date”

“i’d love to! i’m free tomorrow?” 

“Sounds perfect, can I pick you up at 4? I have somewhere I’d love to take you.”

The following evening arrives in a flurry of butterflies residing permanently in your stomach. You smooth out your dress for the hundredth time, glancing between your reflection in the mirror and phone lighting up with a text from Abby. 

“On my way now, see you soon :)” 

Your heart hammers in your chest at the thought of seeing her again, though this time under intentional circumstances. 

Around twenty minutes later a gentle knock sounds at the door. Taking a steadying breath you mentally prepare yourself, straightening your posture before swinging the door open smoothly. Abby stands before you, hands stuffed hesitantly into the pockets of her leather jacket. Your eyes scan over her, her features are softer in the daylight. You can see the freckles on her pale cheeks that weren’t visible the night you had met. 

“Hey” she smiles, tone gentle and timid in contrast to her tough exterior. You return her smile. “Hi! come in while I grab what I need.” Stepping aside you allow her room to enter, closing the door behind her broad frame. 

Abby rocks on her heels, eyes wandering your home, taking in the decorations you have around. Her eyes land on a picture of you and - who she assumes - are your friends. A small “cute” is mumbled under her breath. “So, where are you taking me?” You inquire, curiosity piqued as you walked over to her. Her expression turns sheepish. 

“I, uh, packed us a little picnic. Figured we could watch the sunset in the park, if that’s okay?” Her words lift at the end in question, anxious she may have planned too much too soon. 

(Lesbians, can’t be casual about anything)

Your eyes are soft and earnest as you reply. “I’d really like that. Thank you, Abby” Hearing her name spoken so sweetly off your tongue gives her a surge of confidence, so she extends her hand for you to take.

As you walk out to her bike, she hands you a helmet as well as a jacket, much more prepared for a second passenger this time. Her bike roars to life beneath you once more.

All too soon the scenery blurs to a halt, Abby kicking the stand down and guiding you off with care. You watch as she lifts her helmet off, blonde strands of hair falling in front of her face. She leads you through a trail into a secluded spot, before reaching into her bag and gently spreading a blanket across the grass. There are small flowers spread across the grassy field, a river running in front of your spot. You watch in wonder as a swan glides across the water.

The sky is awash with lavenders and oranges, not a cloud in sight, and you understand now why she chose this place. It takes your breath away. 

“Abby, this is too sweet,” You say warmly, and she turns to you with a smile, shrugging her shoulders.

Wordlessly, she begins unpacking the food she had prepared. Fruits, cheeses, crackers, and some small pastries and desserts before pulling out an expensive bottle of red wine and two glasses.

Abby sits close but not too near, patient and watching with care untainted by expectation or want. “This is beautiful, Abby.”

Her smile is soft, eyes crinkling at the corners. “I’m glad you like it.” 

You reach over and pick up a cherry, placing it between your lips. It’s sweet and perfectly ripe. As you bite into it you feel the juice trickle down your chin, but before you can reach to wipe it away Abby's fingers are swiping away at your bottom lip, and when you look up at her she chuckles under her breath. “So messy”. She says it absent-mindedly, with no implication or second meaning, but your mind fogs up. Doe eyes meeting hers, she watches your pupils expand and a cocky grin graces her lips before she lifts her fingers to her lips, sucking the cherry juice off before going back to looking out at the water. Your breath catches in your throat and your teeth press softly into your lip before following her gaze out to the stream. you soak in the tranquil setting drenched in the warmth of the setting sun. 

Tentatively, you shift closer till your sides are pressed together, both as a search for warmth in the cool dusk air and the want for closeness you feel building deep inside you. Abby smiles at the movement, curling a strong yet tender arm around your waist. Her calloused fingers trace absent patterns along your hip bone through the fabric, sending tingles up your spine. 

The rest of the sunlight you have is spent like this, voices soft and conversations filled with laughter. Absent-mindedly your hands reach for the one sitting on your waist, bringing it into your vision to trace gentle lines against it. 

As darkness falls, the air cools slightly and you can't help the small shiver that runs through you. Abby's arms tighten protectively at the action, as if on instinct.

"You cold?" she whispers softly, her breath ghosting along your hairline. You nod in response, not wishing to disturb the serenity with unnecessary noise.

Without a word she reaches behind you both, pulling the leather jacket from her shoulders and draping it around your own. The lingering warmth from her body seeps into you, that smell of pinewood invading your senses again.

As stars form above your heads, Abby turns to you as she gently squeezes your side “I should probably get you home”. You nod, silently praying that you’ll get to see her again soon. 

She packs any leftover food back into her backpack and you fold up the picnic blanket. All the effort that she put into this… It’s more than anyone’s ever done for you before. No one had ever put so much effort into their time with you, or been so delicate with you. 

Taking your hand once more, Abby walked with you to where her bike was parked near a line of trees. She helped you swing your leg over to settle in behind her before starting the engine with a rumble.

Being on her motorbike is becoming more familiar now, less nerve wrecking. 

All too soon, her motorcycle rolled to a stop in front of your house. Abby cut the ignition and swung her leg over to dismount before turning to help you off as well. Fingers curled together, you walked the few steps to your front porch in comfortable silence.

Stopping outside your front door, you turn to face her, smiling up at her with warmth spreading over your cheeks. 

“Thank you for letting me take you out,” Abby said softly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear in a tender gesture. You leaned into her touch instinctively, a smile spreading on your lips.

Abby gazed at you with such fondness and care that it made your heart swell. Slowly, ever so slowly, she seemed to gravitate closer until there was barely any space left between your bodies. Her eyes flickered down to your lips in a silent question.

In answer, you slid your arms up around her neck and closed the final distance, pressing your mouth to hers in a gentle kiss. Abby's hands found your waist, holding you steady as she kissed you back sweetly. Her lips were soft and confident against your own.

Abby placed one last fleeting kiss to your lips before stepping back reluctantly. "Goodnight, beautiful. Sleep well," she murmured, caressing your cheek softly. You beamed at the new pet name.

"Goodnight, Abby. Text me when you get home safe." With that, you unlocked the door and slipped inside with a ball of light beneath your chest. 

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson #tlou abby #abby tlou #abby x reader #bouncer!abby #abby x fem!reader

[hoseoksluna]

— WIP 𐙚 part 4 of wine

pairing: fuck buddy!jungkook x f. reader

about: the first time jungkook owns oc’s orgasm

word count: 0.417

note: because i started writing part four so late in the week (friday and i barely had time during this weekend to write) due to the fact i struggled hard, here i give you at least a little something on updating day. im really sorry its not the full thing yet, but i promise i'm working hard and i'll post it for you sometime next week. i'm really excited about what i've written and i can't wait to show you. please enjoy the little excerpt && keep your fingers crossed for me. love you all <;3

side note: happy belated birthday to my husband yoongi, the poetry to my words, the sanity to my mind. my anchor, my everything. i miss him terribly and i love him.

warnings: clit rubbing, shyness, riding fingers, jungkook penetrates her mid-climax and has a very tender reason for it

𐙚

He moans onto your neck, nose tracing the column on its way to your ear.  “How do you touch yourself?” 

A sudden shyness overtakes you and you turn your head, needing to hide in his neck this time. You remain silent, the words lodged in your throat. 

Jungkook sees you. 

“Do you rub your little clit from side to side or in circles?” he questions, helping you answer. 

“I—I like both,” you whisper onto his skin, moving your hips so his fingers slip to your clit, the sweet spot where you need him the most. He grabs the back of your thigh and lifts it, spreading you open, meanwhile you chase the firmness of his fingers.  

“Just like that, ride them,” he husks, eyes dazed, fixed on the roll of your pelvis. “Feels good, doesn’t it?” 

Head on top of yours, you nod, never ceasing your movement, transfixed, just like him, by the constant way the pads of his fingers fondle your clit before dipping between your lips. The heat of the summer tightens in your lower belly and it’s a desperate litany of begging what your mouth utters, despite the fact you’re really not sure what you’re asking for, but you let him hear it. You’re close, so unbelievably close, yet still have a road to walk on before you, and you close your eyes to feel the delight of his touch more deeply, only to find that you manage to do nothing of the kind. 

When you sense his eyes on you and by instinct you reciprocate his stare, that’s when you feel the depth you sought after. Mouth parted, pupils dilated, eyelashes a drowsy catastrophe, messy hair casting a soft shadow over the planes of his blissed-out face. You want to kiss him. You want to make him feel as good as he’s making you feel—

“Let me do it now,” Jungkook says hurriedly, sensing the nearness of your climax.

“Yes,” you croak out, halting the movement of your hips—and ‘yes’ is the word that ripples out of your mouth a hundred, a thousand more times when he spreads you wider and rubs his fingers on your clit from side to side. 

He feels the pleasure in sync with you, accepting all of your yes’, twisting his face the moment yours does, quickening the rapidness of his hand once he switches to circles to carry you to your summer-breathed paradise. 

And when you come all over his hand, he slips two fingers inside your hole.

#lunas dark wips #jungkook x oc #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook smut #bts smut #bts imagine #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fluff #btscreatorscorner #kpop smut #jungkook one shot

[sbdskate]

Laws Of Attraction (Part 10) - DR x lawyer!fem!reader

Summary: McLaren is in breach of contract, dr3 hires a lawyer to deal with the aftermath. Tropes ensue. Slow burn. Enemies(kind of) -> Friends/colleagues -> Lovers

Pairing: lawyer!fem!reader x Daniel Ricciardo

Warnings (18+): sickening amount of fluff, language, angst, *SMUT*: oral (m + f receiving), fingering, hand job, p in v, overstimulation if you blink

Word Count: 6,892

A/N: If you’re here, congratulations! You made it to the end. A big thank you to everyone that has commented, shared, liked, etc. I can’t believe it’s been over a year since my first post. I had a vision when I started writing this in the middle of the 2022 season, not quite sure where it would lead, but I’m happy with where it landed and I hope you are too. I hope you like wine with your cheese, because this is ~cheesy~. Also, this is my first time writing smut so (1) if you are a minor please do not proceed; (2) if you do like/read smut, I would appreciate any kind of feedback. A big thank you to @cutelittlefakejourneys and @burningcupcakefire for beta-ing. Thank you @paddockbunny, @monzabee, and @silverstonesainz for the insights and words of encouragement. As always, thank you for reading.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Epilogue 1

Daniel paced the hallway. He wasn’t accustomed to not getting what he wanted. Sure, in the last few months he had had his fair share of disappointments, but this was different. He was tempted to knock on your door until you answered, but thought the better of it.

He played through the moment in his head again, no different than analyzing a post-race debrief. What went wrong and how could he improve? He was professional during the signing. He knew you loved Geri, you only casually brought up Ginger Spice in conversation no less than a dozen times over the last few months. He knew you’d love to actually meet her – who knows, if everything went well it certainly wouldn’t be the last time for you. He didn’t force himself on you – at this point he knew you were like a cat and he needed to wait for you to come to him or else he’d scare you off. It seemed like the only thing keeping you from ripping each other’s clothes off was your job. Or so he thought.

Now he was confused. It was clear you hadn’t meant to say what you said – but you said it. I could kiss you. Can’t put the toothpaste back in the tube. Four words that looped in his brain. He had spent so much time dissecting the meaning of the word “could,” he felt like he could be a lawyer too. But he had taken his time closing the space between you in the hallway. When he leaned in, you leaned in too. You had ample time to tell him off if he had misconstrued the whole thing, and he would never think less of you if you did, but you didn’t.

No, what just happened was not a rejection. You were just skittish. Like a cat hiding under a bed, you just needed to be coaxed out – slowly. You were food motivated, he’d learned that about you during your first outing in Belgium when you put down more bon bons than he thought was humanly possible. Yes, all you needed was to be approached with patience and understanding - and maybe the promise of a full belly.

-

You leaned against the door and squeezed your eyes shut, embarrassment already crashing over you like a tidal wave. You knew you were being ridiculous and immature. What was it that you were still afraid of?

You stripped off your suit immediately, it felt stuffy and heavy as you overheated, the reminder of your attorney-client relationship falling to the floor. You threw on the first thing you grabbed out of your bag - why did it have to be that pesky yellow dress again?

You paced your room for what felt like hours. Your professional activities with Daniel had officially come to its natural conclusion and yet you were still hesitant to move forward. It didn’t help that you were in a country that banned the cohabitation of unmarried couples, so really, what were you even going to do?

Despite the confessions exchanged back in Mexico and the kiss in Brazil, it was never guaranteed that anything would actually happen once Daniel’s legal affairs were settled. Frankly, you still weren’t fully convinced the conversations ever actually happened. You refused to believe the lingering stares and little touches that lasted a little too long were anything more than pure coincidence.

In spite of all of it, you remained unconvinced about how Daniel actually felt about you. Over the years of failed relationships and first dates that ranged from awkward to bad, you had grown wary and skeptical of romantic pursuits. For all you knew, all his lip-service was simply an elaborate ruse to get in your pants. You thought on this worst case scenario, which really wasn’t so bad. God forbid you have one night stand with a Formula 1 driver and live to tell the tale. It would be a lie to say you wouldn’t be hurt at first if you were correct, but you would eventually be fine. You had been happily single and independent for years, it would simply be a return to your de facto state.

And even if you could take him at his word, you couldn’t help but wonder what that relationship would look like when you had to resume work for other clients and the luxury of constant travel and proximity ceased. How would you continue to keep in touch? How often would you actually be able to see each other in person? Your first relationship was with The Firm, and you knew you weren’t ready to give up your livelihood for him. Then there was the other issue of paparazzi and tabloids - the forced spotlight that would fall on you, resulting in the lack of privacy and anonymity. You had no desire for fame, yet he seemed to be designed for it. You could go toe-to-toe with opposing counsel any day, but you weren’t sure you had his mental fortitude to withstand the cruel and unsolicited opinions of strangers on the internet.

You weighed the pros and cons over and over again in your head. For someone with such a demanding job, it made no sense that it all felt so overwhelming and complicated. But it was telling that the Australian was the first person you wanted to confide in. He was the only one who could ever quiet the constant hurricane in your mind that caused you to spiral if left unchecked. In this moment, you needed him to ground you.

You had been raised to leave hotel room minibars alone unless you wanted to bankrupt you and your entire family for two generations. Going against everything you believed, you took a nip from the stock. Hoping the small amount of liquid courage would do the trick, you checked your reflection in the mirror one last time before venturing to the room next door. You would simply have to assume the risk of the unknown aftermath.

With shaking hands, you opened the door only to be met with Daniel’s presence before you. He jumped slightly at the sudden movement. You did a poor job hiding your astonishment that left you frozen in place.

“Oh… hi?” Your eyes remained wide. He looked around and scratched the back of his head, appearing to be as surprised and confused as you were.

“Hi – I uh,” he took a moment to give you a once over. “I’m sorry are you about to go somewhere? You look nice.” You felt your face turn red immediately, the bravery you built up moments ago dissipating in an instance. He shifted his weight, quickly correcting himself. “Not that you don’t always look nice! I just – you look nicer than usual. I mean-” He seemed uncharacteristically nervous and was digging himself a hole. You looked around the hall to ensure it was empty and took a deep breath to save him from digging any deeper.

“Yes actually. I was going to see you.” He seemed surprised and relieved at the answer.

“No way, I was about to see you!” He shook his head when he saw you bite back a smile. “Obviously, I’ve been standing outside your door,” he laughed nervously, his confidence shrinking by the second. “Not for very long though! You didn’t need to know that. But I wanted to come to say I’m sorry about before, I was too forward back there. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I just figured, you know, since we went pencils down and everything, maybe we could-”

“Yes.”

“What?”

“Did I stutter?” You walked backwards as you took his hand, leading him through the doorway. He didn’t fight your lead.

“-you don’t know what I was going to ask.” You leaned back, allowing the door to click behind you under your weight.

“It doesn’t matter. The answer is yes.” You gave him a reassuring smile and gently squeezed his hand bringing him closer. “With you it will always be yes.” It seemed both of you were at a loss for words, but they were unnecessary as he took a step towards you closing the small gap that remained. His eyes were enchantingly curious as they gazed into yours. You only looked away for a millisecond, distracted by the tongue that broke free from his mouth to moisten his plump lips. You took a deep inhale in anticipation, your heartbeat bordering on palpitations as his lips closed in.

The moment they met yours, immediately you knew you never wanted boundaries with this man ever again. One hand cupped the side of your face while the other grabbed your waist to pull you closer. You wrapped your arms around his neck in an effort to eliminate any remaining iota of space between the two of you. Your lips danced and moved together in unison, neither of you wanting to come up for air. His firm calloused hands roamed your body, unsure of where to rest. There were so many parts of you he had never touched before and he wanted desperately to become acquainted with them as quickly as possible. He squeezed your shoulders, ran them down the lengths of your arms, moved to the small of your back up towards your neck, in your hair.

The feverishness of it all began to slow, as he tried to memorize every peak and valley. He reverently moved his hands from your waist, dragging them up the length of your spine, one hand finding its way to your hair as though he wanted to remember every hair follicle, the other keeping your body firmly pressed against his. The leisurely pace only teased you, and each spot he touched left your body buzzing. He slowly brought his other hand to find yours again, repositioning so your fingers interlocked. The sweet gesture felt suddenly sinful when he pinned them to the wall, dragging them up the door until they were next to your head. The motion made your head spin, warmth spreading between your thighs, and you inadvertently let out a soft moan.

Ravenous for more, he firmly pressed your bodies together against the door, almost knocking the wind out of you. He pulled away only for a moment, his eyes pleading.

Can I?

You nodded your head frantically, capturing his mouth once more while guiding his hands to the parts you desperately needed touched. One gently cupped your breast while the other roughly grabbed your ass, kneading the muscles underneath. You both groaned in unison at the new sensation.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to touch you,” he mouthed breathlessly before finding your neck, hoping the feeling was mutual. You didn’t say anything back, but he could tell from the pant of your breath and the pulse under his lips that it was. You threw your head back as he sucked, licked, and nipped at the sweet spot as he gently grazed his thumb over your bra, immediately feeling your nipple form into a stiff peak underneath. Being mindful of your noise level, you bit back a moan that ended up coming out as a pathetic whimper. You shamelessly pushed your hips against his and squeezed his hand on your breast, encouraging him to explore and desperate for more contact.

You instinctively widened your stance for him to perch himself between your legs. His hand played with the waistband of your underwear through your dress, trailing down to your inner upper thigh.

“Stop teasing,” you hissed. He only smiled into the kiss in response, his tongue pushing into your mouth to shut you up.

Your hands followed their own curious whims. Those pecs that you had gotten an eyeful of several times felt warm and firm under your touch. Your palm dragged down the ripples of his abs, gently landing over the front of his pants. You gasped feeling him harden under your touch for the first time, eliciting a low growl from him in return. His hips pushed forward in frustration, eager for more. You allowed him some relief, undoing his belt and pants, cautiously reaching inside. Your eyes widened.

“Holy shit,” you muttered as you grabbed around his length, your hand suddenly feeling quite small. He looked you dead in the eye, that familiar cocky smirk and twinkle returning to his face.

“Come on,” he flashed you a wicked grin. “You knew it had to be big.” You laughed at his boldness, which only inspired him to double down. “I know how to use it too.”

“That’s some awfully big talk.” You already had goosebumps from your head to your toes, but you weren’t going to let him know that just yet. You would make sure he worked for it. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“It’s not the only thing I know how to use.”

He captured your mouth in a gentle, chaste kiss as he used one hand to pull up the hem of your dress. His other hand snuck under the skirt, slowly dragging it across your skin. Rough and calloused from racing, they felt tantalizingly delicate.

“I was going to prove it, but it looks like I already convinced you.” He drew little spirals around your clit over your panties, barely applying any pressure. You bit your lip and looked up to the ceiling, praying for relief from the building tension. To your chagrin, his hand began to pull away.

“No. Please,” was all you could muster, your brain searching for more eloquent words that escaped you.

“Please what?” You reached for his crotch, hoping the action would suffice as an answer, but he grabbed your wrist to pin it to the door. “You have to use your words.” You felt the words on his breath that seeped through your skin.

“Please touch me.” Frustrated, you used your free hand to try to get him to fully take your dress off which was only getting in the way. He obliged, releasing your other hand to get a hold of the fabric. You put your arms up as he gathered the material over your head. Throwing the garment aside, he pulled away slightly to observe you for a moment. His eyes widening as they moved down your frame, trying and failing to hide his growing smirk.

“Do you always wear pretty underwear when you close a deal? Or are these for me?” He played with the pink lacy textile between his fingers, admiring how they accentuated the contour of your waist and hips.

“Both,” you gasped as he dragged a finger down your front. It passed over your clit, down to the fabric covering your entrance, smiling feeling how embarrassingly soaked you already were through the thin material.

With a chaste kiss on the cheek, he proceeded to leave a trail of kisses down your neck, chest, stomach, until he reached the hem of fabric. He continued over the garment, bypassing the spot he knew you needed him to your inner thigh. The gentle touches and the scruff of his beard almost tickled, panting as he moved down your body.

He looped his thumbs around the sides of your thong, pausing to look up hopefully for permission. You nodded with lidded, lustful eyes. He couldn’t hide his dimples and he continued to tease, dragging your panties slowly down your legs, taking care to pick up each foot to get you out of them. Your heart swelled as you observed him treating you so delicately, like a fragile porcelain doll. His trail of kisses started again from the bottom, beginning at your ankle, to the inside of your knee and again to your upper thigh until he reached an apex.

“Hold on.” You weren’t sure what he meant at first. Then without warning, he grabbed your hip and threw your opposite leg over his shoulder, finally diving into your center. Your hands instinctively found their way to his head to stabilize yourself, accidentally letting out a yelp in the process which soon after turned into a low moan as his tongue swirled slow circles around your clit. “You taste so fucking good,” he mumbled into your skin.

The vision of him on his knees fully clothed, contrasted with your nakedness enhanced his touch and sent you spiraling. Your hands raked through his gorgeous curls as he lapped you up. The pressure he applied gradually increased, culminating to him inserting a finger in you, then two. You slapped a hand over your mouth as the pressure pooled and he found his rhythm with his tongue and fingers. He knew you were close when your legs started to shake and squeezed around him. The waves came crashing over you as you bucked your hips erratically. He removed his fingers so that he could stabilize you, but his mouth never stopped.

He finally put your other leg back on the ground when your hips slowed and stood up. Your legs almost buckled from underneath you but he caught you before you could fall, lifting you to walk to the bed.

You watched him carry you wordlessly, your brain still short circuiting from your orgasm only knowing enough to wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. Not because you thought he’d drop you, but because you wanted to be as close to him as possible. It still wasn’t close enough.

He sat himself down on the bed with you landing in his lap, legs still wrapped tightly. There had never been a time where the two of you have been in the same room and exchanged so few words. You continued to stare at each other, simply amazed to be in the same space and sharing skin after three long anguished months of resisting forbidden fruit.

Your gaze fell to his swollen lips that you desperately wanted to taste again, still shiny with your essence. His hand pressed up your back until he grabbed a fistful of hair, bringing you in fervently for another kiss. It was the kind of kiss that enveloped you, that turned your legs to water and caused currents in you to flow creating bountiful energy that begged for release. Your hands roamed from his shoulders, down his chest and abs to the hem of his shirt. The two of you pried it off together and he threw it somewhere on the floor. Your mouths met again gluing your torsos together, your currents crashing in a tidal wave of electricity and emotion.

You unwrapped your legs to straddle him, lightly pushing him backwards. He pulled you with him as you both fell into the bed, smiling into each other and little giggles filling the air. You rolled your hips over him, annoyed with the layers that still separated you from the waist down. You reached down, sloppily pushing at his pants to demonstrate your displeasure. He understood your message, weaving his arms past you to finish the job and shimmying his legs until they were off. You reached down the waistband of his boxer briefs, teasing your fingertips just underneath but not going further. It thrilled you to feel his muscles tense underneath your touch. He nipped your bottom lip when your hand moved further south, and you could feel his jaw clench.

He pulled away suddenly, and you couldn’t place the look on his face which made you nervous.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing! It’s just…” his hand cupped the side of your face, caressing your cheek. “We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to.”

Your heart swelled at how delicate he was with you, at how much he cared. But you didn’t want to be treated delicately. And now you almost felt bad about how much you’d teased him up to this point. Almost.

“Do you know,” you said sitting up, your hand ghosting over the outline of him through his boxer briefs, “I had a sex dream about you. Right before the Japanese Grand Prix.”

“No,” he ground out.

“You had my legs spread on a desk in some McLaren office.” You felt his whole body clench again as you slid the last piece of clothing down his legs. As though the thought hadn’t crossed his mind every time you admonished him for not paying attention or not taking things seriously in those early days. The frequency of course increased, to every time you bent over, smiled, or played with your hair, to simply existing. For once, he was the one blushing and you found it entirely endearing. “I’ve literally dreamt of fucking you for three months. I want you and I need you. Now.”

His pupils dilated at your words, and his hands moved possessively from your face down to your ass where his fingers sank into your skin hoping to mark and keep you. He tried to find the words to communicate how badly he wanted and needed you too, but blood was no longer flowing to his brain and no words seemed perfect enough for you. His shaft twitched against his toned stomach, eager for your touch. You relieved him, wrapping your full hand around his impressive length pumping up and down a few times, your gentle grip slowly firming with each stroke.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. His hand found your waist and you felt his grip tighten as you continued. You slithered down his body until your mouth aligned with him, spitting over his tip. He felt voyeuristic watching the saliva drip from your tongue. You looked up to see him gripping the sheets for dear life.

“Is that alright?” He nodded fervently.

“Only if you want to,” he croaked out. Bless this man, who just wanted to make sure you were comfortable even though it looked like his eyes were going to roll back into his head.

“I do. Very much,” you insisted. You dragged your tongue slowly from the base of his shaft to his tip. “You made me feel good.” Lick. “Now I want to make you feel good.” His shallow breath hitched when you finally took him in your mouth. Your eyes watered as he hit the back of your throat, you looked up to make sure he was still breathing. You found him slack jawed, but eyes full of lust. He brought a hand to your head. You prepared your gag reflex expecting him to force your rhythm, but instead simply pushed your hair out of your face.

“Fuck, you look so good.” You felt the slickness spread between your thighs at his praise, adding a hand to his base where your mouth couldn’t quite reach. You increased your speed, moaning into him. He happily absorbed the vibrations, reflexively bucking his hips into you. You tasted salty precum at his tip and could tell he was close.

“W-wait,” you slowed your pace but didn’t remove him as you looked up again. “I don’t want to finish yet. Not like this.” You slowly pried yourself off him, finishing with a satisfying *pop* as you released him. You saw his chest rise and fall at an alarming rate. He helped pull you up, interlocking your fingers in the process.

“What do you want?” you asked, knowing you would do whatever came out of his mouth without hesitation.

“Grab my jeans?” You couldn't hide your skepticism, but nonetheless begrudgingly left the nicest seat you’ve ever known to find his pants somewhere on the floor. You resumed your spot on his lap as he frantically searched his pockets, finally locating his wallet and fished out a condom. Everything else found its way back to the ground. Eyes wide, he maintained a death grip on the condom. “You’re sure?”

You smiled. You thumbed his jawline as you brought your foreheads together. “I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life.” It took him about four seconds to process what you said, but when he did closed the gap between your lips in a messy and desperate kiss that sucked the air out of you. It dizzied him too and only pulled away when he remembered he had to open the condom. You leaned back to give him some space as he struggled with the wrapper. His brow furrowed in frustration as he tried to steady his shaky hands.

“I swear I’m usually a lot smoother than this,” he muttered. You bit back a laugh.

“I believe you.”  

“You just make me nervous,” he admitted, uncharacteristically bashful. “In case you couldn’t tell.”

“Hardly noticed,” you said sarcastically, but reassured him with a giggle. “It’s very endearing, if it makes you feel any better.” You calmly grabbed it from him.

“It does,” he confessed as he let you take it from his hands. Without breaking eye contact, you ripped the wrapper easily with your teeth. You felt him twitch under you as you wriggled yourself against him in content, allowing him to feel your arousal. He swallowed thickly. “Where did you learn that?”

“That’s for me to know and for you to find out,” you smirked. You moved off him for a moment, and he took the chance to stroke himself a few times, watching you absentmindedly. How your hair, now perfectly tousled, fell around your shoulders. How gravity worked miracles on the swell of your breasts. How your waist sloped into your hips and thighs. You patiently presented the condom back to him and he used all his concentration to take it from you to roll it down his length. He looked at you hopefully when he was done and you rewarded him with another kiss, your hair cascading around the two of you creating a protective curtain around your new little intimate universe.

You both watched as you eased yourself onto his cock, voyeurs of your own lust. Your moans harmonized as he bottomed out. You felt deliciously stretched and full. Complete. You began slow to adjust to his size, teasing him in the process with your agonizing pace, rising up to the point of almost dismount before sinking back down again engulfing his full length.

“Does this feel good?” you cooed, already knowing the answer as you swirled your hips with him bottomed out inside you, tormentingly slow.

“Yes. Fuck yes,” he groaned as he palmed your ass. “You’re so fucking tight.” You dragged a hand from his chest, down the ripples of his abs, towards where the two of you intercepted. With his jaw clenched, he sank his fingers in your hips, trying unsuccessfully to steady them as you continued to rock. “You look so good with me inside you.”

He lifted his hips to meet yours as proof of his enjoyment, the new angle jolting you forward slightly. A moan escaped as you found a rhythm as you rolled your hips back and forth, itching for the friction of his skin against your already swollen clit. Your pace quickened as his length hit that sacred spot deep in your core over and over. The bounce of your tits mesmerized him. Unable to resist, his mouth found a nipple, flicking his tongue back and forth over the sensitive peak that had you seeing stars.

“Fuck, I’m so close,” you whimpered. You felt the pressure pool and coil in your lower abdomen. Your eyes closed when he grabbed the back of your head, gently pulling your hair.

“Look at me. I want you to look at me when you come.” All you could do was nod in response, worried that any sound you might let out at that point would alert the whole building. It was impossible to look away from his gaze even if you wanted to. You bit your lip as the pressure continued to build, hypnotized by the repetition and sensory overload. You rocked back onto him a final time before reaching your release, collapsing on forward onto his chest and his name falling off your tongue like a prayer as your hips slowed and stuttered.

Yes

Daniel

He’d never heard a more beautiful sound before. His mouth caught yours again, absorbing the moans that continued as you rode out your orgasm. He wrapped an arm around your lower back to pull you flush to his chest and began to upthrust, building to an excruciating pace. You held onto his shoulders for dear life.

“W-what are you doing?” You knew you sounded pathetic, barely able to form the sentence. He smirked.

“Getting you to Number Three.”

“I can’t,” you whined. He pulled you close and rolled the two of you over, taking care to remain buried inside of you. You gasped at the sudden movement, eyes wide when you landed on your back.

“Three’s my lucky number.” He gave a few slow pumps before pushing himself up to spread your legs. He admired the change in your face at each new angle, each expression more perfect than the next. He brought his thumb down to your clit and watched you whither under his touch. With the new view he knew he wouldn’t last much longer. “Don’t worry, I’ll do the work this time.”

You couldn’t argue with his logic. The only response you could give were incantations of profanities as he fucked you into the mattress and his gentle finger rubbing the sensitive nub just above where your bodies joined. He glistened as beads of sweat formed over his body, enhancing the contours of his muscles with each thrust. It was all too much. You felt your walls begin to clench again, your body eagerly anticipating its reward.

Daniel saw your mouth mold into an “o”, the slight twitch of your muscles, and felt the pressure that was building inside you. He prayed you were close knowing that his stamina would soon run out.

“That’s it. Come for me.” Daniel counted his blessings that he should be so lucky to have a front row seat, not once, not twice, but three times to your orgasms. You were so beautiful. Too beautiful. He couldn’t stop himself from chasing his own high as he watched you twist and contort under him. His thrusts became more frantic and erratic as your moans filled the room until he spilled into you, lurching forward but catching himself before fully collapsing on top of you.

Finally the motions stopped, except for the quickened rise and fall of your chests as you both tried to catch your breath. You blinked at each other a few times, still unable to move or think. Daniel broke the silence.

“Holy shit.” You couldn’t help the stupid grin that formed. You pressed a hand to his cheek just to make sure he was still real.

“That good, huh?” He begrudgingly began to move and pulled out of you, rolling over to your side. He propped himself on his elbow and looked down on you, absentmindedly drawing patterns on your soft belly.  

“I was just going to ask if you wanted to grab dinner. But that was way better.” You both laughed as you nuzzled into each other, still peppering the other with butterfly kisses and holding onto the belief that the world was the size of a queen-size bed.

Eventually he got up to go to the bathroom. As soon as he left your side, the intrusive thoughts returned and you began mentally preparing yourself for the inevitable goodbye. You watched silently as he searched the floor for his underwear, blissfully unaware of your inner turmoil. This was fun you repeated in your head. It will be a good story to tell you tried convincing yourself.  

He came back to bed and snuggled up against you.

“Now what?” he asked innocently. You squinted back at him, laughing slightly.  

“That’s an awfully loaded question, don’t you think?” He seemed confounded for a moment.

“I mean, I was just thinking we could get food now? What were you thinking?” You forgot that men could be such simple creatures. Maybe it was the audacity that allowed them to go about life blissfully unaware or unconcerned about hypothetical what if’s and unintended consequences of their actions. But for now, maybe you needed to think like a man too. You didn’t need to solve all the world’s problems in one night. Maybe all you needed was to just enjoy whatever this was for whatever time was left before you got on a flight tomorrow to return to reality.

“Yeah, I guess I worked up an appetite.” He broke into a wide grin. He grabbed your face to bless you with a kiss on the forehead before fetching the menu.

“Great. I’ll order us room service.”

-

Your eyes fluttered open the next morning. Scenes from the night before played on a loop in your head. Sweaty bodies entangled in a sea of limbs. In your experience, men who were that charismatic and that good looking rarely knew what to do with the bodies they had been blessed with. And yet…

You were afraid to open your eyes, not ready to let go of the memory that brought a smile to your face so you kept them closed a bit longer. Instead, you extended a hesitant hand to the other side of the bed expecting to feel the warm body of your evening companion, but you felt nothing. You reluctantly opened your eyes.

“Dan?” Your voice was soft and hoarse from sleep. Nothing. Maybe he hadn’t heard you.

“Daniel?” You tried again, a bit louder this time. Still no response.

You slowly got out of bed half asleep, the line between your dreams and the real world still not quite defined. You zombie-walked to the window, delicately drawing back the blackout curtains of the hotel room. You winced as your eyes adjusted to the natural light. Your clothes were still on the floor where they had been unceremoniously discarded, but the other outfit that had kept them company had disappeared. Your heart fell.

“Daniel?” you tried one last time, voice cracking slightly. Maybe he was in the bathroom. Maybe he had eaten something bad yesterday. You knocked on the door before cautiously opening it. You stood in the doorway a beat too long, unable to move from the empty space. He had been so convincing, so charming, and you fell for it. You had been so guarded and careful, you thought you had sniffed out any unsavory motives and you still were left feeling used and abandoned.

You blinked back tears before they could fall, hiding your defeat from no one in particular in the privacy of your hotel room. You wiped your eyes, chugged a glass of water, for some masochist reason put on your Enchante sweatshirt and got back into bed. It was still early, maybe you could sleep another few hours before you had to get ready to go to the airport. Maybe that sleep would help you forget and ease the overwhelming humiliation and melancholy that fell over you.

As you began to drift off, a noise at the door startled you awake. You realized it was the sound of the door key and grabbed sheets to cover yourself quickly, unsure what else to do.

“I’m not ready for housecleaning!” you yelled uncertainly, praying it was in fact hotel staff and not a burglar.

“Hey hey hey, it’s just me. Good morning to you too.” You slowly peaked your head from under the covers, shocked at the sound of the reassuring, achingly familiar Australian accent. The driver stood in the foyer, his hands overflowing with bags and precariously balancing two coffee cups. You sat up a bit more as you processed the sight in front of you.

“What-?” you trailed off. He seemed nervous, but a smile never left his face.

“I, uh, wanted to surprise you with breakfast. There’s a little place down the street. But you looked so peaceful sleeping and I didn’t want to wake you, so I grabbed your room key. But I realized when I got there I didn’t know what you liked, and my phone died, so I kind of got one of everything…I hope that’s ok. I didn’t mean to scare you –“

As he rambled, you had silently gotten out of bed to grab the cups from his hands, placing them on the table along with the insane amount of bags, one by one. With all obstacles removed, you enveloped your arms around his neck and stamped his lips with a kiss. He was surprised by the sudden gesture but returned it eagerly, his hands still familiarizing themselves with you. He blinked a few times when you pulled away.

“I promise I will get breakfast for you every day if you like it that much.” You laughed with a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes, and you looked away.

“I thought you left,” your small voice shrank in embarrassment that you had jumped to conclusions so quickly. You couldn’t bring yourself to explain further.

But you didn’t have to. He wrapped you in a bear hug crushing you into his chest, his lips nuzzled into the crown of your head, his body heat invigorating you.

“I’m sorry, I should have texted or let you know where I was.”

“No, it’s silly. I was being overdramatic.”

“It’s not silly. And I’m not going anywhere.”

“But what does that mean?” you asked in exasperation. He pulled away and looked at you in disbelief that you would even ask such a question.

“What do you want it to mean?” You bit your lip in frustration.

“Daniel, don’t be obtuse. In a couple of hours we’re getting on different planes to go to opposite sides of the world.”

“And?”

“We’re not going to see each other.”

“Well then it’s a good thing I know people with private jets.”

“I still have to work.”

“I’ll come to you.”

“My apartment is small.”

“I can pack light.”

“What if you meet someone else when we’re not together?” He let out an irritated sigh.

“I don’t want to meet anyone else.”

You were stumped. He could read the confused look on your face and gently grabbed the sides of your shoulders. “You know, for someone so smart you can be really dumb sometimes.” You crossed your arms.

“Hey!”

“I know it’s hard for you to believe for some reason, but I want to give this a real shot. I want to take you on a proper date. See what things look like when I’m not paying you to spend time with me.”

You looked down, feeling a little guilty about how much you doubted him. You couldn’t help that you were risk averse by nature.

“Did you just… Socratic method me to get me to understand that you like me?”

“Did it work?”

“Let’s just say you have a bright future as a law school professor if this whole driving thing doesn’t work out.” You paused for a moment, still trying to wrap your head around everything. “So… you really want to give this a go?” He rolled his eyes.

“Is it really that hard to believe?”

“I mean – yeah, a little. The world that you operate in is just so much different than mine. Your world consists of beautiful people.”

“You’re beautiful,” he retorted. You blushed but didn’t let the comment throw you off your stride.

“You know what I mean. Your world is glamorous and luxurious. My world is average. It’s a lot of take-out, it’s late nights on the phone with Joe, it’s boring suits, it’s work - without the recognition and without the spotlight. You could have any actress or model or singer in the world and you pick me. Can you blame me for being skeptical?” His face fell slightly as he realized that you didn’t think your shine was bright enough for him. But it was quickly replaced with something mischievous.

“What are you talking about? You’re a singer,” he said matter-of-factly. You rolled your eyes.

“You’ve unfortunately seen me do karaoke, we both know that’s a lie.”

“Your morning shower performances beg to differ.” He laughed at the terror that flashed before your eyes as you threw your hands over your mouth, but quickly reassured you. “I’ve listened to you every morning since we got here. It’s the best part of my day, until I see you.” He pried your hands from your face, holding them in his. “And the last thing you are, is average. Can we please just try?”

You bit your lip, unable to contain the blush spurred by his words of affirmation. The squeeze of his hands on yours caused the dormant butterflies in your stomach to flutter their delicate wings and rise to your chest. A comforting warmth enveloped you, it rose to your cheeks and the answer was there plain as day on your face for him and the world to see. No, it couldn’t hurt to try.

“Only if… you’ll do a duet with me.” After holding his breath for what seemed like eternity, his joy and happiness hanging in the balance waiting for your response, he broke into a toothy grin that used every dimple and laugh line on his face. Without skipping a beat, he threw you over his shoulder and made his way to the bathroom leaving a trail of your giggles in his wake.

“I’m ready for my audition.”

#daniel ricciardo smut #daniel ricciardo #f1 #laws of attraction #formula 1 smut #daniel ricciardo fanfic #daniel ricciardo imagine #dr3 #danny ric #daniel ricciardo x reader #f1 x reader #reader x f1 #reader x dr3 #danny ric fanfic #danny ric x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 #formula one #formula one fanfiction #formula 1 x you #formula 1 imagine #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #formula one imagine #f1 fandom #f1 2023 #suits #lawyered #wine and cheese

[storiesforthemoonchild]

Say It | Alessia Russo x Reader

Finally posting this because I will have the distraction of Friendsgiving. Nervous so be nice. First time writing a fic.

Warnings: alcohol, soft smut... kinda toxic kinda fluffy idk

The loud and incessant knocking jolted Alessia from her sleep. She looked around trying to gather herself only to jump when the pounding began again. She knew it was you, for the last 4 months it was always you.

She kicks back the covers and makes her way through her flat, the knocking finally ceasing. She peeks at the time on the stove on her way, 2:13am. Looking through the hole in the door and she is met with the sight of you slumping against her door frame. 

“It’s 2am,” is the unimpressed greeting she gives you. 

However, she can’t help but match the smile that breaks across your face from seeing her. “Lessi, I missed you,” you confess, moving to wrap your arms around her. 

Alessia hates that she melts into your touch. Instinctively folding herself into you, face buried in your neck she places a few soft kisses before pulling away. Even after being woken up at 2am all she wants is to be in your presence. She wants to be consumed by your scent, your hands, your voice, and everything else that makes you, you.

The last six months Alessia has been falling for you through secret meetups, phone calls and first times. You come from different worlds and she doesn’t fully understand your life but it doesn’t matter when it’s just you and her. You’re different when you’re laid up in her flat rather than surrounded by people in a packed club. You’re gentle with her, caring, and soft as you let the cold exterior you present vanish in those moments. 

Alessia Russo is everything good in this world, and your worlds should have never collided. The party girl popstar from New York and the English footballer. 

“Come on then,” Alessia sighs with a smile tugging at her mouth. This part was routine. She would usher you to the kitchen, pour you a glass of water and observe you. Study you trying to see what kind of night she was in for. 

There were three different moods you usually showed up to her house in, but all including a certain level of intoxication no matter the time of day. It was something she noticed early on in getting to know you. A glass of some form of alcohol is always an extension of your hand. A shot of whiskey in your morning coffee, a beer over the football match, or a glass of wine with dinner. You would say it’s to ease the stress, which she understood but she hates it. There were moments of course when you were sober but they came few and far between. She didn’t push you, she accepted the ways you cope with the difficulties your life came with. 

The first mood you’d arrive in was grumpy. While not her favorite she adored grumpy you. On those days you hadn’t drank too much, a glass or two of something to get the creative juices flowing you would tell her. Usually grumpy after a frustrating studio session where you couldn’t play a chord right or get a chorus in the right key.

“Tell me what you need,” she asked the first time.

“Nothing. I just wanted to be with you Less. You make me feel better,” you told her perched on her kitchen counter with your head hanging low in defeat. 

A blush covered her cheeks as she wiggled her way between your legs before whispering, “say it again.”

You look up a smile threatening to creep through, "I only want you. I always want to be with you Alessia.”

“I’m yours (y/n).” It was true, but not official. You both loved whispering sweet nothings and words of assurance in the darkness of her flat but never mentioned a word of it by sunrise. “Let's go to bed.”

That’s all grumpy you needed, words of affirmation and head rubs to soothe the frustration while wrapped up in one of her Arsenal jumpers. You wouldn't want Alessia to move even an inch away from you after you finally got cuddled up in bed. 

Alessia’s least favorite was when you showed up inconsolable after way too many drinks from your night out with one Leah Williamson. Those nights she contemplates if she should’ve listened to Leah’s warnings to stay away from you. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to be there for you, she did, but you always broke her heart a little on those nights. She hated seeing you so broken and lost with barely any control over your body. It amazed her how you always found your way to her even then. Those nights always ended in a gut wrenching confession before you dozed to add to her already broken heart. 

Alessia attempted to sober you up to no avail with glasses of water and a cup of tea meant to calm you. “Come, let’s go to bed (y/n).”

Your tears were gone, but the guilt was still present in your head as you wordlessly took her hand and allowed yourself to be led into the bedroom. Alessia was gentle while stripping your clothes and wiping off makeup in between soft kisses to your tear stained cheeks. The silence was deafening. She knew by now some sort of confession was soon to come, but she was weak for you. She would let her own heart break every day just to have you by her side. 

“Are you okay? Do you think you’ll be sick?” She asks tracing the features of your jaw as you lay facing one another. 

She knows from the hesitation in your eyes what’s coming. The way your eyes frantically take in every part of her like it could be gone in a second, “I- I’m sorry Lessi. I didn’t mean to and it was selfish to come here to you after.” The confession… vague as usual still hurts. “I only want you Lessi. Nobody makes me feel the way you do.”

“Let’s go to sleep (y/n),” she never pushes for more. The times she had were unbearable. 

“Do you hate me?” It’s mumbled and full of insecurity. 

Alessia closes her eyes and takes a breath. Even if she wanted to hate you, she couldn't. “I could never hate you.”

That makes the tears return. You tuck your face into her neck breathing in the comforting scent, “it was just… just a kiss it meant nothing. I’m sorry. I’m yours, I just- I had too much and-” she doesn’t let you finish not wanting to know more. 

“Please (y/n),” it’s so desperate and full of pain. “Sleep please.”

Those nights were the worst, and it always resulted in you waking up alone. Alessia allows you to fall into a drunken slumber before slipping out of your arms and moving to the guest bedroom to cry herself to sleep. As usual, no words were exchanged about it in the morning after she made yet another excuse for you. ‘It’s not cheating if she’s not really mine,’ she would tell herself to not be upset. You’d make your way to the kitchen and wrap your arms around her as she cooks. Alessia would be desperate for the touch after being deprived of it all night. You hated yourself on those mornings and Alessia did too, but she wouldn’t admit it. There hadn’t been a moment like that in a while and Alessia didn’t know which was worse, knowing it had happened or being left to wonder if it did.

Her favorite was somewhere in the middle. You’d be giddy from your light buzz full of compliments and cheeky flirtation. Needy in the best way possible and unable to keep your hands to yourself. As she turns to pour you a glass of water she knows that’s the exact night she’s in for today. 

“Baby,” you whisper, hands slipping under her hoodie. “You look beautiful.” 

Her abs twitch under your touch and you can’t help but smirk into her neck. She releases a deep sigh as she spins around in your hold, “drink love.”

“Kiss first?” You pucker your lips dramatically, sitting the glass aside and trapping her between the counter and your body. 

Alessia meets you halfway with a smile gracing her face. She pecks your lips a few times never letting you deepen it, “proper kiss baby love,” you tease in an attempt to mock her accent. She rolls her eyes as her smile widens even more. She can still taste the liquor that you tried to mask behind mints. 

“I’ve missed you, three days is too long to be away from you. I need you,” you tell her, pulling away to look in her eyes as they flutter back open. 

“I’m right here, love. Drink so we can go to bed,” you nod and pick up the glass knowing she won’t let you move until you do. “Good job,” she praises, rewarding you with another peck to the lips. 

She wiggles out from between you and the counter grasping your hand to drag you along with her, “tell me you missed me too Lessi,” you whine. 

She glances at you over her shoulder as a smirk pulls at her lips, “I enjoyed the alone time.”

You stop letting your hand fall from hers as she makes her way back towards bed, “I thought of you at every moment and you didn’t miss me at all?”

“Thought of me at every moment, but you got back to London hours ago and are only making it here to me at 2am? I’m sure you thought of other things, love,” she says it jokingly but you can tell there’s a bit of truth to it. 

“Should I not have come?” You bring yourself between her legs as she sits on the edge of the bed. 

“No baby, I’m happy to see you, but it would be nice if you came earlier. A girl needs her beauty sleep. Plus training starts back soon, so no more late night visits for you.”

You cup her cheek and lean down to kiss her, “You’re the most beautiful girl in the world, a few missed nights won’t hurt.”

“Cheesy, I missed you too.”

“Good, I wrote a song about you,” you confess crawling your way on top of her as she makes her way up the bed. 

“What?” There’s a look of surprise before she smirks.

“I missed you the whole time I was gone, so on the flight back I wrote a song…about you.” You lean down, placing open mouthed kisses along her neck.

She puts a hand to your chest to push you away before you can connect your lips with hers, “what is the song about?”

“The blue eyed girl in North London.”

She scoffs, pushing you aside with a pout, “everyone will think the song is about Leah ya know yeah?”

You met Leah first when she was on holiday in New York. You quickly became friends; she was now someone you trusted and cared for deeply. You didn’t have many close friends and the defender was a godsend in your life. There were of course rumors when the two of you started hanging around, so you understood where Alessia was coming from. 

No one knew you and the striker were involved, not even Leah. It wasn’t because you wanted to hide, but when Leah introduced you she made it very clear she didn’t want you to involve yourself with her teammates. Neither of you thought it would be more than a casual thing so you never mentioned it, but boy were you wrong. 

“Baby the song is not about Leah. I don’t miss Leah’s smile when she’s not around. I don’t crave her touch, or her lips. She doesn’t invade all of my thoughts throughout the day. I don’t care who people think the song is about. I know that it’s for you because you’re the only person who makes me feel everything. I- it’s just you Lessi. You’re mine.” 

She lets you kiss her this time. It’s slow and full of every emotion you’re both too afraid to say. Alessia takes a shaky breath. “Say it,” she tells you and it makes you stop.

She didn’t have to tell you what she wanted to hear. For the last month you two have been dancing around the three words that would change everything. At this point she needed to hear it to make everything make sense. “Lessi, I can’t,” you drop your head to her shoulder. 

“Ok then, kiss me,” she demands. 

You don’t have to be told twice as you immediately connect your eager lips with hers. Attempting to put every feeling into one kiss you get frantic. Hands roaming before tugging at the bottom of her hoodie, “can I?” 

“Yes,” is Alessia’s breathless response when she meets your eyes. Your favorite blues are darker than usual, full of desire. You lift the hoodie over her head and place kisses all over her face. 

“My girl,” you whisper before once again indulging in her lips. Alessia squirms under your touch as you tug the waistband of her shorts in a silent request for permission. Clearly impatient, Alessia lifts her hips and pulls them down in one motion. “Needy girl,” you tease, running a hand along her thigh. 

“Please,” she whimpers. 

Tonight felt different. It was far from your first time with the striker, but emotions were clearly higher than usual. Alessia wasn’t one to beg usually, she enjoyed the build up and would let you take control however you pleased. So, hearing her voice, her desires shot right through you. 

You moved your kisses from her neck to her chest and then her stomach making sure there wasn’t a single inch of her skin untouched. Your hands caressed her thighs inching closer to where she wanted you most with each stroke. You place a soft kiss to the inside of her thigh and her hand moves to the back of your head trying to guide you closer. 

As you slide down the bed to get more comfortable you finally place a soft kiss to her glistening core. Alessia’s head drops back onto the pillow with a strangled moan. Hands tangled firmly in your hair to keep you in place. 

Tonight wasn’t one of those nights you wanted to tease her. You wanted her to know you would do anything she desired. You take the first swipe through her folds and are rewarded with a glorious moan. It urges you on wanting to draw more of them out of the striker. You make sure she’s well worked up before slipping your fingers inside her, tongue moving to focus on the girl's already sensitive clit. 

“You are so fucking beautiful,” you breath out. You can’t explain it but tonight is overwhelming. You are so consumed by Alessia mentally and physically. She reacts to every single touch and it is too much for you. She is addicting from the way she tasted, how she felt, the way she moaned your name it was all so much. 

You reach up to play with her chest still working relentlessly inside her when you feel it. Your hands still and your tongue stops moving as Alessia’s head shoots up from the pillow to look at you with a glare. “Fuck,” you mumble into her core embarrassingly as your core clenches, forehead dropping to her stomach. Alessia’s eyes widen and a moan escapes her throat when she realizes why you stopped. 

Your own orgasm comes out of nowhere causing a string of curses to drop from your mouth. You take a moment to let it ride out fingers still buried deep inside the striker who’s staring at you jaw slacked and pupils blown. You don’t even know how to proceed as shame washes over you from orgasming from simply pleasuring her. 

It’s the needy moan from Alessia that finally makes you tilt your head up and meet her gaze, “I-I’m sorry that was…” you trail off unable to explain yourself only to see her shake her head. 

“No, no that was… wow you’re… fuck. C’mere, kiss me,” she pants as you resume your ministrations to her core and move up her body to meet her lips in a sloppy kiss. She can barely keep up with the kiss between each moan so you kiss down her jaw to her neck sucking harshly. You feel them vibrate from her throat. “Baby, I’m cl-,” she pants, unable to finish as her eyes close tightly. 

She didn’t have to tell you, you could feel her walls tightening around your fingers. You pick up your already relentless pace and place a delicate kiss to the side of her mouth that’s hanging open as beautiful moans fall out. “Look at me,” you demand and blue eyes snap to yours immediately. “I wanna see your pretty eyes as you fall apart screaming my name,” you tell her as you swipe your thumb across her clit knowing that’s all it’ll take to send her over the edge. 

“Fuck (y/n),” it’s moaned in the best way possible, and it’s the most beautiful sight you’ve ever seen. Face flushed, back arched, toes curled, hands gripping desperately at the sheets below you, jaw slacked producing the most delicious sounds, and eyes fighting to stay on you before they eventually roll back. Alessia Russo was divine. Your fingers slow but don’t stop until she’s completely rid out her orgasm and flutters her eyes back to you with a dopey smile.

You had no words for the moment and didn’t trust your voice anyway. You lean back down, again hoping to put every ounce of your heart into one kiss. Alessia reciprocates with the same eagerness to convey every emotion. Until she pulls away and a heartbreaking sob escapes from her causing you to freeze. 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, keep kissin’,” Alessia pleads, trying to pull you back down. 

“Alessia,” you whisper, moving yourself  to lay beside her and wipe the tears away from her blushed cheeks. “Talk to me,” you beg, pulling the covers up over her body. 

“No, I’m okay, sorry,” she tells you, burying her face in your neck. 

“You’re not or you wouldn’t be crying. Did I do something wrong?”

“No, you were perfect, baby. Absolutely amazing. I loved everything. I’m just a little emotional I guess. It was a lot.”

“It was a lot for me too. That’s… I’ve never done… that before,” you say blushing as you think back to what happened. 

“That was sensational,” she tells you. 

“Tell me what’s going through your head right now.”

She pauses as her eyes close, unable to keep your gaze any longer, “I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

Your heart drops as that’s the last thing you expected to hear, “what? What did I do wrong? I swear I can fix it. I know I’ve made mistakes, believe me when I say I’m sorry. I will be better. I have been better Alessia, believe me.”

“We- I don’t want to be your secret anymore. I don’t want to be your 2am visit. You give me so much and so little at the same time.”

“I’ll give you the world Alessia.”

She smiles sadly, “I know but you can’t even tell me how you feel. You tell me that I’m yours, but you’re not even mine. I… I don’t even want to know what you do when you’re not with me. It’s unfair, but I want to be selfish with you. I’m not trying to pressure you into anything, but you have me (y/n). I am yours, my heart is yours on a silver platter.”

“There’s no one else Alessia,” you were desperate. “I’m right here. What else do you want from me?”

“It doesn’t matter. Let’s go to sleep. I'm just overwhelmed like I said that was a lot,” she leans into your body wrapping herself into your hold. 

You both go silent. You pull her impossibly closer, running your hand up and down the length of her back. You want to provide some sense of comfort as you feel her sigh against your neck. “I’m terrified, Lessi.”

It takes a while before you hear her respond, “of what?”

You take your own moment before answering, “I’m terrified of how happy you make me, of possibly losing my best friend when she finds out I slept with her teammate behind her back, of being destroyed when you realize that I’m not worth your time. All of it. I’m so scared of admitting that I’ve never wanted anything more than I want you. That I’ve never felt what I feel for you. It’s all new to me. I don't know how to go about this. You aren’t some dirty little secret I come to see at night for a good time. You’re all I want to end my night and tell you about my day. I want to wake up and start my day with you. I think about going back on tour soon when the album is finished, or you away when the season starts and I can’t imagine being away from you for that long. I know I’ve made mistakes since we’ve started. I know I’ve hurt you and I’m sorry for being a coward, but you’re all I want Alessia,” you breathe out. 

Alessia finally looks up from your neck. Her eyes search yours for a moment before she’s cupping your cheek, “I’m not going anywhere, but I’m falling (y/n). I don’t want to do it alone. I will be there for whatever happens with Leah and I’ll be here waiting for you when you get a break on tours. You’ll be where I come home to after road trip games. Just please tell me I’m not falling alone.”

You probably take longer than you should searching her features for any slight chance of a lie. Seeing none, you finally take a deep breath before admitting what you knew for a while now, “I love you Alessia,” the smile that you are rewarded with takes away any fear that you have. There was a weight lifted off of you like you didn’t have to hide it even from yourself anymore. 

“I love you too (y/n).”

“What do we do now? What does it mean?” You ask, trying to navigate the new feelings. 

“What do you want?”

“Everything as long as it’s with you,” you smile. 

“Baby,” she blushes, hitting at your chest as her cheeks turn a deep crimson. 

You smile, taking hold of her cheek before leaning down to kiss her, “I love you Alessia Russo.”

“And I love you (y/n).”`

#alessia russo #woso fanfics #woso x reader #alessia russo x reader #woso imagine #woso

[heartpiratedrabbles]

Insecurities Part 2

Part 1 ~ Part 3 Part 4

Buggy X Fem Reader

Buggy was unreasonably angry, he knew it. He couldn’t understand why you had been continuing this ruse for so long. He slammed the bathroom door, leaving you in there and looked around, detaching his hands to grab clothes and get dressed quickly. He stepped on a piece of your discarded costume and it filled him with rage and sadness looking at it.

Quickly he grabbed a bag and rummaged in a chest to set some berries aside. He couldn’t have such a distraction around him anymore. He quickly gathered your things that had been placed in a few places in the room and stuffed them in the bag. He listened to see if you had moved in the bathroom and was slightly relieved that you hadn’t come out yet. The face you made before he left had broken his heart but he was sure that it was all apart of the act you had started playing so long ago.

Once most of your items were gathered Buggy grumbled leaving the room, if he had missed anything you could grab it yourself. He needed to be gone, his resolve would break if he saw you again. He stormed out of the room heading to his office to cool off, not even bothering to put his makeup on for the day.

~~~

        It wasn’t until late at night that Alvida was the one to break Buggy’s silence. He had made it clear he didn’t want to be disturbed and seeing the former captain saunter in with a knowing smirk pissed him off to no end. “Must’ve been an eventful night~” She laughed sitting down in a chair pouring out some wine for herself, “I haven’t even seen Y/N all day. You really must be gentler with her.”

        That name made Buggy go over the edge, “Never mention her in front of me again” he slammed his fists on his desk and glared at Alvida who seemed genuinely shocked at your outburst. “If she knows what’s good for her, she’d be gone by now.”

        “What does that mean? Buggy you didn’t kick her out, did you?” Alvida stood up, her normally composed self disappearing, “She’s been here since before me!” Buggy threw a knife in her direction.

        “She shouldn’t have played with fire then” Buggy was seething, he had almost forgotten that you were a senior member of the crew and it brought another wave of betrayal and anger to wash over him.

        “She wasn’t playing with fire you idiot” She slammed her mace down onto Buggy’s desk and got in his face, “I was so fucken sick of listening to her swoon over you that I convinced her to take her shot.”

        Buggy stopped for a second thinking about words he just heard, “That’s impossible Alvida and you fucken know it. Now get out of my fucken face.” There’s no way anything between the two of you had been real.

        “Fine but I better see that poor girl tomorrow otherwise there will be hell to pay.” Alvida murmured slamming the door on her way out. Buggy sat back down angry, He guessed Alvida was right, he couldn’t just kick you out entirely. You did have rather large roles. Best to demote you and avoid coming into contact, but to just kick out someone whose been apart of the crew for so long would be insane.

        He certainly wasn’t going to talk to you so he sent word through Cabaji to let you know of your new position. Much to his dismay though he couldn’t find you anywhere. Your roommates hadn’t seen you since yesterday and all your items were still in their quarters but no one had seen a single sight of you.

        Out of frustration Buggy stormed to his own room, assuming you hadn’t even left yet. He burst into the room nearly taking the door off its hinges but stopped when he looked at the bed. He quickly noticed that the bag he had prepared for you was missing, but the satchel of berries was laying right there. He looked else where in the room and found nothing else disturbed before his eyes glanced over at his vanity, noticing a neatly wrapped box.

        He grabbed it, and sat of the bed, no doubt this was your work, no one else would even bother wrapping anything, opting to just hand it to Buggy instead. He slowly ripped open the box, his breath hitching at the content inside.

        He thumbed the pages looking at your handy work, “Always the sentimental type,” He muttered under his breath looking at a neatly written paragraph explaining the photo right above it. As he flipped through, he was shocked to see drops of water appear on the pages below him and without realizing it he was full blown crying.

~~~

It had been a couple of days since you disappeared, everyone had hoped that you’d come back since you left, to their knowledge, without any money and without most of your belongings. They had assumed you were just sulking somewhere and that you’d come back once you calmed down, but as the days passed the outcome became bleaker.

~~~

The first couple of months from the crew were hard. You were use to the daily grind of preparing for a show and making sure the service was running smoothly. Ignoring your relationship with Buggy, you were also the main trapeze artist and escapist act for the circus, and you were in charge of assigning groups to missions on your off days from the circus.

        On top of going from island to island, you had to be careful as you were still a wanted criminal. Your bounty being 20 million Berries, made bounty hunters come looking for you, as soon as word got out that you, we no longer on Karai Bari. Early on Cabaji and Alvida also tried to get a hold of you but you ignored it, answering the bare minimum questions that you were alright and alive before hanging up. You didn’t know why they were contacting you but it hurt too much to hear voices of people you couldn’t see again. Opting instead to sell your transponder snail to help change your appearance enough to not be recognized.

        You dyed your hair and put made sure to wear clothes that covered every tattoo, choosing to look like a normal islander over the performer/pirate you look you had grown accustomed to over the years. You never stayed on an island for too long, a week or two at most to evade prying eyes from realizing who you were. You still needed to time to figure out what you’d be doing from now on, where’d you go. You thought about all the previous times you had restarted your life, how every time it was by no choice of your own.

The thought to join another pirate crew had crossed your mind but immediately left a sour taste in your mouth, you didn’t want to follow someone who wasn’t Buggy. He was your one and only captain, even if he no longer wanted you. Your thoughts wondered towards the circus and how happy it had made you to just preform. Hearing the applause as you swung across a chasm or got out of a box made your heart beat with joy. It was risky to get back into the business, it’d put you in center of attention again. Ultimately though, you thought it’d be best to do something you enjoyed rather than wander the world lonely.

After much thought throughout the weeks, you decided it’d be best to save up the money and start your own circus, certainly not on the grand line, that’d be too close to Buggy. You set your sights for the South Blue and let yourself relax now that you had a goal in mind. For now, you were still very much in the New World and needed a way to 1) make money and 2) get there.

What was also starting to concern you was the lack of period you had experienced since you had left, although the thought wasn’t really there. In the past, your period had stopped for 4-5 months before because of stress, and you certainly were in no lack of stress at the moment. For now, you’d rather sleep the night a little more comfortable now that you had decided on your path.

~~~

Alvida was able to get a hold of you for a quick conversation but you had kept it short and non-descript, not answering any questions about where you were or where you were heading. Buggy had faced Avida’s wrath for chasing away her favorite crewmate but he was dealing with a lot more emotions than just that. When Cabaji tried calling you, you had answered but he quickly realized you weren’t going to say anything.

The longer without you the more everyone realized just how much you did. When Buggy created his delivery service most of his crew choose one side to stay apart of, the circus, or the service. But you had somehow managed to do both, arranging practices and new routines for acrobatics while also overseeing groups training and sending the appropriate groups to whatever battle needed it. It was stressful having to catch up with what jobs you were no longer doing. And having to explain your disappearance was more painful, making Buggy push everything onto Mohji or Cabaji.

Buggy went through your belongings, one of your roommates bringing the chest of items when he demanded it. He pushed aside some clothing and Knick knacks before he laid his eyes on a journal that looked well-loved. He sat back as he untied the leather string that kept the journal closed. The first page seemed to have been dated 13 years prior. He flipped to the back of the journal, still a decent amount of empty pages but he finally found the last entry, dated just a day before he had kicked you out.

~4 months~

You couldn’t ignore it anymore; you had somehow made it to the beginning of the Grand line but with a more dire matter rearing it’s head you had to stop and figure it out. You had gained a significant amount of weight, ‘popping’ within the past 2 weeks as some of the people you were traveling with said.

        Right now, you were on a semi-busy island, one that most people stop at to re-stock their ships before venturing further and you were waiting in a small doctors’ office. You had tried to deny it but it was becoming a nuisance. The nausea at the smell of foods, the waking up to puke. And what would you do? It was painful to think about how you ended up where you were.

        The door opened stopping your thoughts and the doctors closed the door behind her, “Well Y/N, congratulations. It seems your about 17 weeks pregnant. Although you are much larger than an average pregnancy.” Your heart stopped hearing these words, “I’d recommend you stop you’re travelling. With how fast the baby is developing I wouldn’t be shocked if you had a short pregnancy.”

        You sit there thinking for a second, “What do you mean a short pregnancy?”

        “Well, most pregnancies are around 9 months. But that’s with 2 normal humans.” The doctor got out a small chart you’d never seen before, “We’ve noticed that when people copulate with others, say Fishmen or Giants for example, the gestation period can be much shorter or longer. And based on the information you’ve given us I’d expect your due date to be somewhere within the next month or two.” The doctor pointed out the information on the chart as she explained it to you.

        Your head was reeling, was Buggy not human? You knew his nose was different but that didn’t mean he wasn’t human. The doctor took your silence as a way to continue, “I’d highly recommend you’d settle down until you give birth. Traveling could put you and your child in danger. Would you like to contact the father? We have a great office of the island that can track down most anyone.” She rubs your arm a bit, “Until then I’d like to see you in the office at least once a week, especially since you’ve been out on the sea without any pre-natal vitamins this entire time.”

        You sit there placing your hands on your stomach. You couldn’t continue your journey like this, and what’s more what will you do when they’re born? Tears brimmed your eyes, “Ah- Of course we do have other options if you’d rather not have the child” The doctor quickly added seeing you slightly tremble.

        You snapped your head up and then looked down at your stomach again. Despite everything, you couldn’t bare the thought of giving them up, “No- ah sorry. I’m just, I’m overwhelmed at the news. Is there a place I could stay for a while?” You rub one of your eyes before looking up at the doctor with a meek smile.

        The doctor sighs a bit seeing you calm down, “Of course, I have a friend who has a spare room, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind helping you out.”

~~~

Buggy hasn’t been the same without you. He was easier to anger and started doing more dangerous acts, pushing everyone to work harder. His crew didn’t know whether he was encouraging everyone to work their hardest or if he was trying to push them over the edge and no one tried to figure it out either.

He had taken his time to read through your journal when he got lonely and realized he never got to actually know you. His heart sank the more he realized that he just forced you to go with his own current, not caring about your life. He read as your life seemed bleak and dark before taking a uphill turn when you joined his crew. He smiled as he read your first impression of him as, “A charming blue-haired savior.” And he vaguely remembered the day himself.

        He had mistakenly decided to raid an island that had a celestial dragon on it, apparently the island made a tribute every couple of years by offering a maiden as a slave. You were there in the cage, contorting you body to make it easier to escape, the movements had intrigued him and he offered you a spot on his crew. He remembers you being surprised that he was even there, your doe eyes staring up at him before you smiled, revealing a key between your teeth that you used to unlocked yourself from the restraints before taking his hand. He couldn’t help but to remember a few tears fall from your eyes despite your smiling.

        His heart ached at all the memories that were resurfacing, before continuing to read your journal. Every big adventure written in remembrance, the read of your admiration towards him for changing plans when “the idiot in a straw hat” came by and it made Buggy chuckle as your recollection of the events. Closing the journal whenever he couldn't read anymore.

~6 Months~

Gin helped you to your appointment. When you had met him, you were on guard, but he’s the first one to open up to you about being an ex-pirate himself and how he settled down to help those in need. Just like how someone had helped him when he was starving. He didn’t seem to mind that you had stayed longer than expected and even offered you the place until you felt the child was old enough. Even pushing for you to raise the child a bit before continuing your adventure, after you had told him you wanted to start a circus, so that you wouldn’t have to worry about the newborn.

        But much of that talk was hushed as your stomach was now ballooned and you hadn’t felt any contractions as of yet. Dr. Shiegi was already waiting for you in her office when you arrived. Gin was about to sit in the waiting room when you looked back, “You know Gin. If you want to come in you can,” It was a friendly gesture, he had become like a protective brother since you’ve met him and he seemed overjoyed for a second before calming himself back down to be composed as he walked into the office and taking a seat there.

        Dr. Shiegi was mulling over papers after doing all the normal check-ups, “Are you sure the father isn’t from elbaf???” She was stressing herself over your due date and how large you were becoming. “I just can’t seem to pin-point anything, if I knew more about the father maybe-“ She stopped herself as she realized it was a bit of a sore subject for you.

        You sighed while smiling, a hand gently placed on your stomach, “As long as the baby’s healthy I don’t mind waiting.” The doctor across from you sighing heavily.

        “This is making me as stressed as when I was a student Y/N. How are we supposed to prepare anything if you have no idea when you’ll go into labor??” She took a deep breath before getting up to get herself some tea, pouring you a cup as well.

        “Well, there’s no use in stressing over what you can’t control,” you muse taking the cup from her extended hand, “So how was everything else?” Taking a sip.

        “You and the baby both seem to be healthy as can be, I cannot stress though you shouldn’t be working right now. Don’t think Gin hasn’t told me about you trying to sneak out to help in the garden or build things. You need bed rest especially with this unknown due date,” She stressed her words as she sat back down.

        “I feel fine, besides I’ll go crazy if I don’t do anything. I’m use to moving around a lot and I’m sure my baby agrees,” You smiled a bit as she groaned and you could feel Gin’s worried stare in the side of your head, “But if it makes you feel better, I’ll cut back a little bit.” Dr. Shiegi sighed a bit leaning back, willing to accept this small compromise for now.

        “By the way Y/N, have you thought about any names?” Gin seemed to perk his ears at this as you hadn’t talked to him about it either.

        You chuckled a bit, “I know it sounds silly but I was thinking of Benji or Azure. Either way I’ll raise them for the spotlight” Truth be told you were hoping for a girl and you couldn’t help but to imagine what a cute baby with a bright red nose would look like.

        “Not the weirdest I’ve heard, and if you’re raising them for the circus the names fit in well,” Gin piped into the conversation again a small twinkle in his eye at the thought of a child running around. You could tell he had taken on an uncle role already with how much he was doting on your unborn child, every now and then he let his hard shell fall to reveal it.

~~~

Another lonely night led Buggy back to your journal, this time to an entry of his time in Impel Down. You had been worried about your captain's well-being and if you'd ever see him again, only sighing in relief when you got the news that he had escaped only to be terrified when he had appeared in the Paramount War, broadcasting everything for the world to see. You had written about how it was stupid of him to go in there with little to no plan, but how it was exactly who you knew him to be. Proud that he hadn't changed while behind bars.

The more he read the more he realized how much you had been watching him for much longer than you had been sleeping with him. There was even mention on how Alvida bullied you about your school girl crush on the captain and how your first night with him had been because of the domineering womens interference.

Buggy had realized all his mistakes, even with his own self-doubts he was regretting everything. He never thought that anyone would truly love him, nor would he have ever thought they’d put up with how obnoxious he was all the time.

~~~

"We have to find her,” Buggy demanded bursting into the room. He brought his closest advisors into the meeting, Mihawk and Crocodile were meant to be there but they’d be damned if they were to actually be bossed around by him.

        “What do you think we’ve been doing this entire time behind your back,” Alvida mumbles, using a file to fix her nails, “Do you really think I’d ever let her escape without an attempt at finding her?”

        “The problem is she knows how to disappear,” Cabaji chimed in, “we lost track of her after she was seen escaping some marines a couple months back.” Buggy’s heart quickened at the mention of marines.

        “Why didn’t you report to me on any of this, What if she’s in trouble?” He demanded slamming a fist into the table.

        “What so you could tell us to fuck off and that your decision is final?” Alvida glowered at him, “Besides if marines caught her there would have been news on it, I’m sure she’s off hiding somewhere. We just have to look for what she loved and follow any leads.” And so started the full-scale project to find you.

~8 months~

Dr. Shiegi was stressing beyond belief, you were much larger than any pregnancy she had seen before and was starting to get worried about your own wellbeing. And you had to admit, it was getting much harder to walk around with a stomach the protruded as far out as it did. Gin was more than happy to let you sit and do everything for you, but you didn’t like being doted and waited on, you’d much rather be out and about but it seemed as though your child had other plans.

        Gin had also noticed how lonely you got at times. You had seen an updated bounty poster of Buggy on the street and had taken it without a second thought. You read of how he had been moving around, making waves in the New World. When you thought you were alone, you’d look and talk to the poster as though it were Buggy you were talking too.

        You weren’t sure how your old Captain would take the news of having a child soon, but it didn’t matter. He wouldn’t be a part of their life, but it brought you some solace to just talk about your dreams of raising them to be an amazing performer, a headliner no doubt for the circus you were sure to start when your body was your own again.

        Gin would sometimes listen to you through the doorway without you realizing, usually making noise to alert you to his presence. He had convinced you to stay on the island until your child was at least a year old, and you hadn’t told him yet but you were thinking of settling down and starting your circus here. No one knew who you were here, or if they did, they didn’t care. There were enough other ex-pirates or people hiding their identities on the island that people didn’t pry, they were happy with the present and didn’t question the past.

        You felt a rather hard kick against your stomach and Gin glanced over at you with concern, “I think it’ll happen any day now,” you say soothing your stomach.

~~~

Buggy was going insane, he had sent troops out to every nearby island to look for you. Every convoy came back empty and Alvida was beating on him every day there wasn't a sign of you. "There's no one else competent around here," She had yelled at him throwing her club in his direction.

The longer you were away the more reckless Buggy became, making a larger impact on those around him, and more importantly, the world around him. He had ransacked a couple Navy bases and didn't show signs of stopping.

~9 Months~

Dr. Shiegi was stationed at the end of the bed and Gin was wiping your forehead with a wet towel. It had been 30 hours already and you’ve never felt this pain before. You were gripping the bed with all your might listening to Dr. Shiegi’s commands. Maybe this hadn’t been a good idea, thoughts of Buggy kept rising up that brought waves of a different pain. Would he approve of this? You doubt it, the last time you looked at him he only held hatred for you.

        Soon enough though, you could hear a crying and breathed a sigh of relief hearing ‘it’s a boy’ before you felt another jolt of pain, letting out another scream. Your baby was quickly handed off to Gin as Dr. Shiegi took her place again concern filling her face.

        After a long process you finally felt a relief. You were to dazed to hear what was being said and let darkness befall you.

~~~

You woke up to Shiegi wiping your forehead and looked around trying to sit up, “Hey calm down everything’s alright. You need rest right now.”

“Where’s my baby?” You ignore her concern and adjust to lean against the back of the bed, wincing a bit in pain. Your doctor and friend sighs before leaving the room for a second.

She comes back in holding a bundled blanket, Gin following behind her with another bundle, “Y/N. I’m an idiot, I never thought of the possibility of twins,” You look at the two blankets registering her words, “So I’d like you to meet your two healthy baby boys,” She smiled handing you one baby as Gin sat next to you holding the other.

You look down holding in a gasp, The newborn in your hand had a few locks of blue hair and a nose the was similar to his fathers, you quickly look at Gins arms and he takes the hint to settle the child in your other arm. Twins. They looked exactly the same, the flood of emotions you felt as you stared at your beautiful babies was too much that you started to cry a bit.

The pain was worth it, the months on this island was worth it, you couldn’t think of a single thing better than that of the two bundles of joy right in front of you.

#one piece #One Piece X Reader #Angst #Buggy #Buggy the Clown #Buggy X Reader #part 2

[acupoftaewithsomesuga]

Lost at Sea • Hongjoong Kim

pirate hongjoong x fem!reader

summary• You are a runaway who snuck onto a ship to get away from your enslavers, the royal family. You hid behind some barrels under the floorboard until you became hungry, forcing you to make your way up to the deck. On your way to voyage for food, he found you, the boat's captain.

warnings• mention of beating and torture, mention of slavery, mean hongjoong, dom!joong, sub!reader, SMUT (this shit is filthy), pet names (sweetheart, slut, baby, captain, daddy, master), rough sex, voyeurism (m!watching), big dick joong, slight BDSM, oral (face fucking m!receiving), nipple play (f! receiving), fingering, overstimulation, unprotected sex, slapping, scratching, hair pulling, biting, and choking. *let me know if I miss something*

videos/audios to watch before you read•

wc• 6.9k

a/n• I wanted to do something out of my comfort zone and here we are! I want to expand on my storytelling and convey that through this. This was a huge challenge for me but I put my big brain in for this one. I tried really hard so please don’t judge me too hard ^•^ Remember to take the survey at the end so I can write part 2! Enjoy y’all! 💜masterlist💜

taglist 💜 • @joongss @mingisdoll @st4rhwa @sugarnspice630 @joongiesmoon @sanipan @no1likevie

add yourself to the taglist 💜

Your bare feet ran across the sand, stumbling at times trying to get away from your captures. You hid behind a rock covered in seaweed hoping that they wouldn’t find you and bring you back. You were born into poverty on this island and the sad part is that you knew it growing up. You tried to escape multiple times and this was 1 of the 4. You were tired of the demands and the way they treated you. The long hours of working from dawn to night, the beatings, and the disrespect. They spoke so highly of the royal family of this island but civilians didn’t know the frequent mistreatment that they put their slaves through. Y'all barely got to shower or eat, and barely saw the light. And you in particular stayed down in the lair for days on end because of your behavior. So when you ran out of the back doors of the palace, the light hit your eyes, disorienting your site. You would have thought that the Queen would have killed you by now seeing that you were a liability. But in reality, the Queen knew you were fertile and wanted you to have more babies for her. Just so she can take them away from you, just like she did your mother. You had no family and it was driving you insane, you had to leave. 

“Over there!” you heard a soldier belch running by you and clinging onto another girl with torn garbs. You let out a slight chuckle, the soldiers have never been the brightest. You needed to leave, you couldn’t stay on this island any longer. Knowing the Queen she would find you again if you didn’t leave. You knew that the soldiers would be sent out again to find you after they presented the wrong girl to her. As soon as they were out of sight you got up and ran to one of the nearby ships. You ran to the one that looked the most polished and shiny. There was a mermaid figurehead that rested beautifully at the end of the ship. The sides of the ship were embroidered with well-crafted designs. The ship's flag swayed in the wind, showing its black lines and writing at the bottom that you couldn’t make out. You knew that they had wealth but you also knew that if they caught you, you could get thrown from the ship. You took your chances this time, boarding the ship freely via the ramp that was laid out. You knew they would be back soon so you quickly ran to find something to eat. You found bread, cheese, and bottles of what you assumed to be wine. You grabbed two of all of them, hoping that no one would notice food missing. You then climbed down multiple ladders to get to the cargo hold. You hid behind multiple barrels hoping that no one would find you. 

You started to devour the bread desperately, getting every crumb that managed to escape your mouth. It was such a sweet bread that it made you crave more. The cheese melted in your mouth, it was soft and silky compared to the outer crust that was on the cheese. The wine was bitter and attached to your taste buds. You never tried wine before and it didn’t help that it was strong. You finished everything within a few minutes and you wanted to grab more. You get up and make your way up the ladder but you hear a cluster of boots thud on the floorboard above causing you to tense up. You cover your mouth to stop from making an audible noise and move carefully back into the corner. The idea of multiple men finding you instilled fear in your heart but the idea of going back to the royal family frightened you the most. You sit in the corner listening intensively. 

“Alright lads, let's get the ship going!” You heard someone yell followed by other men cheering in agreement. You heard small chatter from the men as they set up the ship to sail. You heard the ship creek as there was so much movement on the ship. You heard them put more cargo on the ship, hearing barrels roll across the floorboard. “Don’t strain yourself boys!” a man said followed by a “You worry about us too much Captain.” You heard the sound of the ramp being dragged back in, the wood scraping onto eachother. You heard the sound of a rope tethering, followed by a loud clunk against the floorboard. You realized that they brought back up the anchor and a smile formed on your face. “Alright boys release the flags!” You heard followed by boots running above you. You felt the ship jerk aggressively moving you and the barrels in front of you. You heard the boys cheer and the ship creek. The ship swayed back and forth and you couldn’t help but cry softly to yourself. It was finally over and you were off of that island, but now you had to face another problem. You closed your eyes for a moment and suddenly dozed off, listening as the waves hit the bottom of the ship. 

Your chest fell and raised rapidly as you heard footsteps right above your head, forcing you out of your slumber. You heard an abundant amount of cheers and laughter. You wanted to sleep but couldn’t and the ship swaying back and forth didn’t help either. You hear chugs clink together and as if it couldn’t get worse they started to sing drunkenly. At this point, you laughed at the situation you got yourself in. You giggled to yourself as you heard them sing the words of the song unclearly and the way the floorboard creaked because of their dancing.

The noise started to die down and footsteps started to lead out of the room above you. You counted all of the ones that walked out, counting 7 in total. Minutes went by to see if you could hear another and nothing. You got up slowly from your corner, walking quietly to the ladder. You just needed to go up two ladders to get to the food. That’s all you had to do, just two ladders. You went up step by step, wincing as the ladder started to creak along with the connected floorboards. You peeked your head out slightly looking from left to right. To the right, you saw light illuminating the room that they were in causing your heart to race more. Once you didn’t see anything you proceeded to rise from the opening in the floor, keeping your eye on the room. You went up the second ladder, the cold ocean breeze smacked your face causing you to breathe in. You looked up and saw the moon shining brightly along with the stars. Your first night of freedom and it couldn’t be more beautiful. You were in a daze looking at the different stars and their sizes. You looked at the full moon's roundness admiring the yellow hue it glowed. You rose your head up parallel with the ocean, closing your eyes, and spreading your arms wide. You let the breeze move through your fingers and against your arms. 

You snapped out of your trance when you heard your stomach growl. You remembered what you were up here for and started to look around the deck. You found the basket of bread again, reaching out to grab one. You would have proceeded but you felt a sharp metal object pressed against the back of your skull. You froze in place knowing that this would be the end. “Who goes there? State your business.” You heard a voice calmly say. “We don't do trespassers.” The pressure of the object got stronger against you. “Speak, or I will make you speak.” You were frightened to your core not knowing what to say. How could your actions be justified? “I– I ran away from Makara Bay.” You uttered waiting for him to respond but the only response you got was the wind whistling. “My name is y/n, and I was a slave for the royal family on Makara Bay.” Again not a response from him. “I just want to start my life over and to do that I had to get off the island. I found the nearest ship and boarded it while getting chased.” You confessed. You suddenly felt the metal object disappear from the back of your head. 

You involuntarily forced your eyes shut as you turned around, scared to see who was behind you. You slowly opened your eyes and were met by a man staring directly at you. You shuddered in fear as he towered over you, eyelids low, and a devilish smirk on his face. “What a pretty girl,” he chuckled, grabbing your jaw with his fingers and pulling you closer. “You poor thing, you must be so lost.” he suddenly gave you a pouting expression. “I can fix that sweetheart, I’m the best captain in all the fine seas', he whispered, the corners of his mouth slowly forming a wide grin. You swallowed as his hands moved from your jaw to your neck, gripping it tightly. He looked into your soul and squeezed tighter around your neck until a slight whimper escaped your mouth. 

A slight chuckle came from him as his eyes wandered down your body. He saw that your thighs were held tight together, causing him to raise one of his eyebrows out of curiosity. He then leaned in closer to you whispering in your ear, “You make the most heavenly noises.” His other hand sheathed his blade into his holder and made its way to your waist, sliding it down your thigh. He pulled up your dress and gripped your inner thigh. Another whimper came from you as you felt his fingertip slide softly against your core. “The royals didn’t give out panties I see,” he chuckled, moving his middle and ring finger across the outside of your core. You couldn’t help but hum at the sensation of him touching you. You haven’t been touched like this in such a long time, causing you to think the naughtiest thoughts. You wondered how good he would look on top of you with nothing on or how he would look moaning your name. He then pressed his fingers against you, rubbing his fingers against your folds, running them from your entrance to your sensitive clit. “Naughty slut, already soaked hmm?” he grinned as he watched you bite your lip and nod in agreement. 

“Captain! There is a leak– oh?” You both snapped out of it. You looked and saw two men about 6 feet standing in the middle of the doorway. Captain soon removed his hand from under your dress and you quickly patted it down. The two men just stood there in awe, wondering what would have happened if they didn’t say anything. “What is it Yunho?” Captain replied, tightening his jaw. “There is a leak in the gallery,” Yunho said, staring at you. “And? You and Mingi couldn’t get it yourself?” Captain’s fist started to ball up, you could tell he was pissed. “Hongjoong, we need help to get the papers out of the room so San can board up the leak,” Mingi replied calmly. “Fuck, okay well take Ms. y/n to the captain’s cabin and heat her some water so she can freshen up,” Hongjoong said to Yunho, Yunho nodding in response. With that, you say Hongjoong and Mingi rush through the door and down the ladder. 

Yunho flashed you a smile and guided you to the captain's cabin. Upon entry, you couldn’t help but notice the beautiful nature of the room. There was embroidery on the bed frame that looked like it was only fit for a king. You saw elegant sheets on the bed in patterns you had never seen before. On the floor, there was a huge antique rug that looked like it came from another country. On the ceiling, countless arrays of lamps and jewelry hung downwards, they all looked like they had important stories. The walls were covered in drawings and paintings of scenery from around the world. And in the corner of the room, there was a tub. Usually, pirates didn’t have baths but this ship was wealthy enough to have a small wooden bathtub in the corner of the room. This just made you curious about the other rooms on the ship. You were too scared to move, feeling like you would break something by looking at it. Everything looked so expensive and polished, it was one sight for the eyes. You were taken out of your thoughts when you heard Yunho laugh followed by saying “Pretty ain’t it.” All you could do was look at him, smile, and nod. Yunho then left the room, forcing you to look at the art on the walls in detail. 

After a while, Yunho came back inside the room with a wooden bucket filled with steaming hot water. You watched Yunho one by one bring in hot water that he warmed up from the fire in the kitchen. You insisted on helping but he refused saying something along the lines of “You are our guest.” You were so used to working for others and it was weird to see someone working for you. You just had to accept the fact that this was how it was going to be for you. You looked outside at the full moon, spacing out, thinking about how your days of abuse and neglect were over. Usually, you would start to cry but all you did in that moment was smile. You were happy that you were miles away from that place, escaping with no trace. 

“You're a runaway huh?” Yunho asked, breaking the silence. “What gave it away?” you responded, turning to look at him. “Well, let's just say only desperate folk board unknown pirate ships.” He said and the room fell silent again. “You made the right choice with this ship. If it was other ships they would have killed you. We are pretty friendly around here unless we are forced not to.” Yunho said, throwing the last bucket of water into the tub. Yunho then turned around and proceeded to leave. “Wait, what do I do with the water after I am done?” You asked. “Joong will take care of that once he gets in here, it was nice meeting you, y/n.” He said flashing a smile at you before closing the door shut.

You looked at the tub and saw the steam emanating from it. You needed the water to cool down a bit so you started to look around the room for some extra clothes. You went through Hongjoong’s drawers and found an oversized white button-down shirt. You took it out, placing it on the end of the bed. You walked over to the tub and felt the water making sure it was okay to get into. You haven't taken a bath like this before so this was new to you. Usually, the royals would just hose you down, not caring about the temperature of the water. You placed one foot in the tub and then another. A chill went through your body when you finally sat down in the wooden tub. It was so warm, it was hugging you like a warm blanket. You breathed out and finally relaxed, splashing water all over your body. You grabbed a rag that was next to the tub and rubbed off any dirt that stuck to your skin. You looked to the side of the tub and found a mug. You grabbed it, scooped up water, and dumped it slowly through your hair. 

After cleaning yourself up you sat in the bathtub, enjoying what was left of the warm water. You suddenly thought about how Hongjoong was touching you earlier. His hand on your neck while running his fingers through your folds. The way he looked at you was intense as he stared into your eyes watching how you reacted to every touch. You started to move your fingers to your core, rubbing yourself at the thought of him. You haven't had a man touch you in years and the idea of him having his way with you for the first time in a long time made your head spin. Every time you closed your eyes all you could see was him, you started to become desperate. You laid your head back, closing your eyes. You moved your other hand to your nipple, flicking it lightly. You started to rock back and forth on your fingers, letting them rub against your sensitive nerve. 

You kept going thinking about his fingers replacing yours. You think about how he would treat your needy cunt and how he would fuck you to oblivion. You started to moan as you continued to play with yourself, thinking about him. The way his whole hand wrapped around your neck, making it hard for you to breathe. “Hongjoong,” You moaned out his name as you got closer to release, scrunching your eyebrows together. “You can call me Joong baby,” you heard a deep voice say. You quickly open your eyes and remove your hands from your core and nipple, covering your breasts with both arms. You blush as you see Hongjoong standing in front of the tub, a tent forming in his pants. “Why did you stop sweetheart?” he said uncuffing his cuffs, followed by unbuttoning his jacket and tossing it on the dresser. You couldn’t speak as he kept direct eye contact with you with the same expression from earlier. “You can also call me Captain or Daddy, whatever you see fit baby.” he then paused and chuckled. “Or master,” he growled, causing you to become lightheaded. He saw how you reacted to him, your fingers digging into your shoulders and you biting your lower lip. He knew you liked the way he talked to you and how much that caused your core the throb. 

He undid his white button-down, removing it completely. “Look at what you did baby,” he expressed looking down and gliding his hand across his hard dick. You gulped down your saliva as he walked to the side of the tub. You looked up as he towered over you, his body illuminated by the moonlight. “I– I didn’t mean to,” you stuttered as your eyes altered from his face to his dick. He just smiled at you and held out his hand, waiting for you to take it so he could lift you up. You removed your arms from across your chest and took his hand. You rose from the bath as water dripped off your body, making it glisten like a piece of shiny jewelry. You stepped out of the bathtub while holding onto his hand. “Gorgeous,” he cooed, causing you to blush. Without hesitation he pulled you closer to him with his arm around your waist, digging his fingers into your side. You placed your hands on his shoulders looking into his eyes. His dick was pressed against your stomach, you could feel him twitch against your skin. He then gripped the back of your head, ensuring you couldn’t run away. His soft lips meet yours and you melted in his grasp. The kisses were slow as you moved in harmony, loud smacking noises coming from you both. You moaned into the kiss causing him to smile. “Needy girl,” he stated, slapping your ass lightly making you whimper. 

He suddenly pinned you against the wall, both of your wrists above your head. He used his other hand to grab your jaw, kissing you roughly. You both kissed with desperation and eagerness. He bit your bottom lip causing a slight moan to escape your lips. He smiled and looked into your eyes before he moved his lips to your neck. He started to kiss your neck, sending you over the edge as he found your weak spots. He started to suck on all over your skin, causing bruises to form in multiple areas. This caused you to press your thighs tightly together as you threw your head back at the new sensation. His tongue then licked the bruises after he placed them on your skin. “Look at you letting me do whatever I want to you,” He whispered, and you responded with a whimper. “Will you do whatever I tell you to?” He asked, grabbing your jaw and making intense eye contact with you, waiting for you to respond. Your heart rate skyrocketed when he asked you this. You were scared, but you were also curious about what deep fantasies this man had. All you could think about at that moment was pleasing him, no matter the cost. “Yes Captain,” you answered followed by a desperate nod. He smirked at your answer and his eyes grew dark. “Get on your knees.” He demanded and you obeyed, anchoring your hands on his thighs, getting down on both knees. 

You looked up as he started to unbuckle his belt followed by unbuttoning his pants. He removed his belt from his pants and kneeled down. He grabbed your hands from your lap and wrapped the belt around your wrist. He buckled the belt tight, tugging on them to make sure you couldn’t break free. “Please,” you breathed, not knowing what you were begging for. “I’ll give you a reason to beg sweetheart, just wait.” he chuckled, removing his pants. You watched as his pants fell to his ankles, your eyes grew wide as your eyes met his huge dick, Hongjoong smirked at your reaction. “Holy shit.” you gasped, pulling your hands to your face in shock. “Hmm?” Hongjoong teased, swaying his hips left and right causing his dick to sway as well. 

“Open baby,” he demanded, at first you were hesitant because you genuinely didn’t know how he was going to fit in your mouth. But you soon obeyed, opening your mouth wide, sticking your tongue out, and looking up at him. He groaned at the sight of you like this, so obedient and ready to please him. The blood rushed rapidly through your body as you saw him above you. The way he looked at you with such urgency made your core throb. He placed one hand on the wall behind you while his other hand gripped onto the base of his cock, slapping it against your tongue. In response you swirl your tongue around his tip, watching as he bit down on his bottom lip. You then wrapped your lips around his tip, causing him to hum at the feeling of you around him. You moved your head back and forth, slowly inching closer with every forward movement, just until you were almost to his hand. He moaned suddenly when you finally took most of him in, removing his hand from his base so you could take down more. 

You started to choke when you got to the last few inches of his length. “Slow baby,” he moaned, reassuring you. “We have all night sweetheart.” He threw his head back as he felt his dick go down your throat, causing him to twitch. He looked back down and saw you looking directly at him, his dick disappearing in your mouth. You moved your head back and forth, taking every inch of him in you. You watched as his eyes rolled back, motivating you to go faster. His lips separated as he moaned loudly, your throat making the filthiest noises. “Good fucking slut.” he growled, grabbing your jaw tightly. You continued to force his dick down your throat as he moaned in ecstasy. There was saliva escaping from your mouth and tears running down your cheeks. You moaned onto his dick sending a vibration through his body and you started to play with your sensitive core. You lapped your fingers onto your clit making you moan against him. You wanted him to force himself down your throat as you touched yourself, you wanted all of him. 

He looked down and grabbed onto your hair, pulling all your hair strains together to make a makeshift ponytail. He tugged at your hair making you stop at a halt, “Good girl.” He praised you, slowly moving his hips forward, and thrusting into your mouth. “Keep playing with yourself while I fuck your throat,” he demanded. His words made you whimper and your eyebrows scrunch together. Your middle and ring finger moved rapidly against your clit in desperation while he started to thrust slowly into your mouth. You both looked into each other's eyes cherishing this moment. Just a few hours ago you were fleeing from an island and now the captain’s dick is deep down your throat. 

He started to thrust faster into your mouth causing you to choke slightly, but you took every inch of him. Your face kept making contact with his pelvic bone causing your saliva to stick to his skin. Your mouth was making the wettest noises as he forced his dick down your throat. Your eyes were no longer making contact with him but instead were rolled back. Hongjoong moaned loudly, making it echo through the room, piercing into the wooden walls. You could tell me was close by the way he twitched in your mouth. You were close yourself as you felt the knot in your stomach start to form. Your legs started to shake making it hard for you to stay up. His body started to jerk as he watched you almost meet your high. “Cum for me baby,” he breathed, causing a shiver to go through your body. You couldn’t hold back anymore you had to release. “I’m gonna cum sweetheart, I’m gonna cum down your throat!” he moaned, his thrust becoming sloppy. You moaned on his dick as you felt the knot in your stomach pop, releasing all over the carpet. Hongjoong then followed, forcing your face down on his dick, and sending his load down your throat. 

His dick twitched in your mouth as his head was thrown back. You swallowed all of his cum, leaving no trace. His fingers were still tight around your hair as he caught his breath. He let go of your hair slowly, caressing your face, and looking at you with a huge smile. You couldn’t help but giggle at the way he was looking at you, the corners of his mouth spread from ear to ear. He helped you get up from your knees and pulled you close into an embrace. “That was fantastic sweetheart, do you think you can take more?” He asked, looking into your eyes and waiting for a response. “Yes Joong.” you responded. With that, he swept you off of your feet and threw you on top of the bed. He lifted your wrist above your head again and climbed on top of you, your legs on either side of his thighs. He pulled you in closer by your knees until your thighs met together. Hongjoong removed his hand from your wrist and placed both of his hands on either side of your head, sinking them into the mattress. He stared at you for a moment until he lowered his head to meet you face to face. “Do you want me right here?” he teased moving one of his hands down to your core, lapping his fingers against your soaked entrance. A soft whimper escaped your lips at the sudden sensation of him, causing you to buck into his hand in agreement. “P-please.” that's all that you could utter. He let out a low chuckle seeing how his actions affected you. “Please what sweetheart?” he smirked, pressing his middle finger into you. “Fuck me please Captain,” you gasped as he pumped his finger in and out of you slowly. “Good girl,” he whispered, kissing you passionately. 

You hummed into the kisses as his finger caressed your sensitive walls. You involuntarily bit onto his lip and he responded with a groan. He started to move his finger in you faster, causing your eyes to roll back. He then added his pointer finger into you making you moan loudly. “Right there,” You groaned as his fingers rubbed against your g-spot. Hongjoong broke from the kiss and started to trail kisses down your neck to your chest. You felt his tongue suddenly run circles around your sensitive nipple before he started to flick his tongue on it. While pumping both fingers into you he moved his thumb forward, rubbing your clit. You were in pure ecstasy as you felt all your sensitive parts being fulfilled at once. His eyes looked up at you as your body shook vigorously. Your mouth was wide open moaning his name so everyone could hear. Your eyebrows were scrunched together and your lips were quivering. Your legs were shaking and your toes were curled. Your back was arched and you were thrusting into his hand in desperation. 

“Faster,” you demanded and he obeyed. He pumped faster into you causing a loud smacking sound to fill the room. His tongue moved faster on your sensitive bud and his thumb moved faster. Embarrassingly you were about to cum again. You couldn’t hold it anymore as you screamed in pleasure as you came all over his fingers. Your body shook but he kept going, causing you to see stars. He rose and continued to finger you, watching as your body reacted to being over-stimulated. Your fists were clenched together, your eyes rolled back, your mouth wide open, your head laid back, and your body squirming. “Joong!” you yelled as he continued, smirking at your heavenly noises. You were going to cum again if he didn’t stop and he knew that. He slowly slowed down and stopped to a halt, allowing you to catch your breath. You looked down as your body involuntarily jerked at random moments, your breathing intense. You saw him take his fingers out of you and smirk deviously. Your eyes widened when he stuck his fingers into his mouth, sucking all your juices off of them. “You taste so good baby,” he growled, moving his hand to stroke his dick. You saw the precum leak from his tip, causing you to whimper. 

 “Do you think you can take me?” he said, smirking and slapping his dick against your wet core. Again you were hesitant to speak, you never had someone big like him before. Your eyes darted around the room trying to find the answer to the question as he patiently waited. You were so eager for him to slam into you and fuck you, but you knew that he would destroy you if he did. “I can go slow,” he said, flashing you a smile. You felt butterflies flutter in your stomach at his words causing you to nod and smile back. He then leaned down and stared into your eyes, grabbing your chin and kissing you passionately. You hummed softly as you felt him slide his tip against your center, preparing you for entry. He looked at you as he gently pressed his tip inside you making you moan and close your eyes. Hongjoong gulped as he felt you grip around him, a sensation that he hadn't felt in a long time. He pushed into you a little bit more, stretching you out around him. A broken moan escaped your lips as he pushed himself further into you, your fist forming into balls. You gasped for air when you felt him push himself all the way into you, you opened your mouth to moan but nothing came out. Hongjoong grunted at the feeling of you squeezing around him, sending him into a spiral. 

He then pulled out slightly and slowly pushed back in, making you both moan in unison. He repeated making sure you were comfortable with his size. “M-more,” you expressed, wanting him to pick up the pace. He then anchored his hand by your head and wrapped his other arm around your waist bringing you closer. He started to thrust at a steady pace as he looked into your eyes, watching as he pleased you. “Joong,” you breathed as he started to go faster. You looked at him and saw that he was staring directly at you, his hair was in the way of his eyes but you could still see him staring with his eyebrows scrunched together. Soft moans echoed and bounced through the walls along with the sound of your skin lightly slapping against each other. You then wrapped your tied wrist around his neck and he pulled you up. You pulled him into a kiss, pressing your tongue against his lips, him separating his lips to invite you in. You were now straddled around his waist, your chest pressed against each other. He held you by your hips as your arms were draped over his shoulders. The belt made contact with the back of his neck, helping support you up. One of his arms was gripping your waist while the other hand was holding you up by your ass. Hongjoong started to thrust deep into your pussy causing you to moan loudly. The room filled with both of your erotic moans, they were so loud that they echoed throughout the ship. You both looked into each other's eyes as he pounded into you repeatedly, your soaked core making contact with his pelvic bone. You couldn’t help but claw at his back, causing red marks to form on his skin. “Fuck,” you moaned gasping for air as he hit your sensitive g-spot. He was fucking you to oblivion as the bed rocked vigorously, making a loud thud against the wooden wall. The window in the room started to fog as you both groaned and moaned repeatedly. You both became drenched in sweat as you both continued to fuck in desperation. You threw your head back as Hongjoong started to say sweet nothings to you, “You feel so fucking good baby, so tight for daddy.” All you could do was clench your walls around him in response. Your body was practically numb as he fucked you. 

You suddenly heard footsteps come close to the door. The door then slowly creaked open causing Hongjoong to smirk maliciously. Multiple thoughts were going on in your head. Why is the door suddenly open? Were we that loud? And why is Joong suddenly fucking me harder? Your head was spiraling and you had no idea how to control them. “Let them watch how good I’m fucking you, sweetheart,” Hongjoong whispered in your ear while keeping his steady pace. The fact that other men were watching turned you on causing you to squeeze tighter around Hongjoong. You threw your head back and nodded, moaning loudly as he slammed repeatedly into you. “Holy shit,” you heard a voice say. 

Hongjoong then suddenly started to slow down, causing you to pop your head up in confusion. He then removed your arms from around his shoulders and laid you back on the bed. “Hold on baby,” He said as he pulled out of you slowly, a small whimper fell from your lips. You looked down and saw his dick covered in your juices. He noticed that you were looking and smirked. He then picked you up and placed you horizontally on the bed. You turned to your left and saw the shadows of 2 men, the light illuminating from the moon hiding their features. They were both here, so eager to watch you get fucked. “Turn around,” Hongjoong said breaking you out of your gaze with them. You then rolled over, your ass facing Hongjoong. Your left cheek made contact with the mattress, looking at them. Your arms were under your body, the belt still tight around your wrist. Hongjoong then spread your legs wide and pulled your hips up. Your ass was propped up in the air, your knees pressed against the mattress, and your legs rested on both sides on Hongjoons thighs. 

You felt him grip onto your ass as his dick moved through your folds. You were so impatient and pushed yourself backward as soon as his tip aligned with your entrance. Both of you moaned at the feeling of Hongjoong being deep inside you again. You moved your hips back and forth as he stayed still, your ass slapping against his pelvic bone. He watched as you took control, looking at how your body moved against him. You looked at the two men as you fucked Hongjoong, making the most lude noises. You smiled as you watched the tents in their pants grow. “S-so g-good,” you moaned as you reached for your clit, rubbing it softly. You started to grip tighter around him causing him to buck into you. The noises that Hongjoong was making were loud and filthy. His eyes were rolled back as he felt you thrust faster onto him, his fingers gripping tightly to your hips. “Touch yourself,” you demanded, looking at the men. “Naughty little slut,” you heard Hongjoong growl, slamming himself into you. Your eyebrows scrunched together as you felt him thrust rough into you repeatedly. “P-play with yourself while y-your captain f-fucks me!” you said through broken moans. You watched as they both unbuttoned their pants, sliding their hands down them. They started to move their hands up and down their shafts as they watched you and Hongjoong. “Fuck,” one of the guys moaned, throwing his head back. “Just like that,” you breathed, watching them but also feeling how good Hongjoong was pleasing you. 

You ran circles around your clit as you watched them get off to you being fucked. You could only see their shadows but that didn’t stop your imagination from running rampant. You listened to them give you compliments as they jerked themselves off in front of you. “You look so beautiful taking all of him,” one of the guys grunted, causing you to smile into your moan. They continued to praise you, making your head spiral as you almost met your high again. “Right there Joong, please,” you begged as he started to hit your sweet spot. Your knees started to shake as you felt your orgasm coming. Moans filled the room as the two men were close to cumming as well. Hongjoong slapped your ass as he rammed his dick into you making you scream in pleasure. Your fingers vigorously moved against your clit, making you bite your bottom lip. You couldn’t help but moan Hongjoongs name as he sent you into overdrive. “I’m cumming,” you suddenly heard one of the men say, as he moaned loudly, releasing himself in front of you. “I’m so close,” you heard the other one groan, sending a wave through your body. “Cum for me,” you choked, so close to releasing. “Shit!” you screamed, your legs shaking rapidly, letting your orgasm consume your body. The other man also grunting and releasing in his pants.

You were fulfilled but Hongjoong couldn’t stop fucking you. Your overstimulated core was twitching around him, your walls suffocating his throbbing dick. Your fists clenched together watching the two men leave the room and shut the door. “I’m really close baby, just give me a second,” he groaned, a slight whimper scaping your lips in response. Your fingers continued to lap your clit as Hongjoong hit your g-spot multiple times. You felt like you were going to explode at how good you were feeling. Hongjoongs thrusts were starting to get sloppy as he felt your walls get tighter around him. He couldn’t hold it anymore; he needed to fill you up. “Sweetheart, I’m gonna cum in you,” he grunted, looking down at how your body looked against him. “Cum in me Daddy,” you gasped as you felt him twitch against your walls. Hongjoongs mouth fell wide open as he threw his head back, eyebrows scrunched together. “Y/N,” he screamed, squeezing your hips tightly. You felt his warm cum coat your walls and slowly drip down your thighs. You felt him shutter from behind you as he gasped for air. 

As soon as he caught his breath he started to rub your back. He then slowly pulled out and watched your body lay flat on the bed. Hongjoong took this time to lay you down on your back and pepper you with small kisses. He reached down and removed the belt from your wrist, kissing them as well. He placed your hair to the side, cupping your face, and running his thumb across your cheek. He then grabbed the white button-down that you threw on the bed earlier, wiping the sweat away from your face. He placed kisses on your forehead and smiled at you softly. “You have such pretty eyes y/n,” he cooed, causing you to giggle. He then kissed your nose and made his way down to your core, wiping up the mess that he made between your legs. “My pretty girl,” he whispered against your inner thigh before kissing it gently. He then crawled back up to you and held you tight in his arms, burying his head into your neck. You reached for his head and stroked his hair as he sang a pretty tune. His fingers ran circles around your thigh as you both listened to the sound of the ocean, feeling the light sway of the ship.

#ateez #ateez hongjoong #kim hongjoong #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong smut #ateez smut #atiny #hongjoong fanfic #kpop #pirate au

[noneorother]

All the music you didn’t hear: The Good Omens soundtrack is lying to you. *Part 1*

The Bonkers Meta Series part 2: Electric Boogaloo.

I so rarely get a chance to misuse my experience in classical music, but here we are. When I realized on my most recent watch-through of the series that the David Arnold score was brilliant, but also really wonky in some parts and I couldn’t put my finger on why, @embracing-the-ineffable suggested I listen to the album soundtrack to compare.

And when I tell you what I found hidden in there, you’re going to need Eccles cakes...

1) The Song is the Clue

So right up top we have this banger. The 12th track on the album is the orchestral backdrop to the scene in the Job minisode where Aziraphale reveals Crowley’s crow/goats. The duration is 2:22 (the only track with multiples on the album), and if you look at the track by itself it doesn’t mean much. But the song just before it is actually from this fucking scene:

You know, the one where there’s a song that’s a clue to a mystery. Except Clue is capitalised, and Aziraphale pronounces it. I’ve seen guesses that this is a reference to the movie Clue, but I would put a lot of money on the fact that we are supposed to read the title of the song currently playing at that moment in the show *as a Clue*, which is super convenient, because the word Clue is capitalized in the track listing. 

Seems like the overlords of Good Omens have a message for us : The song is the Clue. It’s what God wants. Cool cool cool. WHAT SONG?

2) Symmetry in all things 

Before I straight up tell you, we have to go back and look at season 1.

Now I’m far from the first to notice tons of parallels between the story, details and even lines in both seasons. It got me thinking that maybe there are some fun synch-up parallels between the two season’s soundtracks, seeing as they are both 6 episodes long. Here’s the end of S1 and then S2

Oh that’s a bummer, I thought to myself. 

They don’t even add up to the same number, or playtime, and neither of them is exactly 60 tracks. But do you want to hear a secret? S2 is actually missing 3 tracks on the album. And because there are 2 discs in S2 (cute), the numbers of the tracks start over again from 1. Remember how much God likes sevens? Check out where all the weirdness is happening in disc 2 (I’ve added the missing track listings in red to add context):

After checking each track with the show and listening side by side (for reasons that will become clear in another post) I can definitively say that there is something *very weird* going on at the end of episode 4. 

First is track 7, Zombie dressing room, which seems to actually reach over two distinct scenes of the photo evidence in the dressing room and then Shax in hell even though it only has one title.

But *between* these two scenes we get an eerily silent wine date with Aziraphale & Crowley.

There’s really no music or even sound here besides the dialogue and room tone (until after the cheers), and it seems like a very intentionally silent version of a ritz date from season 1.

My best guess is that we are supposed to divide that track into two tracks of 7, before and after the date to get a second track 7. Or maybe the silent one is missing music? The third track number 7 is the weirdest one. It’s this scene here, when Nina parks her bike, and Aziraphale parks the car at the end of S2E4.

If you take a close listen to the music, it’s a jaunty little piece, with an oom-pah base in 3 ⁄ 4 time. The thing is, this music does not exist in any Good Omens album. Please feel free to correct me, but I’ve tried to find any part of any song that this could even be a reprise of, and I Shazammed it to be sure it wasn’t anything else. This song does not exist anywhere except in this scene. (It quickly morphs into a reprise of the original theme once Nina leaves Aziraphale). It’s an invisible song.

So we have 3 tracks at the end of S2E4: a long one, a silent one and an invisible one. Only one of which is numbered 7, but that all fit into that place in the track listing.

Which, when we add the two extras to the original total of fifty-nine we get... sixty-one! Hey wait a minute.

How are we going to get to 62?

3) The real missing track. 

So the real reason we had to go back to the S1 album was because it contains the missing track that God is talking about. Let’s compare the last tracks on each album.

I’ve highlighted the mismatch between the in-show music and the album in S2, which means I had to add A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square back into the S2 album because guess what, it’s not in the S2 album. Even though it plays in the show. 

You want to know how not in the album it is? Amazon had to track it in the show as a season 1 song. They had to give Tori Amos credit for her song on Good Omens in the X-ray bonus features because that’s how not in the album this song is.

So my fellow beings, if the song is the Clue, then It’s what God Wants.

And if God wants a happily ever after with Aziraphale and Crowley on their own side, then by Job, I think Neil is going to give it to her.

-----------

And there's more where that came from! Part 2 coming shortly.

#good omens meta #art director talks good omens #go season 2 #good omens 2 #go2 #good omens prime #good omens season two #go meta #good omens season 2 #go3 #good omens 2 meta #crowley x aziraphale #aziraphale #anthony j crowley #good omens spoilers

[lnfours]

tolerate it | l.n

summary: if it’s all in my head, tell me now. tell me i’ve got it wrong somehow.

warnings: happy folklore/evermore season :) angst, language, fears of your partner falling out of love with you, slight anxiety and overthinking, fluffy ending bc i can’t make them stay mad at each other. kinda wanna do an evermore/folklore mini series, let me know if you guys would be interested <3

masterlist | listen

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

the colder weather meant the sun was starting to set earlier, and it was evident as you gazed out the window, sitting at the dining room table. the candle you had lit an hour or so ago flickering softly, illuminating the room with a soft glow as the gloomy sky hovered above.

you sighed to yourself, taking another sip from the wine glass that sat next to your plate. you tapped on your phone screen, lighting up and displaying the time and the picture you had set as your lock screen. the 5:30 hovering tauntingly above the picture of you and lando from a few months back, your smile wide and trying to hide it in his shoulder as he held his camera to the mirror. he was sporting a smile also, you could almost hear your shared giggles through the photo.

he was supposed to be home an hour ago, and nights like this were happening more often. he’d always be an hour to an hour and a half late getting home. it was always an apology, saying ‘training ran late’ or the quadrant shoot ‘ran on longer than it was supposed to’, you’d see him for fifteen minutes while the two of you ate dinner, and then he’d go off to the office until he decides to join you in bed later in the night.

at first, you didn’t complain, knowing he was a man with a busy schedule, but after almost two months of this same song and dance, your anxiety was getting the best of you.

what if he was out with someone else? what if he was slowly losing interest in you? what if he just tolerates you?

the sound of the door closing pulled you from your thoughts, snapping your head up as you heard footsteps enter the room. he placed his keys, wallet and phone on the counter, frowning softly.

“sorry i’m late,” here we go again, “i told max i needed to be home by 4 and he insisted we played another round before i left.”

you nodded, taking another sip from the glass on your right, “‘s fine.”

he watched you swallow thickly, tilting your head to look back out the window. he noticed the way your hand tapped against your arm softly, his eyes moving to the plates set on the table. your grandmother’s china.

his heart dropped when he thought back to your conversation the other night, him saying the two of you would have a proper sit down meal tonight since he felt bad for running late lately.

and he just fucked it all up even more.

“you don’t have to lie,” he said, making you advert your attention back to him, “i know you know it’s not fine.”

you shook your head, “what’s it matter to you, anyway?”

he knew he deserved the digs and jabs you were sending his way, “seriously, lando, if you’re not interested in me anymore just say it instead of making me play this stupid game.”

the silence that fell between the two of you after was the final blow. he watched your cheeks glisten in the soft candle light, and fuck, he hated seeing you cry. especially when it was because of him.

he didn’t know what to say as your chair scraped the floor, getting up from your spot at the table and picking up your plate. the food untouched as you grabbed the saran wrap from the pantry.

he heard your quiet sniffle, “i’m so sorry, y/n-“

“then where have you been the past two months?” he blinked back at you before you continued, “every single day it’s the same, overused excuse. so, what is it really, lando? enlighten me.”

he swallowed because he didn’t have answer that didn’t sound like he was making an excuse. he really had been busy with work, but he knew he could’ve done better with planning to make more time for you and him.

you knew he loved you with every fiber of his being, but you were upset. you were angry and sad and all you wanted was for him to come home and spend time together like the two of you used to do. but it was like it was too much to ask for.

of course you knew what you were signing up for when he took you on your very first date, but you didn’t know it would mean being put on the back burner, begging to be let in on the things going on his life.

his silence made you nod, “right,”

he reached out to you slowly, not sure how you would react. you bit down on your bottom lip, the dam breaking now as he stepped towards you.

“y/n,” he said your name softly, understanding that your lash-outs were because of men who had hurt you in the past, knowing too well what it felt like when anxiety and over thinking takes over. he couldn’t be mad at you, he just wanted to make things right. make you feel reminded that he loved you. more than racing, more than his friends, more than anything in the whole world.

the back of your hands were raised to your eyes when he grabbed them and pulled you closer to him, letting your body rest against his chest. you gave in, knowing that at the end of the day, he was your safe place. your shoulder to cry on, the one who always saw you in your most vulnerable stages. there was no getting past him with this one.

your hands wrapped around his middle loosely as you cried softly into his chest. he rested his head against yours, rubbing your back the same way he always did whenever he’d comfort you. his lips pressed against your hair before he grabbed your face gently, lifting your chin to have you look at him.

he wiped the tears from your cheeks, eyes searching yours and that’s when you realized he had been crying too, “i’m gonna talk to my trainer and the guys and tell them i need a little bit of a break, and you and i are gonna spend every single day together doing whatever you want.”

you felt selfish now, “but this is your job, lan,”

“i don’t care,” he said, shaking his head as he moved his hand to hold your cheek, “they’ll be fine if i take a few days off.”

your hand came up to mimic his on your cheek, your fingers brushing against the small moles on his face. the same ones your lips press against whenever you kiss his face. the pads of your thumbs brushed away the small tear lingering around his nose.

“i’m sorry,” you apologized, feeling guilty for being cold to the boy who loved you like no other.

“don’t apologize,” he said, “i should’ve done better. you don’t deserve to feel like you’re on the back burner of my life.”

you wrapped your arms around his neck as his snaked around your waist, pulling you closer as if it was even possible. you looked back out the window, the light from the golden hour sun shining on the trees in the backyard. he pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek, “i love you.”

you smiled softly, pulling back to meet his gaze. your smile making his lips turn up into one mirroring yours, “i love you, too.”

he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips, a mixture of the wine you had with dinner and the salty tears you had cried a few moments prior with the subtle hint of your chapstick.

you both pulled away, him taking you by surprise when he lifted you off the ground. you squealed, a soft giggle escaping your lips as you clung onto his hoodie for dear life.

“lando!” you laughed, letting him carry you to the couch and thanking yourself for putting his dinner plate in the fridge earlier.

you had your boy back.

#lando norris x reader imagine #lando norris x reader fluff #lando norris imagine #lando norris fluff #lando norris x reader #lando norris #ln4 fluff #ln4 imagine #ln4 #ln4 x reader #mclaren formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x y/n #formula 1 x reader #formula one #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #mclaren f1

[thebearer]

the milestones menu: nonna berzatto's homemade pasta

prompt: yours and carmen's first "i love you".

contains: fluff, general fluff. some mentions to dead relatives, carmen's self doubt, but very minimal bc it's very fluffy :)

2 cups of flour- Semolina. 

4 Large Eggs 

Pinch of Salt

Put flour into a mound. Make a center, and add the eggs to the middle. Whisk slowly with a fork, gradually working it in little at a time until nice and thick. Knead the mixture for about ten minutes. Let it rest in the fridge for thirty minutes. Put it in a ball, and roll it out very thin. 

“Can’t believe you never had homemade pasta.” Carmen shook his head, blue eyes peeking out from under the mess of curls. 

“Nope.” You shook your head, grinning over the crystal wine glass, sipping your riesling slowly. “Strictly a boxed pasta girl.” 

“Fuckin’ criminal.” Carmen grinned, a playful, lopsided smirk that had you blushing.

The counter was covered in flour, stopping just where you rested, propped up on the granite while Carmen worked. Your eyes trained on his hands, hands that stirred the eggs into the flour, kneaded the dough until your thighs were clenching. 

“My Nonna is rollin’ in her grave right now, you know that?” Carmen pulled you from your gaze, rolling out the dough. 

“Noooo, don't say that.” You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re making me feel bad, Carmen. I swear I thought Olive Garden made fresh pasta.” 

Carmen laughed, a little shy but louder now- more himself. He’d blossomed with you lately, unveiling new parts of himself every single day. “‘M just kiddin’, baby.” Carmen hummed, eyes cutting to you a little skeptical. “Sorry, I-I didn’t mean to sound like an asshole. That sounded douchey, right?” 

You smiled, setting your glass behind you. “No, I was just messin’ with you, bear.” The nickname- his nickname. Hearing it more and more roll from your tongue, each time his heart skipped harder than the last. 

“Is this her recipe?” You asked, picking up the faded recipe card, looped cursive on the aged paper. “Your Nonna’s?” 

“Yeah,” Carmen nodded. “I, uh, so when I left to go to culinary school, right? She was sick, and… and I think she, like, knew that when I went to New York that would be the last time she saw me.” Carmen’s face dropped, slow and sad, it made your own heart sink. 

“So she-she gave me all these recipe books and-and cards that were hers. We used to cook together a lot. She taught me how to cook, y’know? My mom and dad were always at the restaurant and didn’t want to cook when they got home. They didn’t want me in the restaurant either so I spent a lot of time with her.” Carmen muttered. You could see the memories playing behind his eyes. 

You liked to picture that version of Carmen, a little boy with wild curls, helping his Nonna cook. Happy memories. 

“That’s sweet.” You smiled, leaning against the cabinets. “She did a really good job. You know she’s so insanely proud of you.” 

Carmen snorted, shaking his head lightly. “Yes, she is. Everyone’s proud of you, Carmen… I’m proud of you.” You hesitate, eyes scanning his features. It was true, of course, but handling Carmen sometimes was like handling a frightened animal. You were never sure what would make him scatter away in fear. 

Carmen swallowed thickly, cheeks flushed red, lips in a tight line. “T-Thanks.” Carmen muttered, wiping his hands on his apron, tossing the flour back into his clammy hands. 

“She, uh, she woulda loved you, y’know.” Carmen’s eyes met yours, intense and piercing. “I wish you coulda met her.” 

“Yeah, me too.” You nod. “I would’ve loved to hear all the baby Carmen cooking stories. I bet she had some good ones.” You smiled, bright and wide- perfect. It made Carmen’s brain numb. 

“Yeah, she would.” Carmen nodded, hands stilling, still buried in the dough. 

He felt it in his bones, his heart, consuming his thoughts. The overwhelming need he’d felt for weeks, since the first time you kissed him really, that he’d been fighting- too scared to say. What he felt every time he looked at you, when he thought about you. 

“Um, I-I wanna say something, and-and I don’t know if I should even fuckin’ say this or-or if it’s… fuck, if you-you feel the same or I just, I don’t wanna fuck this up because this is like the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and-and I’m workin’ on not ruinin’ good shit in my life and bein’ ok with it like-like my therapist says ya know, but-” Carmen rambled, words spilling out in fast, overwhelming bouts that took you by surprise. 

Carmen flustered, reaching a dough covered hand to his face, the sticky batter catching on his brows and hair. He flushed deeply, hands shaking in embarrassment, cursing under his breath. “F-Fuck, I-I’m sorry. I-I, nevermind, it’s not… I don’t know why-why I would-” His hands trembled, body shaking with anger and embarrassment. Way to fuckin’ go, Berzatto, you fuckin’ ruin it. That’s all you ever do, Carmen thought bitterly, wiping his hands off on the cloth. 

“Carm,” You said softly, your voice a beacon in the raging sea of his mind, pulling him out of his own harsh thoughts. 

Carmen turned, a fury flush of pure embarrassment that burnt all down his cheeks to his chest. Eyes soft and wary, hesitant like he was doomed, destined for the worse. 

You slide off the counter easily, grabbing the spare towel, bringing it to his eyebrows, wiping the dough off gently. The softness of your touch soothed Carmen, lulling his hammering heart- he didn’t see your own shaking hands, filled with your own adrenaline nerves. 

You stood in front of him, eyes on the other, careful and watching- unsure. “I-I love you, too.” Your breath hitched, squeezing the words out in a nervous tumble. Carmen didn’t move, body going rigid, heart stopping entirely. The ringing was back in his ears, clouding his brain so loudly he was sure he heard you wrong. 

“I’ve wanted to say it for a while, too, but didn’t…” You shook your head, heat in your own cheeks, eyes casting down to his dough covered hand. “I didn’t know if-if you felt that or if- I don’t know, I didn’t want to seem crazy or obsessive if it was too soon, and-and scare you.” 

“No,” Carmen croaked, tongue thick in his own mouth. “No, I-I mean- fuck,” Carmen shook his head, looking to the wall. He needed a second, words jumbled in his mouth, heart racing, so high off the adrenaline he felt like he could combust at any moment. 

“I-I was gonna say that too.” Carmen nodded, the quirk in your lips making his heart lurch. “That I love you. I was- yeah, I love you. I-I have for a while.” 

“Really?” You whispered, voice tiny and excited, like it was a secret just for the two of you. Maybe it was. 

“Yeah, fuck yeah.” Carmen let out a breathy, shaky laugh. “I love you, and-and I just love you so much it makes my brain hurt sometimes.” 

“Me too.” You grin, a hand pressing to his cheek. “I love you.” The phrase you’d repressed for so long, deprived yourself of saying now spilled out of you like a mantra- like that was all you could say now. 

Carmen grinned, brain bubbly and light. He let you pull him into a kiss, head tilting down, lips molding over yours so they fit perfectly. 

Later over plates of Bologonese, you grinned across the table from Carmen. “If I didn’t tell you I loved you before, I definitely would now.” You moaned, pointing at the plate. “I really was missing out.” 

Carmen beamed under your praise, gooey and love drunk off your words- off you. He knew Viola Berzatto, wherever she was, was boasting with pride. 

And he knew his Nonna would have loved you too. 

#thebearer #carmen berzatto #thebearerblurbs #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #the bear #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto fluff #carmen 'carmy' berzatto #carmy berzatto fluff #the milestones menu #carmen berzatto ​x fem!reader #carmen berzatto x female!reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto fic #carmen berzatto blurb #the bear fx #the bear hulu #the bear fic #the bear fanfiction #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmy the bear

[prettyboypistol]

What if... stuff that m!reader does/can do that makes the mercs flustered? even if its just making them a little embarrassed i need to know!!!

What You Do That Flusters the Mercs! || TF2 x M!Reader

Scout

He likes watching you socialize with people, you naturally lean on walls and tilt your neck up when you laugh- god damn, you look so hot when you laugh!

For some reason, when you throw things and catch them. He has no idea why it just makes his heart skips a beat.

When you focus and your eyebrows knit together and it deadass just stares at you.

Soldier

DISPLAYS. OF. POWER. Deadlift something. Throw an enemy off a cliff. Threaten a Spy and scare him. Solly will never fucking recover.

Independence and general "coolness" makes Jane stumble over his words! You don't need a man, yet you still ask him to assist you? He feels so honored!

Asking for help casually, like said above. When you extend your hand out to grab something from him it makes Soldier scream internally.

Pyro

The fact that you're kind to people makes them like you. You're sweet and polite and cordial when you want to be. You're not annoying or hard ot read or obnoxious- you're just kind.

When you take your time with things to understand them. They daydream about spilling all their secrets to you.

Protectiveness really flusters Pyro. One time in battle, Pyro was cornered. You slammed the Scouts with a metal pole and growled that "nobody touches our Pyro!". They haven't stopped thinking about that. Nor will they ever.

Demo

Tavish is enamoured with your sense of humor. He loves how you're quick to make a joke and open to laughing at anything.

Can't help but blush when you stare at him. Yeah, half of the times you stare, you're spacing out, but Tavish still looks away and is flushed a pretty deep red.

The joking flirting??? YEAH HE STARTED IT BUT THAT DOESN'T MEAN YOU'RE ALLOWED TO BE THAT HOT

Engie

Hard work and general work ethic.

Dell is super insecure about the fact the finds you super hot when you're sweaty. After a battle or working out is when Dell seems to linger around, stealing glances at you.

WHEN. YOU. PRAISE. HIS. INVENTIONS. That replays in his head all week long.

Heavy

He likes to watch you spar with people with stuff like wrestling/boxing, especially when you swing Scout around like a baseball bat.

There was one time where you and Heavy were in a tough spot against the enemy team, down by 4 kills. There was just something in your eye that had a light of fire and determination. Seeing that is how he fell for you.

Cook for this man please he will love you and blush forever.

Medic

CASUAL KNOWLEDGE ABOUT MEDICAL PAPERS AND SCIENTIFIC STUDIES. GOD YES.

Cooing with his birds??? He wants to pick you up and spin you around and kiss you and-

He really likes when you challenge him. You give this confident smirk and your tone shifts that make Medic want to just scream about how handsome you are.

Spy

Spy's a man with refined taste. He likes his men like he likes his wine: aged finely and polished to perfection. He likes when you're classy and get onto the others about acting crass and classless.

If you can dance, Spy absolutely pulls some strings to have you two on a mission where you two are in matching suits and dancing together.

Spy once was muttering to himself in french and you catch him and you just lean over the back of the couch, look down at him with a knowing smile and just respond in french as well "now now, a lady shouldn't scowl like that." He knew you meant it as a playful insult, but he blushed wildly under his mask.

Sniper

Mick's downright horrendously flustered when you make eye contact with him. You're a tad shorter than he is, so you looking up from behind to him makes Mick shake in his boots.

Bro please don't grunt/groan in effort at anything. He will NOT stop thinking about that.

When you accidentally look at him during missions. He's always keeping an eye on you, so when you stare back at him it makes his heart flutter.

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #tf2 sniper #tf2 x reader #tf2 medic #tf2 engineer #tf2 spy #tf2 demoman #sniper x reader #fanfiction #tf2 engie #tf2 demoman x reader #tf2 scout #tf2 scout x reader #tf2 soldier x reader #tf2 pyro x reader #tf2 heavy x reader #tf2 engineer x reader #tf2 sniper x reader #tf2 spy x reader #tf2 medic x reader #tf2 x mreader #tf2 x male reader #tf2 mercs x reader

[bettsfic]

Betts. how do I stop feeling jealous of everyone and everything and just focus on myself? I'm tired of being comprised of nothing but envy.

story time:

so i was recently at Millay, which is one of the top artist residencies in the country. they have an acceptance rate of something like 3%. when i was shown my room, there was a packet of all the residents' artist bios. i sat down and read through all of them. most of them were like half a page in length, single-spaced, listing out accomplishments i could never dream of. one artist had won a guggenheim. one author had published 12 books. another author published her first book at 19 years old. these were people who were extremely well accomplished and respected in their fields.

and we all became very good friends!

and then there was me. my bio was 3 sentences listing out a couple short publications and awards and other residencies i'd done. and my honest to god first thought was, "wow, the jurors must have really liked my writing to have accepted me among all these great artists."

and my second thought was, "that's the healthiest thing i have ever thought."

i had no jealousy of their accomplishments. even though my career hadn't even begun compared to theirs, i didn't attend dinner that night with any impostor syndrome. and that confirmed for me that i had grown out of whatever place i used to be in as a person, where i was basically a raw wound wrapped in barbed wire. everything hurt me and i hurt everything in return.

jealous feelings come from an intense need of external approval, but as i've mentioned in other asks, approval and validation is a well that gets filled over time. at our introductory dinner that night, i didn't talk about my work in the hope of convincing everyone i deserved to be there, which was what i would've done a few years before. instead we all ended up talking about a TV show. the most highbrow place i've ever been in my life, and we're getting wine drunk and discussing at length a cheesy discovery channel reality series. the guggenheim winner: loves box turtles. the guy who's published 12 books: his favorite movie is Spirited Away. the girl who published a book at 19: reads One Direction fanfic. the well-lauded poet: old school tumblrina.

actually, 4 out of 7 of us read fanfic and we had some great conversations about it. sometime i'll tell you about introducing the co-director of the residency to AO3.

when you think of the most accomplished and successful writer you've ever read, remember that they are, at the very core of their being, a nerd. and if you were to eat dinner with them, you would, with enough polite inquisitiveness, be able to unlock the goofy side of them that binges Property Brothers.

so that was the big change for me, i think. i started asking a lot of questions. i stopped talking and i started listening. it seems counterintuitive that admitting to not knowing stuff shows confidence, but it does. pretending you know stuff is what looks insecure. i think for me, i put so much of myself in my work, i wanted my work to be lauded so i could feel accomplished, and feeling accomplishment would let me believe i deserved to exist. but over time, i've reframed that mentality. my work is a thing that exists beyond me and is private to those who read it. it comes from me, but it is not me. what i am is just the person i am, and my life is a series of moments i choose for myself, and i am allowed to exist.

even sending this ask shows that you've begun filling your well. it takes someone who's already come a long way to realize jealousy isn't the status quo and is a feeling to be overcome. and you can overcome it. you can reach a place where you have enough success that other people's success has nothing to do with you, and you're free to just be happy for them. and when you read work that's better than yours you feel joy at learning something new.

so put your work into the world and let it be rejected. you'll rack up a couple wins or close calls, and those will give you energy to be rejected some more. and eventually you'll be rejected so much that rejection doesn't feel like anything, and you will have won enough to realize your work has a place in the world, and that place is no bigger or smaller than anyone else's. your work is allowed to exist simply as it is, and you are allowed to exist simply as you are.

#writing advice #feelings #jealousy