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#i enjoyed it and i think the ending makes sense
scarfacemarston · 2 days
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Teacher!Natasha x Teacher!Reader Oneshot
For Lesbian Visibility Week! If you enjoyed this, please note and reblog! Feel free to send other prompts or requests! Prompt: The students come into your classroom complaining about Natasha as a teacher not knowing you're her wife. This is version 1. You sighed as you glanced at the digital clock on your computer. Damn. Your planning period was almost over, and you really needed to finish grading these essays. Soon, you would be back to teaching your high school history classes for the day. The period ended far too quickly as students began to file their way into the classroom, discussing this and that. You were so engrossed in your work that you were hardly paying attention until you heard “Ms. Romanoff” mentioned not once, not twice, but in a string of sentences. Oh boy. Ms. Romanoff was one of the more controversial teachers at the school known for her no-nonsense attitude, sternness and sarcasm , but she was also fair with a dry sense of humor. “Why did I take international politics as an elective? Oh, that’s right, I thought it would look good on my transcript!” One student said sarcastically. “She’s so nitpicky! I got an A-. AN A MINUS!” “Hers is the only class I don’t fall asleep in anymore. Not since….last time.” “She’s so strict even the Macklin brothers shut up.” “She’s terrifying. I heard she used to be an undercover agent in the CIA”. You smirked at that one. You should probably look into that rumor. “A spy? Shut-up, man. Who’s going to believe that?” “I heard she was a failed actress.” “I heard she voiced the Russian Siri.” “I heard she’s a rich heiress that lost all her cash.” “Look, guys, I don’t care. She just ripped our class to shreds.I just can’t right now. Nearly the entire class failed her last test. These test corrections are going to take all night.” “At least you’re allowed test corrections! We’re her AP class and the only way we can make up points is through a new essay.” “She’s scary. I swear” “I think she knows what I’m thinking and then that makes me think more and then she thinks what I’m thinking and that thinking makes my head hurt.” “I was ONE minute late to class and she gave me a late slip!” “One time my grandma called me in class, and she made me pick it up.” You shot a quick text to Natasha before the bell rang. Her classroom was two doors down from yours since you two were technically in the same department. Time to log off your grading program and begin class. You pulled out the binder with today’s lesson plans ready to begin. “Wow, you all are full of comments about Ms Romanoff today.” You said neutrally. “Miss Y/N, you don’t understand. She’s so ….uh, extra.” You withheld a smirk. Natasha wasn’t what you would call extra, but she was set in her ways.” “I don’t think she’s extra. I think she just has high standards.” You responded. One of the students rolled their eyes.
"Do you all talk about me like this when I'm not here?"
"Nooo Ms. Y/N, we would never!"
"Well, maybe you could extend the same courtesy to my wife next time," you said, withholding a laugh. The room fell silent. A pin could have dropped.
“Fuck” you heard someone say under their breath. “Language”, you chastised, but you couldn’t say you blamed them. You saw the students in various forms of awkward shuffling, a cough here or there or “Ummm” or “Uhh” as students tried to form sentences. “Wait, you’re married?” a student questioned before being glared at by the others. Your fourth period class was near silent for the rest of the period, with the students seemingly still in shock. One minute til the bell rang. You saw a flash of red hair out of the corner of your eye. Thirty seconds. Natasha knocked on the door. “Hey, you, we’re all ordering from Robert’s Deli for lunch. You want your usual or will you finally try something new?” Natasha teased. The class whipped their heads collectively towards the door. It was becoming harder not to laugh. Natasha narrowed her eyes. “What’s going on, Y/n?” “Oh, you’re scaring my class, dear!” You said, smiling widely. Natasha scoffed. “Dear, huh? Oh, so they found out, didn’t they? As if us entering the building together and leaving together in the same car wasn’t hint enough that we’re married.  Yeah, I might have scared a few of them. It was well deserved, trust me, Isn’t that right, Reynolds?” Jason Reynolds sank down into his seat, not meeting Natasha’s eyes. The bell rang. The students couldn’t scramble enough as they grabbed their bags and rushed past Natasha. You gave a small laugh as you finally met Natasha. “You’re a mean woman, you know that?” “Hey, you texted me, babe.” “It was great, not gonna lie. Sorry the “secret” is out.” “It’s not like we’re closeted, we’re simply professional. I’m surprised they didn’t figure it out sooner….or maybe I’m not.” Natasha muttered. Your stomach growled. “Alright, I’ll look up the menu. Find something new to try for once. Promise.” You said in response to your stomach. Natasha nodded. “Don’t want you to scare the next class because you’re hungry.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
End
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scudevils · 19 hours
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thick thighs save lives — QH43
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pairing: quinn hughes x fem!reader
warnings: essentially smut with minimal plot (easing myself back into writing), thigh riding (🤭🤭), swearing, playoff beard representation, pretty much me just loving big thighs icl, sappy sap is back (i would say i’m sorry but im not), not proofread!!
synopsis: name a better match than hockey players and thick thighs [1.8k]
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hockey players and thick thighs, a match made in heaven some way would say, their wives would anyway and you could definitely attest to it.
you were obsessed from the moment you'd started dating, wether it was not so innocent glances when he'd be wearing just slightly too short shorts, the ones that rode up when he sat down and especially when he wore trunks at the pool. or when you had no impure thoughts as you sat on his lap, maybe it was watching tv, sharing a seat whilst at the lakehouse or just whenever you wanted to be close to him.
long story short, you liked quinn's thighs, and he was more than aware of it.
you were staring, but of course you were, years after you'd first begun dating and quinn and you were still deep in the honeymoon phase, you were as smitten as a woman on her wedding day if what your mother would say. the weatherman was right for once, mid 20s felt like paradise after the cold winter, and you were all out enjoying the sun whilst it lasted.
the season had ended a few weeks ago, the canucks being knocked out of the second round of the playoffs by just a goal and you were sad for quinn, his second season as captain of the team and you knew he wanted to replicate the success of the first. but unfortunately, things weren't meant to be and he was home earlier than expected, not that you were complaining.
you felt like a damn perv, eyeing up your boyfriend from the deck chair across from him, you knew he needed this time to relax, destress from the season, and what he didn't need was you wanting to fuck him every two seconds. but he was just as bad, he hadn’t been able to take his eyes off of your chest the second you’d gone out in your bikini.
quinn's head was back against the chair, eyes shut underneath his dark lensed glasses as he faced the sky, the sun shining on his already pink-tinged cheeks, you did warn him to wear suncream, his hands were comfortably sat on his stomach, but all you could look at were his short-clad thighs, the bright blue material standing out against his slightly tanned skin in a way that had you going feral.
you wanted him, needed him in every sense of the word. perhaps there was something wrong with you, the way you couldn't help but squeeze your legs shut as you thought about the way you wanted to use his thigh. "can feel you starin'" his voice broke through the silence, your thoughts punctured by reality when he tilted his head so his eyes could meet yours.
"admiring." you corrected him, a playful smile toying on your lights as he let out a laugh, sitting up and you couldn't help the glance towards his thighs, spread out across both sides of the chair and you were almost certain he was doing it on purpose.
his beard had grown out since the regular season had finished, still not having shaved it since they'd been eliminated from the playoffs and you were doing everything to deny the inevitable. you thought he looked hot with it, he always did to you but there was something about quinn with a beard that really did it for you.
"hm, and what're you admiring?" oh he'd definitely caught you staring, a blush blazing on your cheeks at the thought of his knowing how badly you wanted him, and he could tell your brain was about to short circuit when he beckoned you over; sitting you between his legs on the lounger. "well you gonna tell me?"
“you know what." you didn't make eye contact as you spoke, burying your head in his neck in embarrassment as he wrapped his arms around your back.
"do i? think i'm gonna need a reminder."
"quinn..." you dragged out his name, your cheeks still a burning shade of pink and you swore in that moment you'd die of embarrassment. his hand moved from behind your back to rest just under your chin, lifting your head enough to force you to look at him, his pupils more blown out than before.
he hummed in response, his lips on your neck in a second and you were forced to suck in a breath, hands pressed against his chest to regain balance when you found yourself grinding your hips down against his, a groan falling from his mouth muffled by your skin. "wanna ride your thigh, please q."
you felt quinn smile against your collarbone, his lips not leaving you when you felt his hands on your hips readjusting you over one of his thighs. "love it when you tell me what you want." he muttered against you, voice thick as it dripped with lust.
tilting your head to the side you allowed him more access to your neck, feeling the way he left opened mouthed kisses against you that you knew for certain would leave bruises later but in that moment you didn't care. it was a new sensation for you, the thick muscle underneath you and you gave an experimental roll of your hips against it, pleasure shooting through your body from the friction.
the growing pressure between your legs caused a few small moans to escape your mouth, the feeling slowly building. he moved his arm to join the other on your hip, being able to rock them more forcefully now. "is this what a few weeks without me does to you? gets you so desperate you'll ride my thighs?"
his hand forced your jaw up to look at him, your eyes still not meeting his and quinn couldn't help the laugh that fell from his lips. "been wanting to do this for a while yeah? keep seeing you looking at 'em."
the pace of your moving hips never faltered, the look he was giving you somehow adding to the growing pleasure, like he was almost impressed you could get yourself off like this, or more so that you'd been thinking about it to. "fuck, quinn, yes." his head tilted to the side, the hand on your jaw staying firm with one of his fingers tapping against the skin. "been thinking about this for so long."
your confession ignited a fire inside of him, a moan slipping from your lips as he tensed the muscle underneath you, helping you roll your hips against him in a way that nearly had you crying out. warmth pooled in your stomach, feeling the way you clenched around nothing as you continued rocking your body against his, desperate for any sort of release but he wasn't going to help you out.
"cmon baby, know you can get there yourself." he replied when you let out a whine about how it wasn't enough and you needed more, he gave in a little bouncing his leg and catching you off guard, adding to the sensation. the nature of his word made goosebumps raise on your arms despite the warm temperatures, feeling your nippled harden against your bikini top, and it sent a shiver down your spine in anticipation.
"'m so close, q," you moaned against his neck, heading falling into the curve of his shoulder as you bit down on the skin when he flexed under you again, sending a ripple of pleasure through your body.
"you gonna me a mess on my thigh? know you've been thinking 'bout it." you didn't even have to look to know quinn was grinning like the fucking cheshire cat, almost certain he was somehow enjoying this more than you were, his hands holding a tighter grip on your hips as he took over some of the work, pressing you against his thigh as you let out a louder whine of his name.
the coil in your stomach wound tighter, the rush of warmth throughout your body hitting you like a ton of bricks as your body collapsed against his, thighs shaking around his as you cried out, whimpers and whines as he took over, guiding your hips over his thigh as he helped you ride it out. when his grip against your waist didn't stop, the sensitivity causing you to whine into his shoulder.
"thats the hottest fucking thing i've ever seen." quinn could feel your heart still beating rapidly against his chest, spurring him on even more to get you to another orgasm on just his thigh. your thighs were still shaking around him, a little light headed when he spoke again. "one more?"
“quinn-" your voice was breathless when you tried to argue back, throat hoarse from before and you knew arguing was futile.
"know you can." his lips found your temple, reassuringly kissing it. "just like that." he swore he was going mad, hearing you whimpering into his shoulder again, not trusting your arms enough to be able to support you.
quinn's words of praise were a killer, enough to tip you over the edge whenever he wanted you to. you were putty in that mans hands the second he started sweet talking you.
just as before you felt the familiar feeling building in your stomach, much quicker than before, the muscles in your core already tensing. quinn could read your body like a book, not even needing to ask if you were closer before you were coming undone on his thigh again.
your nails dragged down his back, most likely going to leave red scratch marks for the next couple days, and he was thankful he didn’t have the boys to tease him about them this time. his hands stopped their movements of your hips, allowing you the minute or two you needed to come down from your high and catch your breath once again.
quinn pushed the fallen hair out of your face, lifting your lips to meet his in a soft kiss, tender, wanting nothing out of it but to show you that he loved you. “you're so good to me." his praise already igniting that feeling in your stomach again. “gonna need you to do that more often.”
you laughed against his chest, finding the strength to push yourself up to see his face, holding his jaw in your hands as you placed a chaste kiss to his lips, enjoying the scratch of his grown out stubble underneath your fingertips. “whilst we’re talking about kinks, you’re keeping the beard.”
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bisexualiteaa · 1 day
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DESPERATELY needing a sequel to the sex pollen! Fic,,, they keep the chems and cooper takes some either on purpose or by accident and poor vaultie is going to have to consider restraining him 👅 he's too feral (in the BEST sense)
A Flame in Your Heart Pt. 2
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Cooper Howard x Fem Reader (SMUT!!)
CW: established relationship, cursing, NSFW MDNI, slight deviation from TV show, slight OOC Cooper, perverted thoughts, oral (fem recieving) drug use, alcohol use, dub-con (from drug use but consent is very clearly given!!) sex-chem usage! p in v, p0rn w/o plot, absolute filth, riding, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, multiple irradiated cream pies, fluffy ending, briefly proof read, possible spelling/grammar errors
AN: and just like our man Hancock needing love, had to make sure ol’ Coop got some love too. 😉 I’m glad this one has done so well! I hope I did your ask justice Anon! Thank you again for your request and I hope you enjoy the absolute FILTH that is this sequel. 👅
After your accidental discovery of the sex chem that led to your crazy sexcapade, Cooper decided to pocket the borderline heat inducing drug for a later use. He’d be a liar if he said the idea of *him* experimentally taking it hadn’t crossed his mind a plethora of times since the incident. Would it have any effect on him? Would it make him as sensitive and desperate as you were? Or would his body take it in stride like everything else? He figured there was really only one way to find out the answer to his curiosities. So one night, when you hadn’t any bounties the next day, were stocked on supplies and just had a chance to stay and hole up at the mini-mart, that’s exactly what he did. He popped it, chasing it with whatever liquor was on hand at the time in his flask hidden in his duster, waiting for it to start to take effect.
In the time that he had taken the pill without your knowing, you were running around cleaning the place up some, and then making dinner. Little did he know, you had snuck one for yourself just a little prior when he wasn’t looking, also thinking that tonight would be the perfect night to go all out like the last time. He smirked to himself as he watched you run around everywhere, watching your hips sway as you walked, paying close attention to your ass that was mostly covered in the shorts you were wearing, save for the bottom part of your ass cheeks that poked out some and the back of your bare thighs each time you’d bend over. It had been a while since the last time you two had a chance to do anything intimate other than a short quickie in fear of raiders catching you in, quite literally, a vulnerable position. It was as his eyes began to linger and follow you that he started feeling the unbearable heat you complained about, coupled with the way that he was now painfully hard in his pants in a way he hadn’t been in a long time. He contemplated walking up behind you and pressing himself against you to make it known, yanking your little ripped up shorts and panties down and taking you right then and there, but he resisted. Damn was he hard as fuck though. It was actually beginning to become a bit of a problem for him, he couldn’t move without it brushing against the fabric of his pants, or seem to find a way to sit comfortably unless he had his legs spread. Then he’d think about how pretty you’d look on your knees, not caring about the dirt on the floor as you’d sit between his legs with his fat cock in your mouth. He grunted softly to himself as he slid his hand into one of his pockets incase you would turn around to look at him and see the tent in his pants.
Little did he know that you were doing some of the teasing things on purpose, bending over in front of him when you didn’t need to, taking off your shirt when you complained about it being too hot. You were about ready to skip dinner to head straight for dessert, but you knew you had to play this out, and you needed to play it smart. Poor Cooper on the other hand wasn’t holding up as well as he thought he would, it was as if it got worse and worse in cruel phases. First is the absurdly high body temperature, higher than normal. Then came the perverted thoughts he couldn’t shake as he stared at you, then the throbbing to his dick, and it only intensified the longer he went without some form of relief.
“I ever tell you ya look damn good in them shorts, sugar?” He asked, practically staring holes into you as you’d bent over in front of him to pick up a few stray things off the floor. “Plenty of times, but I’ll always take some more compliments. They’re a hot commodity when they come from you” you said back a little too flirtatiously as you stood back up far too slowly for it not to be intentional, paired with a mischievous grin to match and his dick damn near jumped in his pants. “You bend over one more god damn time, I ain’t responsible for what happens next, little lady” he threatened, making you give a sound of intrigue at his threat before giggling as a heat coursed through your body from the thought. Being bent over the couch again as your legs were spread and his hand rested in your hair wasn’t a half bad spot to find yourself in. In fact you craved that, hoping the chem would help you release that inner whore he liked so much. “Don’t threaten me with a good time. Is it a “not making it through dinner” kinda night tonight then?” You asked teasingly before he did a “come hither” motion with his finger, urging you closer to him before patting his lap for you to take a seat on. “It’s a “not even making it to dinner” kinda night sweetheart. And I don’t think I’m the only one thinkin’ I’d rather have dessert first for a change” he said, making you grin even wider and god how he just wanted to make those pretty eyes of yours roll into the back of your head. You climbed onto his lap, straddling his legs as you sat down with a grin, your hands roaming his chest and beneath his duster to signal him to remove it as you leaned in close. “Well then take it if you want it so bad, honey” you challenged, making him give an amused hum in response before leaning up and pulling you into a needy, heated kiss. You smiled into it as you rolled your hips against his, earning a deep, guttural groan as his hands soon found purchase on your ass, roughly squeezing it in his large hands. He enjoyed the moans that left you from his rough treatment as he made your hips continue to roll against his as your hands traveled along his chest. “I see what left ya so needy for me, took one of them lil’ Date Nights you were trippin’ on a while back. Been achin’ to fuck you stupid” he said, making you giggle as his lips found the sensitive skin of your neck. “Mmm…well we’re certainly in for a treat. ‘Cause I took one too” you replied, making him chuckle.
It didn’t take long before Cooper found his way between your legs, what you hadn’t been expecting was the fact that he had you sat down on his face. Sure he’s eaten you out before, but for a man who needed to feel in control and dominant in just about every situation in life, it was nice to let that go for a little bit. “Fuck! Oh god, Cooper…” you moaned as his tongue violated you, sinking deep into your entrance, then working its way up to tease your clit. You sighed blissfully as your hips rolled against the wet muscle, making him groan as you used him. His hands gripped your thighs roughly, keeping you against him and allowing you to do what you needed to seek release as he devoured you like you were his last meal. “So good f’ me” he rasped out before going to suck on your clit, leaving you screaming for him as it brought you closer. You were embarrassed by how fast the knot in your stomach was already close to snapping, blaming the chem for the way it’d get you so worked up you’d be cumming quicker than you normally do. Or at least you would be if it didn’t feel so damn good. He moaned into you at the taste of you, watching all the faces you made from beneath you so he had the perfect view of you, listening to all your pretty sounds, it was all too much for him to handle with such a powerful chem in his system. You felt him groan into you as you came on his tongue, feeling his body move to buck his hips into the air as he reached his peak without a single touch. You sighed happily as you worked yourself down from cloud nine, bucking your hips against his tongue gently before finally letting up and letting him move. “Well ain’t that somethin’” he said as you both shifted lower to straddle his lap before seeing cum painting his lower stomach and still leaking from his cock that twitched with need.
You gave an intrigued chuckle at the sight, taking his heavy cock in your hands and working it up and down, using his cum as lube. He hissed at the sensitivity he normally never felt, he usually had a remarkably quick recovery time if he wanted to go multiple rounds, but it was apparent that this chem had all sorts of effects that made him feel human again. “Been a long time since I had that happen” he said, making you grin. “Kinda hot if you ask me” you replied, making him give a raspy laugh in response as he softly tapped your ass to get you to stop using your hand already and ride him. He watched as you sank down onto him, moaning as you felt him stretch your walls out before he cruelly slammed himself the rest of the way inside of you. Your body jolted from the sudden intrusion, white hot electricity climbing up your spine from it before he was moving you at his own brutal pace. “Ain’t got time for subtleties here, darlin’, certainly ain’t got the patience to go slow” he said, and judging by the loud moans and way your eyes were rolling to the back of your head already as his tip bullied the apex to your cervix, he figured that was alright by you. “Cooper! Holy shit…” you managed to say through your moans as your hands rested against his chest, doing all you could to hold on for dear life as he used you like a sex toy. “Fuck sugar, always squeezin’ me so damn tight, even after all the times I fuck you” he commented, enjoying the way your face would twist up in momentary pain each time he’d first slide in like he was too big for you to handle. He always loved that, enjoying the way you’d eagerly prove you could take it all, hungry to have him balls deep so that he could reach all those spots inside of you your fingers couldn’t reach. The sound of skin harshly slapping skin, the squelching of your pussy as he drilled into you from below you and your shared pants and moans filled the air like a symphony of pure, unadulterated sin. You just couldn’t get enough of it, and neither could Cooper.
He groaned as he looked down at the sight of his cock disappearing inside of your tight cunt, watching as a ring formed around the base of him from your excitement. He always wondered how a sweet thing like you managed to fall for such a depraved man like himself, but it was moments like this that reminded him that you weren’t as sweet as you lead on to be. He watched as you sat back on the haunches of your feet, your thighs jiggling, tits bouncing as your eyes clenched shut from bliss. “Huh-uh, eyes on me pretty lady” he said, pulling your attention down to him, your half lidded gaze falling upon him made him about ready to cum again if he wasn’t careful. Your mouth hung partially open as your brows furrowed from pleasure, and judging by the pitch of your moans and how close together they were getting, he could tell you were close. “Come on baby, cum for me. Wanna see that pretty face twist up and scream for me” he said, making you bite your lip as your mind clouded over, not a single thought in your head save for his name falling from your lips. “Cooper! Gonna cum, gonna cum!” You warned, your hands coming to you with your breasts to add some stimulation to send you over the edge. “That’s it, go ‘head. Let go f’ me” he responded, talking you through it as your legs clamped against the outsides of his thighs, your walls squeezing around him as you came with a scream of his name.
He wasn’t much farther behind, a few sloppy, uncoordinated thrusts later and your walls were painted with his seed, a groan leaving him as he throbbed inside of you, feeling you milk him for all he could give you. You looked at each other, gasping for air and sweat lightly collecting along your skin but it wasn’t enough to sate the beast inside you both. So rather than enjoying the after glow, you were being manhandled into a new position. This time you were on the couch, on your hands and knees as he lined himself up to your leaking hole from behind. His fingers collected his spend that was dripping from you and down the insides of your thighs, grinning as he pushed it back inside. “Bet you’d love if I fucked a cute little baby into you, wouldn’t ya?” He asked, and the thought sent a pleasant tingle straight to your core at the idea of being bred. You whimpered as he teased his tip up and down your slit, collecting your combined cum together as lube as he chuckled. “Too bad them days are gone” he said, soon lining himself up to your entrance finally and pushing in with little resistance. You moaned and arched your back as he sheathed himself in one thrust, your hands clenching the arm rest of the couch as support. “Don’t mean we can’t practice incase they ain’t” he said, starting his brutal pace once more, leaving you slack jawed as your head tilted back to moan from how he hit all sorts of spots inside of you that you loved. “Yes! Want that so bad” you moaned, making him chuckle. “I bet you do” he replied with a smirk, his hands gripping your hips once more as he fucked you, watching your ass and thighs jiggle from the force of his hips meeting yours. “Wanna be bred, have my babies?” He asked, making you whimper as your walls tightened around him at the thought. “Want that so bad, please!! Knock me up” you moaned, truly lost in a whole different world from the pleasure. He gave a dry chuckle, enjoying the way you were so honest and so carefree when it came to sex, it was like you were a whole different person when he was inside of you. “Bet you do, such a good little whore for me ain’tchya?” He asked, making you moan once more at the use of praise and degradation together for something so blissfully sinful. “Yes! All yours, Cooper” you replied through your pants and gasps as he angled his thrusts to press against that sweet bundle of nerves deep inside of you that drove you crazy.
He watched as you began to melt, lowering your upper body down and leaving your ass up to create the perfect arch for him to keep hitting it. “Yeah, ya like that spot, sweetheart?” He asked, as if the answer wasn’t obvious but he was a little lost himself in it all, never the type to ramble so much during sex but you both realized that chem could do some pretty interesting things. “Yes!! Don’t stop, don’t stop! I’m so fucking close!” You pleaded, and who was he to deny you when you looked this good for him? He gave a devious grin as his hand reached down into your hair, pushing your face into the couch cushions. Not enough to suffocate you, but enough to establish just who was in charge this time. Despite your face being held into the couch, your moans were still loud as ever, not that he’d ever complain. “Cooper!!” You cried as you came powerfully around his dick, your walls squeezing him tight as your release gushed and covered his cock, sending him tumbling over the edge himself as he spilled inside of you once more. “Fuck…I love it when you do that” he said, tapping your outer thigh as a signal to move positions, lazily flipping yourself on your back as he kicked your legs apart once more, already ready to go at it again. “Can gimme one more, yeah sugar?” He asked you, and he knew like this, you’d give him anything he ever asked for. So it was no surprise that your legs locked around his hips as he slipped inside of you for the third time that evening.
As an hour or two soon came to pass, you weren’t exactly sure how long it’d been, time was completely lost on you at this point, you both were just happy to have found yourselves finally sated from the powerful effects of the chem. You both panted, looking at each other with grins at the fact that the most memorable night of your relationship had just occurred once again. “That will never NOT be fun” you replied, making him laugh dryly as he took a swig from his flask before offering it to you once he was finished. You happily accepted as you took a few sips from it, unsure whether it eased or burned your tired throat even more but you didn’t care, it was something at least. “Been thinkin’ whether it’d actually work for me like it did for you, guess we got that answer” he said as he got up to find something to clean yourselves up with, making you laugh in response. “Well, was certainly my kinda date night” you said, watching him walk back over with a wet rag in hand to clean you up then himself before slipping his briefs back on and his shirt. “Too bad dinner’s cold now” you said, making him shrug nonchalantly, earning an eye roll from you as you slipped your underwear and a shirt back on, then dished out two bowls of your famous stew he loved so much. “If it’s made by you, ain’t nothin’ out there that could possibly ruin it” he said, kissing your head sweetly as you handed him his bowl, both of you sitting back on the couch together.
You leaned your head against his shoulder with a soft, happy smile while you watched some of the tapes left behind to play in the TV, having something akin to the wasteland version of movie night. His arm draped around you to pull you into his side, keeping you close to him as he smiled softly down at you. He couldn’t believe that he managed to snag one hell of a woman out here in the wastes, but one thing was for sure, he certainly wasn’t letting you go now or ever.
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latenightdaydreams · 2 days
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https://twitter.com/luxus_hella/status/1633399608041951232?t=xXrG757t_EISG_u7jzBu5A&s=19
Can you write about Konig and reader who can squirt a lot like that? And Konig can stay up whole night to fuck her, the bedroom will totally be a massive mess afterwards 😋
That video is wild! I feel like König would go FEARAL watching y/n squirt like that😮‍💨
König x TooWet!Reader (fem)
MDNI🔞
Master List
>cw: fem/afab, oral, p in v, squirting
1.0k word count
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König has started to date recently after retiring from KorTac. He spent hours wasted on dating apps when one day while on a walk he bumped into you. You instantly caught his eye, and your natural flirty nature made him gravitate towards you. You didn’t act afraid of him because of his size, you seemed to enjoy it. A few weeks into dating, you invited him into your home after a goodnight kiss. One thing led to another…
“Oh god yes!”
You moan at the top of your lungs as you lie naked on your bed, your legs spread wide open and König’s naked body lingers over you. His muscles flexed as he quickly moved his two fingers in and out of your little cunt. Just two of his fingers fill you and your orgasm is quickly building.
König leans down and kisses your cheek softly as he focuses on the sounds of your moans increasing. He knows you’re about to cum and he is filled with excitement that he’s gotten you to this point. His lips move down the side of your face to your neck. He plants wet kisses, biting lightly every now and then.
“Cum for me Liebling,” he pants slightly from his arm, pumping in and out so rapidly.
You look at him nodding your head as your eyes roll back and your moans turn into small screams of pleasure. You feel a pressure building up that you’ve never felt before, but you allow yourself to feel it all. And then, you squirt. A lot. König feels you squirt on his chest as he looks down and sees a geyser and he smiles wide. He moves his hand back and forth on your clit disrupting the stream and spraying it around the bed and the both of you.
Once it ends you lay there feeling embarrassed, you’ve never done that before. You look at König to see a wide smile on his lips and a twinkle in his eyes. He looks at the mess he has helped you create and he feels so proud.
“Mein Gott, I didn’t know you could do that.” He leaned down and began to kiss your lips with a new found passion. You’ve triggered something in you and all he can think about is making you do that again.
“I didn’t know I could…” You say meekly.
“That’s- that was your first-time squirting?”
“Yes.”
He can sense the embarrassment in your voice and kisses the tip of your nose before rubbing his wet hand along your soaked thighs.
“I loved it,” his voice low and dripping with desire. “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced.”
You blush and cover your face with your hands while giggling. He chuckles as his fingers gently begin to touch your folds, teasing you.
“Let me make you squirt again Liebling.” Slowly his fingers slip into your pussy again.
You let out a pathetic moan and he curls his fingers upwards and fingers you. He leans his face down to your thighs and begins to kiss up and down, licking the liquid still dripping from them. Your hand moves to his head, grasping his light blonde hair. He takes the signal and moves his mouth to your sweet pussy. His fat tongue parting your glistening folds, tasting you. 
You look down at him panting, your body becoming consumed by the feeling of ecstasy. His blue eyes looking back up at you, taking in the look of pleasure on your face. You press his face more into your pussy, he loves it and breaths you in while wrapping his lips around your clit. His erect cock leaking on his thigh, eager to fuck you.
“König, please!”
He keeps his fingers moving at the same pace so he doesn’t ruin your orgasm. Your back arches and you try to push his head away but he doesn’t budge, not wanting to stop so you can cum. You begin to squirm before your body tenses and you cum again. König opens his mouth and moves his face back and forth, drinking you in. He laps at your dripping cunt like a thirsty dog, burying his face into you. He thinks he’s falling in love.
His face and your thighs are shiny and dripping wet. The bed sheets and comforter are completely soaked with your squirt. He can not believe he found you. He’s never had a woman squirt before, let alone one to ruin the bed with. He is nowhere near done with you. He wants to know all the ways he can make you squirt.
Once he pulls away, he reaches over to the bedside table and grabs the condom he put in his wallet, anticipating this night with you. You watch him slip the condom down over his cock and get back between your legs. He slaps his cock on your pussy, rubbing your clit with the head.
“Are you ready, Liebling?” His eyes look over your body. You’re stunning. Your body is like a work of art.
“Yeah,” you’re still trying to catch your breath after everything that just happened. Your gentle gaze looking up at him.
His large hands grasp your thighs and gently squeeze your soft flesh. He moves your legs back and apart. Moving his hips, he lines himself up with your entrance and pushes forward slightly. His eyes move from watching him penetrate you to watching your face contort with pleasure.
“Oh god,” you moan out as you feel your small cunt being stretched like never before. “Fuck me.”
The eagerness of you voice sends chills down his spine as he begins to fuck you hard. The fat tip of his dick rubbing back and forth over your g spot, König moving his thumb to gently rub over your clit in small circles. He feels how tight you’re squeezing him and after all of the excitement of watching you squirt; he has to mentally tell himself to not cum yet. He wants to trigger the water works with his thick cock.
König didn’t go home that night. Neither of you really even got any sleep, he lost count on how many times he made you orgasm; giving him the biggest ego. Around 4 am you both end up sleeping on the floor because the bed is just too soaked.
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girlokwhatever · 8 hours
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can you do paige being jelly of you and kks rls (you and kk are just friends but paige claims “yall r too close”)
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⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡.。.:*✧ focus on me,,
paige bueckers x fem!reader
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2 WEEKS AGO:
paige was just getting back from personal training, walking through the team’s dorm door and letting her shoes slide off her feet. she didn’t see anyone, but she heard the sound of kk’s screaming laughter. paige figured she needed to relax a bit, so she went to drop her bags off in her room and then go see what kk was up to.
as she walked closer to her teammates door, she heard the sweet sound of your voice. in any other situation it would’ve soothed paige, but here—coming from kk’s room, it didn’t.
your girlfriend pushed the door open gently, a light frown on her face upon observing you and kk. the two of you were laying on kk’s bed, phone screen in front of you both.
“hey guys.” your giggles ceased and your head turned, only to be greeted with paige’s unamused expression.
“oh! hi baby,”
“i thought you said you were working today?” you’re sitting straight now, looking up at paige from your position next to kk. your friend stays silent, pushing her hand over the phone’s microphone to muffle your conversation. she could sense the tension coming from paige and wasn’t really sure where this was going.
“they let me off early, really slow day.” you explain to your girlfriend, slightly shocked at the way she’s acting. you didn’t think on it too much though, assuming she was just fatigued.
“why didn’t you tell me?”
“you were busy paige.”
it aggravates paige that you didn’t tell her, instead opting to spend your rare free time with kk. and paige wouldn’t say it out loud, but she was also jealous that you and kk went live without her. everyone said that the three of you were a trio.
“you guys went live without me?”
“it’s not a big deal, babe. we do all the time.”
6 DAYS AGO:
the team was on a ‘recreational team bonding field trip’ and everyone insisted you join, especially kk. you and the freshman had grown quite fond of each other, feeding off the other’s energy and enthusiasm. you were definitely the lives of the party.
you had been spending a lot of time with kk actually, which was starting to get to paige. she’d suggest a fun activity for the two of you to do, and you were always saying “kk should come too!”
paige really enjoyed having you here today, loving and admiring the way you fit in so perfectly with all her friends. even on the way here you were cracking jokes and making everyone laugh. she was thankful to have you, grateful for how receptive everyone is to having you around.
everyone had been hiking up the mountain for about an hour and a half, finally making it to the top. you rejoiced, high-fiving everyone around you. you motivated everyone undoubtedly. it made paige want to kiss you and she was about to— until kk jogged up to the two of you and pulled you away.
it was time to take the zip line down to the bottom of the mountain, something everyone was excited about (really their only good reason to come). everyone needed to pick a partner and paige didn’t even think twice about knowing you were hers. you were her girlfriend for christsake, she didn’t need to call dibs on you.
apparently she did though, cause kk claimed you as her partner instead. what upset paige the most was that you didn’t even say no. never saying “i want to be paige’s partner.”
that’s how paige ended up with nika, the two of them going last.
“if looks could kill..”
“what?” nika’s words drew paige out of her daydream, grounding her back in this moment she wishes wasn’t even happening.
“i saw the look you gave kk. why didn’t you say something?”
it was a good question really. why didn’t she?
suddenly paige remembers your and kk’s shared screams of joy going down the zip line. she remembers the way kk interlocked your hands and threw them up in the air like she was on a rollercoaster. like kk was your girlfriend.
“doesn’t matter. my girlfriend seemed to enjoy herself with another girl.”
“oh paige, don’t be like that. that’s just how kk is.”
when nika and paige made it to the bottom of the zip line it felt like five years had passed. you and kk had been the first to go, and paige had to wait ten minutes for everyone else to be done. upon making it back to ground, paige noticed ashlynn taking a picture of you and kk.
kk’s arm was around your shoulders as she leaned into you, a big stupid grin on her face. you were smiling too, not minding kk’s close proximity.
after being unclipped from the line paige walked towards you, trying to let her frustrations drain away so she could just enjoy the day.
“baby,”
“hold on- what kk?”
2 DAYS AGO:
the team had been back from practice for a few hours now, everyone just relaxing and doing their own thing. paige really wanted to take this reprieve to spend alone time with you, becoming increasingly aware that you hardly ever got a moment to yourselves.
but of course, her plans changed when kk asked to play video games with you at your apartment. you said yes, now sitting on your couch with kk playing COD while paige sulked in another room. you hadn’t realized she was sulking, just thinking she was tired and went to take a nap.
about an hour into playing, your girlfriend came padding out of your bedroom and into the living area. you were too distracted and paige was too childish, quickly unplugging the power cord to the TV without either you or kk noticing.
“NOOOO!”
“WHAT HAPPENED??”
“bro your tv is broken,”
“you probably broke it-“
paige’s voice cut through the air like a knife, bringing both you and kk back into reality. you’re both staring at her wide-eyed with mouths agape.
“well, looks like you gotta go home kk, playing video games there.” paige is fake shrugging like she too is disappointed in the circumstances. you’re squinting and suspecting of her tone but it quickly vanishes.
“TRUE, we can go to the dorms and play girl boo!”
paige’s shoulders shrink, watching as you gather your shoes and keys. her plan backfired on her almost instantly.
“maybe we can just stay here babe? i can help you fix the tv,”
“i’ll fix it later p. you comin?”
CURRENT DAY:
paige was beyond excited. was.
she had gone out of her way to plan a nice dinner for you, trying to cook up something nice. she had even printed out a recipe and followed it step-by-step. she went to the store to get you flowers, bought a new dvd to add to your collection, and even wrote you a little love letter.
you told her you’d be getting off by 5:30. it was now 6:43. she was certain the food was cold and stale by now, not worth eating. she had to blow out the candles she lit at the table because the wax started dripping onto the wooden surface. paige was almost finished with her homemade cocktails she learned how to make just for tonight when you walked through the door. finally.
“hey baby!” you hadn’t looked up yet, kicking off your shoes and shrugging your jacket down your shoulders.
“where’ve you been?”
you finally looked up, letting your surroundings sink in along with the instant guilt. you had no idea she was planning anything.
“i was doing this thing with kk-“
at the mention of her friend’s name again paige aggressively pushed her drink away and stormed off. you stood there dumbfounded for a second before quickly following behind her, having to jog to keep up with her pace.
“paige? what’s wrong?”
“what’s wrong?! i think if you mention kk one more time im going to lose my mind. all you do is hang out with her. like i’m not even here. y’know, i planned this whole night because i wanted to spend quality time with you. but instead of wanting to come home to me, you go to kk?!”
“paige i didn’t know you-“
“and y’know what?! i’m tired of you prioritizing her. i’m your girlfriend. not kk. me! you’re too close with her..” she’s silent for a moment and you let her words linger in the air. “jus want you to focus on me.”
her head is hung low and saying it out loud almost makes her feel selfish. but you understand her, you consider her words and realize she’s right.
you have been spending a lot of time with kk. and in turn, you sacrificed precious time with paige to do so. it crushes you now that you know, and you suddenly wish you could go back and time. a few stray tears roll down your girlfriend’s face, landing on her favorite button up. she picked it for this special occasion. just for you.
you peak your head out to the kitchen, soaking in the decorations and the ghost of paige’s effort to make this night amazing for you. a frown settles deep on your features when you realize you’re ruining this night for her.
“paige, i love you so much. unbelievably so. i’m so sorry, please let me make it up to you while we enjoy the meal you made.” you’re almost pleading with her, wiping her few tears away and cradling her fragility. she nods, a weak smile adorning her face as she looks at you.
the dinner had been amazing and paige swears you told her that about a million different times. she liked it though. your reassurance and affirmations let her know that you cared about her more than anything else.
“i love you paigey.”
“not kk?”
“not kk.”
“good, i love you too”
“wait- you were just jealous-“
“shut up.”
┊┊❁ཻུ۪۪♡ ͎. 。˚ °. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄
YALLLLLLL
idk 😋
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yauchfilms · 2 days
Note
anything with logan and being back in florida ? would appreciate!!! 🫶🏻🫶🏻
sunburn ✢ logan sargeant (18+)
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pairing: logan sargeant x reader (established relationship)
warnings: smut, porn with plot (lots of exposition sorry i got carried away), one use of y/n, soft dom!logan, switchy!reader, fingering, edging, unprotected p in v, lots of pet names, begging, lots and lots of praise, body part worship if you squint, cursing, logan’s a simp, reader is implied floridian, implied childhood friends to lovers, sunburns, fluffy intimacy
summary: it’s been too long since y/n has been back in the states and she is NOT used to the florida sun like she used to be, but don’t worry, logan knows how to take care of her.
word count: 3.5k
author's note: sorry i got soooo carried away with this i don’t know what came over me. this was NOT supposed to be smut but im just a florida girl crushing on a florida boy here y’all lmao. i’m down so bad for this man that i just went kinda crazy. also this was my first time writing smut so pls bare with me. this is inspired by my friend (and fellow logan girly) who just acquired a nasty sunburn lmaoooo. enjoy!!!!
it had been quite a while since you and logan had been back home together. well, not really, but the weather was typically a lot nicer in the winter months than in the spring and summer, and you were not used to it. after you and logan moved to london together full-time, you rarely saw the sun anymore, and your matching pale complexions certainly reflected that sentiment. 
obviously, the miami race weekend was a big deal for the whole sargeant camp. aunts, uncles, cousins, childhood friends, and grandparents would be making their short trip down i-95 to see logan race, but it also meant that you and logan could spend a week together at home, in the sun, in each other’s company. a free vacation of sorts. logan’s parents were busy getting the house ready for the hordes of guests that were to soon occupy the space, so you and logan were more than happy to get out of their hair and into the back yard for some relaxation. 
it was sunday, and you found yourself lounging out on the dock, lost in a romance novel that was probably making you lose brain cells, when you heard a familiar voice calling out to you.
“y/n!”, logan yelled from where him and coco were playing on the grass. “have you been applying sunscreen?” 
you put your book down, letting out a small huff at his question. logan often took a rather paternal role over you, not in a weird or demeaning way, but rather in the sense that he always has your best interest at heart. and you loved that about him, loved how he always wanted to take care of you without being asked. 
you looked down over the chaise longue you were laid out on, thinking there was a bottle of SPF next to your drink, but all that was there was the can of sparkling water you had been nursing. 
“don’t have any; i’ll be okay!” you called back, hoping that would be the end of it.
“you want me to bring you some? it’s no problem,” logan replied, positioning himself to get up off the ground.
“don’t worry about it; i’m coming inside soon anyways!” you half-lied, knowing that logan usually respected your wishes when it came to things like that. you knew you weren’t necessarily telling him the truth, but he knew you and your stubbornness, and he knew it was not his business to try to fix it. 
another few hours had passed, and logan and the dog had long gone inside to find something else to do. you had stayed out, vowing to finish your book in one sitting. as you closed it, you stood up from the lounger, grabbing your long-abandoned can from the ground, wrapping yourself in the towel that you had been laying on, making your way back into the comfort of the house – and the air conditioning.
walking in through the kitchen, you pass logan’s mom, who was cooking dinner for the family. 
“oh sweetie, looks like you got some color on you!” she exclaims, chopping up some vegetables. 
“yeah, it’s been a minute since i’ve had time to tan! i missed the florida sunshine too much.”
“well, logan’s in his room, and dinner’s in about an hour if you’d like to freshen up,”  mrs. sargeant said sweetly, motioning towards the hallway towards logan’s room.
upon your arrival, logan moved his laptop out of his lap and onto the bed next to him. you took the towel off your shoulders, leaving you in just your bikini, when logan’s eyes went wide with shock.
“what, it’s not like you haven’t seen me in a bikini before?” you quipped, reacting to his sudden change of expression. 
“y/n, you are bright red, like ferrari red,” logan replied, serious as a heart attack. you make your way to the vanity over his dresser, taking in your current state. logan was right. you were burnt. 
“what the fuck dude, i swear i wasn’t out there that long,” you snapped, poking and prodding yourself in the mirror, letting out a wince when you stumbled over a particularly sensitive area.
logan gets off his spot on the bed, making his way towards you, joining you in front of the mirror. his hands immediately fall to your hips out of instinct, but he makes sure not to grab too tightly due to your new look.
“baby,” he says, placing his chin onto your shoulder. you let out another wince, reacting to his touch. “i told you to wear sunscreen. now look at you, my little lobster…”
“this isn’t funny,” you pout, and he leans forward to place a chaste kiss on your lips. you spin around in his arms, now facing him face-to-face rather than through the mirror. 
“stop pouting baby, and go hop in the shower, please. the sooner you get some cold water on you, the better you’ll feel. i can feel the heat radiating off you from here,” logan said with a giggle. his hands linger around your ass, and he gives a slight smack to send you on your way, which elicits a shrill yelp from you due to the sensitivity of the area. 
“are you at least going to join me?” you question as you make your way to his en suite, stopping in the door frame with your arms crossed across your chest. logan lets out another giggle.
“and listen to you whine the whole time? no thanks, plus i showered like an hour ago,” he replies, which garners a predictable whine from you.  “if you make it quick, i might have something that can help you,” he adds, and you turn on your heel into the bathroom, shutting the door with a slam. 
and he was right; the shower hurt like hell, but you know that had he been there, you wouldn’t have been able to properly soak in the cold water, so you silently curse him for being right. 
you walk back into logan’s room, wrapped in your towel, when you see him sitting on the bed, scrolling mindlessly on his phone. he hears you approach, putting his phone down and grabbing the clear bottle off the bed next to him. 
“i found you aloe; well, my mom did. she said your burn is one of the worst she’s seen,” logan said, presenting the bottle to you like it was a participation trophy. 
“is that supposed to make me feel better or worse, logie?” you questioned, feigning offence from his comment. 
“well, the comment probably won’t, but hopefully the aloe does,” he replied. “c’mere, baby,” he cooed, his arms outstretched, welcoming you into his arms. you take your spot on his lap, legs draped over his thigh, wrapping your arms around his neck to keep you in place. logan places a kiss to the bridge of your nose, and along your cheeks, leaning in to admire the newly-formed freckles that were threatening to peak out from underneath the harsh redness of your skin. 
“your freckles are back; reminds me of when we were little, trying to catch fish with my dad in the backyard. you were so bad at it; still are to be honest, but it’s okay because you still look cute trying to bait a hook,” he laughs, his breath giving a cooling sensation to your cheeks, and you wish he would keep talking just to feel his breath against your skin. 
“logan, baby, the aloe?” you suggest, knowing that the time he’s wasting is killing you. all you crave is the feeling of the lotion on you, and his hands being the ones to apply it. 
“sorry, didn’t mean to get sentimental on you, just being here with you makes me think about stuff like that. i sometimes wish we could go back…” logan trails off, and you know what he’s thinking about. he often thinks about the memories of you growing up, how much he missed you when he moved away to the uk, and what it meant to get you back. you like to think of those moments too, sometimes, but he often gets in his head about it. 
“i know,” you coo, lifting a hand up to card through the longer hair on the back of his neck, as a way to soothe him.
he lifts the bottle of aloe up towards you. 
“may i?” he asks, cocking an eyebrow up in an inquisitive way.
“of course you may. how do you want me?” you ask, a mischievous look in your eye.
“do not say it like that, you minx,” logan shot back, your innuendo catching him by surprise. 
“keep talking crazy like that, and we might have a problem,” he snapped, although with no actual malice behind it. “you can lay on your tummy first, though, and i’ll go from there, if that’s okay,” he said, his expression softening as he looked at you. 
you climb out of his lap and onto your stomach on the bed next to him, and he straddles your back to get the proper angle. 
“this okay?” he asks, tugging slightly at the towel that is still loosely wrapped around your back. 
“log, you’ve seen me naked countless times; of course it’s okay,” you quip, turning your head so he can see the side of your face. he leans down, planting a sloppy kiss to your cheek, blowing a raspberry there. this elicits a giggle from you, wriggling underneath him. 
logan drags the towel down your body slowly, his fingers barely grazing your warm, sensitive skin, standing up on his knees to pull it out from under you. 
“i know we aren’t having sex or anything, but could you at least take your shirt off or something? this feels too clinical,” you say, causing logan to burst out laughing above you.
“you are not a real person, i swear to god,” he quips, pulling his shirt over his head in one quick motion. “is that better, princess?” he says sarcastically, using the nickname he only gives you when you’re acting like a handful. 
between your fits of giggles, you let out a “mhm” that signals to logan that he is free to proceed. this evokes an eye roll from logan that you catch out of the corner of your eye. 
his attitude doesn’t last long, however, because before you can protest, his lips find your shoulder blade, peppering kisses along the top of your back, feeling his stubble graze across your skin. it burns, but feels so good at the same time.
“so sweet for me, logie,” you groan, melting into his touch. he reaches for your hair, still damp from the shower, to move it out of his way, as he makes his way across the plane of your body.  
all he can manage is a drawn out “hmmmmm” as he feels the warmth of your skin along his cheek. 
he pulls away suddenly, and you whimper at the loss of contact from him. 
“i know, i know,” he cooes, and you hear the bottle of lotion being opened just out of your periphery. 
his hands make contact with your skin again, feeling the sensation of the cool liquid as he massages it in. his strong hands make their way up and down your back, causing you to arch only slightly, if it wasn’t for him sitting squarely on your ass. 
“you’re killing me, logan,” you half-whisper, his actions genuinely taking your ability to speak at a regular volume, the intimacy of it all being just a little too much for you. 
“feels good, huh?” he asks, and although you can’t see it, you can tell that he’s cocked his eyebrow at you, and you’re surprised he’s been able to behave himself this long. 
his hands work swiftly, massaging the liquid in with long, deft fingers, the sensation driving you crazy.
“logan, i want you, please,” you whine, looking up over your shoulder to meet his gaze, your eyes softening in an almost begging manor. 
“i thought you said we weren’t–” 
“i lied. i’m a liar. i need you right now,” you beg, as logan stands back up on his knees to allow you to roll over underneath him, him now settled on your thighs.
“fuck, baby, i can’t say no to you,” he huffs, not sure exactly how to make the next move. he looks down at you splayed out in front of him, taking in the sight before him. a hand reaches down to caress down your chest, fingers grazing slightly over your nipple, causing your breath to hitch. 
“we have to make it quick, okay? can you be good for me?” he asks, his hand lingering on your left breast. 
you let out a whimper, shaking your head slightly.
“words, baby,” he sighs, his fingers massaging into the tissue of your chest. 
“yes, i’ll do whatever you want,” you whisper, unable to find your voice with how turned on you were. 
“that’s my pretty girl,” logan cooes, leaning down to place a kiss on your lips, adjusting himself so he’s slotted between your legs. the kiss deepens, his tongue finding its way into your mouth, as he swallows your muffled moans, trying to avoid the awkward conversation with his mom later. 
“gotta be quiet, baby,” he whispers, his hand running up and down your side, the warmth of his hand searing your sensitive skin.
“god, i feel like we’re in high school again,” you say, rolling your eyes at him.
“except i wasn’t nearly as good then as i am now, though,” he smirks, diving down to leave a trail of kisses from the corner of your mouth to the base of your neck, softly nibbling on your pulse point. 
“are you gonna prove it?” you ask, trying to rile him up.
this question evokes something in him, his breath against your skin coming hot and sudden, and you could feel the deep exhale from his nose.
leaning up to your ear, he whispers, “you are such a brat.”
the sensation from the whisper mixed with the sting of his words sends a shock straight to your core. he’s not always the best at dirty talk, but he still somehow knows exactly what to say and when to say it. 
“touch me, logan,” you manage to squeak out, your breath growing heavier the more you took in his words, and he was eager to oblige.
with that, the hand that found comfort on your hip trailed its way down between your bodies, grazing the softness of your stomach, fingers oh-so-gently teasing your folds. 
“so wet, huh? so worked up for me? you drive me so fucking crazy, you know that?” he growls, his voice rasping as he begins rubbing small circles against your clit with his thumb. “one or two, baby?” he asks, and you know exactly what he means. 
“two, please”, you whine into his mouth, body arching up into him before he even has the chance to touch you properly. 
“good girl, take it so well,” he groans, sliding two fingers into your cunt, almost too slowly. his voice is almost unrecognizable, the threat of being too loud taking over. his thumb continues its pattern on your clit.
you feel the tension building as he fucks his hand in and out of you, but not before you feel him slowing his pace down.
“i know you wanna come now baby, but we don’t have long. i’m gonna stop, and we can come together, okay?”, he half-whispers. 
his hand moves from its spot between your thighs back up toward your lips, as he rests his fingers on your bottom lip, cocking his eyebrow at you. 
“o-okay,” you squeak out, and with that, his fingers push past your lips, urging you to suck them clean, and you oblige, swirling your tongue around his digits, tasting yourself on his fingers. 
your hands trail down between you two, your fingers dipping underneath his shorts and boxers, toying with the waistband. 
logan removes his fingers from your mouth, opting to move back to your jawline, planting lingering kisses along the bone.
“quit teasing, baby, want you on top. let me see those pretty tits of yours, yeah?”, he smirks, knowing that him complimenting your body drives you crazy in the best way. 
you oblige with a searing kiss to his lips, opting to pull his shorts down in one motion, cock bobbing free and slapping across his stomach. he reaches down to finish taking them off, throwing them on the floor with your long-abandoned towel. 
he rolls you both over with ease, you now on top. your fingertips graze his chest, down to his abs, grabbing his cock and giving it a few quick pumps to make sure he’s ready. 
“ready, log?” you ask, your hands now on either side of his head, his blue eyes sparkling back up at you, your hips and ass now up in the air waiting for his cue. 
he leans up to chase your lips, trying to kiss you, just out of his reach. 
“please, baby, i can’t take it much more,” he begs, using his arms to pull you down to him, sinking down on him, and meeting his lips with yours. now it’s his turn to moan into your mouth. 
“fuuuuuck,” is all he’s able to get out, his hands finding their way to your hips, trying to help you relieve the lack of sensation. Your hips roll for the first time over him, and his hips immediately buck up into you.
“patience, baby. i thought i was the desperate one?” your words go right to his cock, making him buck up once again, making you speed up your motions. you feel the effects of his desperation on your body, the coil in your stomach winding tighter with every bounce on his cock.
“fuck, you’re close, baby; so am i,” logan pants, the physicality of it all catching up to him. he knows your body so well; he can always tell when you’re about to come. 
with his observation, you lean back with your hands behind you on his thighs, your hips continuing to roll against his body, eliciting a low, grumbling moan from logan. he loved you like that, all cock-drunk and lazy on top of him. it also meant that he had a perfect view of your tits, both his hands reaching to grab at them as he continued fucking up into you. 
“these are so fucking perfect. all mine. i can’t believe you’re all mine, baby,” logan pants, both of your movements becoming lazier, as he rolls your nipples in between his fingers, feeling your already-tight walls close in on his cock.
you can feel your orgasm quickly approaching with his presence on your tits, and you know that he isn’t going to last long, either. you lean forward, diminishing the space between you two, giving logan the opportunity to bear hug you. his thrusts up into you send you over the edge, your orgasm ripping through you, causing you to let out a muffled moan onto his right pec. your vision goes slightly blurry for a second until you hear a grunted “fuck, baby”, followed by the feeling of logan’s hips sputtering underneath you. he comes shortly after you, spilling into you. 
You collapse onto his chest, your highs riding out together. he doesn’t loosen his grip around your back, planting a sweet kiss to the top of your forehead, pulling out as you lay pitifully on his chest.
“so good for me, baby, so sweet. fuck, i’m so lucky,” he whispers, rubbing your back where, just a few minutes earlier, he was applying aloe lotion. he rolls you both over so that you’re now facing each other on your sides. 
you reach a hand up to caress his face, feeling the stubble from a week’s worth of no races, the hair rough against your smooth palm. 
“logie, you fucked me so good i almost forgot about this damn sunburn,” you giggled, “but now we’re done and it just hurts again!”
“guess that means i’ll just have to fuck you again,” logan smirked, burying his head into the crook of your neck, eliciting more giggles from you. you begin to hook your leg over his thigh, bringing you even closer, pulling him in for a passionate kiss. you almost begin the cycle over again until you hear a knock on the door that has you both frozen in your tracks. 
“dinner!” you hear his mom cheer from the other side of the door, and then her footsteps clearly walking back down the hall towards the kitchen. 
“guess not,” you teased, eliciting an eye roll from logan, who quickly gets up to pull you into the bathroom to get cleaned up. 
249 notes · View notes
ilwonuu · 3 days
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I just had a thought, like this could go for any svt member, but like what if your a dancer or idol, practicing and you fall alseep on the floor cus ur tired. Then the member comes into the room to find u, ends up seeing your alseep and puts his jacket on you or like lays down on the floor with you. And later the rest of the members look for him, and see you and him just cuddling and being a ball of cuteness and take a pic 😭😭. Ok rereading that I realize how oddly specific it was but I’m just really enjoying ur work, not sure if it make sense but you get my vibe 🌝❤️
anon,,,ty for this i love it sm<3 i hope this is what u meant lmk what u think. thank u for requesting 🥹 for u i choose nonie ♡︎
𝗌𝖺𝗍𝗎𝗋𝗇
𖣘.*↯ 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗌𝗈𝗅 𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗇𝗈𝗇 𝖼𝗁𝗐𝖾
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𖤐 𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀- 𝖾𝗌𝗍𝖺𝖻𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝗋𝖾𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉, 𝗂𝖽𝗈𝗅𝖻𝖿!𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗇𝗈𝗇 𝗑 𝖿𝖾𝗆 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋
𖤐 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌- 𝗌𝗂𝖼𝗄𝖾𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿, 𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗇𝗈𝗇 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝖾𝗌 𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽, 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗐𝗈 𝗌𝗅𝖾𝖾𝗉 𝗈𝗇 𝗉𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝖿𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗋, 𝗅𝗆𝗄 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖾𝗅𝗌𝖾<𝟥
𖤐 𝖺/𝗇- 𝗁𝗂 𝗆𝗅𝗌<𝟥 𝗂 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾𝖽 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝖼 𝗂 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗇𝗈𝗇 𝗂𝗆 𝗌𝗈 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗁𝗂𝗆,,,𝗉𝗅𝗌 𝗌𝖾𝗇𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗇𝗈𝗇 𝗋𝖾𝗊𝗌 <𝟥
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you had to take a break from dancing. you drank some water as you finally sat against the hardwood floor. you really didn’t mean to fall asleep but how could you not fall asleep after all that hard work. you were extremely exhausted. your boyfriend, vernon was on his way to see you after he had finished his dance practice.
you were a dancer for seventeen and helped out with some of the choreos so of course your boyfriend would go to you if he needed.he made his way to the practice room you were in.
he saw you laying on the floor through the small window of the door. he opened the door softly trying to be as quiet as possible. he makes his way over to you with a soft smile. he takes his jacket off placing it over you gently. he places a couple soft kisses on your head, careful to not wake you up. he smiles to himself as he lays next to you. he cuddles you softly as he closes his eyes.
he loves the way your body raises and falls with your breathing. he loves how warm you are close to him. he loves your presence so he easily falls asleep with you. the other members grow curious at to where vernon has left to. they wander through the few practices rooms. seungkwan quickly finds the two up you cuddled up on the floor. you and vernon’s soft sleep sounds filling the room. seungkwan whispers shouts to the other boys as to where your location is.
“they’re in here! he smiles as he watches the boys shuffle in as quietly as they can. “awww.” seokmin groans at the cuteness of the situation.
“they’re always glued to each other.” seungcheol smiles. jeonghan opens his phone taking a couple photos. vernon stirs in his sleep at the sound of talking. “go go go!” mingyu hushes them as they leave the room quickly. jeonghan sends the photos to the both of you with a smirk.
“they’re so cute it’s disgusting.” he says after turning off his phone.
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engie-ivy · 3 days
Text
(Fic I didn't know I wanted to write! So thank you for the inspiration, @wolfstarmicrofic!)
28th: Dogwalker AU
673 words
Some good old mutual pining between a dogwalker and his client!
Date My Hooman?
“Has he been a good boy?” Sirius is sitting on his knees, scratching Padfoot’s ears (and making quite the sight while doing so).
Remus crosses his arms over his chest. “Now you're just fishing for compliments. You know damn well Padfoot’s always a good boy.”
Sirius grins up at him. “Guilty as charged.” He looks back at Padfoot who's thoroughly enjoying his ear scratches. “I know my dog is great, but I love hearing other people tell me that my dog is great also.”
“Right you are,” Remus chuckles. “How was your day at the office?”
“Dreadfully dull,” Sirius replies instantly. “Really, Remus, you made some good career choices that you now get to play with dogs all day.”
“Well, I don't get to live in a house like that.” Remus nods towards Sirius’ three-story mansion with the sprawling garden around it.
Sirius winks at him as he gets up to his feet. “Maybe if you play your cards right.”
Remus can feel his cheeks heating up.
Before, he was just amused by Sirius’ flirtatious banter, and he actually gave it as good as he got. But now, he suddenly feels flustered, at a loss for words, and wholly out of his depth whenever Sirius makes a comment like that.
After long conversations, with Sirius being the last stop on Remus’ afternoon route, and being subjected to Sirius’ sharp mind and disarming sense of humour, things have changed for Remus.
He used to think that the best part of his day would always be seeing the excitement on a dog’s face when he reaches out to unclip their leash to let them run around the park and play with their friends, but now, it's like nothing compares to seeing the excitement on Sirius’ face at the end of the day as he crouches down to greet his beloved dog after long hours the office. Remus’ days have started to revolve around the moments he brings Padfoot home, and it's becoming A Problem.
“And that's not even taking into account cold, rain, new regulations, demanding clients,” Remus continues, as if he didn't hear Sirius’ last comment.
Then Remus’ own dog, Moony, dashes forward and starts licking a tail-wagging Padfoot’s face, like he knows he has to say goodbye to his friend for now, and Remus’ heart just melts. “Oh, who am I kidding? It's bloody amazing.”
When the dogs have said their goodbyes, it's time for their owners to do so as well.
“See you tomorrow?” Sirius asks.
“Of course.”
“Great.” Sirius beams at him. “Looking forward to it.”
Remus’ heart skips a beat at those words. Yes, definitely A Problem.
Sirius has given Remus the key to the annex besides the main house, so he can pick up Padfoot, take him for a long walk, and then, by the time they return, Sirius will be back from the office and usually already waiting on them.
Sirius has actually turned the annex into a space especially for Padfoot, with water and food, several dog beds, toys, and a dog door, so he can go in and out to the yard whenever he wants. Sirius has even hung framed pictures on the walls of him and Padfoot together. A fuzzy feeling spreads across Remus’ chest upon seeing those pictures. A Problem indeed.
Padfoot immediately comes running, happily wagging his tail, brimming with excitement to go on his walk.
“Calm down, Pads,” Remus laughs, as the dog keeps circling his legs and jumping up and down. “Come on, I need to attach your leash, otherwise we can't go. Hey, what you've got there, buddy?” He spots a piece of paper neatly tucked underneath Padfoot’s collar and he plucks it out. As he unfolds it, he realizes it's a note.
And as he reads, a huge smile starts to spread across Remus’ face.
Dear Remus,
You might have noticed that my hooman has quite a crush on you.
Will you please save me from his desperate pining, and let my hooman take you out on a date?
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youronlydarlin · 2 days
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I know this is like short notice and you basically just posted the loser!simon Drabble but omg I need more. I’ve so far never seen a fic that lets Simon relax while you ride him or something. I’ve seen similar, but if you wouldn’t mind could you make a fic following Simon being super tired, and when he gets home you were a horny mess and then you make him a horny mess but he doesn’t have the energy to jerk it so you help him out. Fem reader please!! I really want him to use the rest of his energy to like play with your tits and then lay down.
Also you’re the only person I tolerate for the !! For smutty stuff. Usually it makes me cringe because it feels so childish. But you do it in a hot way. I think. Idk. I like the energy you put in ur writing if ykwim
warnings: fem! afab! reader, kinda subby Simon??, bro's down bad for you and thinks you're a goddess, relaxed Si :)
Wjahskshsjjs jus' somewhat lazy sex with the good ol' big british man. He's sure comes home tired and late. He has been for the past few days. It hadn't really affect you in a way that disrupted your everyday routine. But lately there's been a craving, an issue brought by your brain to your heart that lately it's been feeling... neglected. It starts as a distant feeling, an untouched part of your body that longs to be noticed. It's like chaising after a mysterious high while blinded, no sense of direction, and no chance of ever finding it. Leaving you feeling lonely and trapped, cold and empty. So, to put it simply. You're pent up. All hot and bothered and way too eager to slip your hands in your pants. Lucky for you though, your night won't end with just self satisfaction, because barging in through the door is your saviour, all tired eyes and gruff groans. Fuck. It's like you've pavlov'd yourself into getting incredibly horny at just the sight of your Si.
He on the other hand, feels like shit. Being away from you is more than enough torture, but having you pounce on him the moment he enters through the door is another new story on itself. He's neglected his baby :( his pretty girl. All quiet whimpers when you kiss him all over the neck "missed you s' much Si". Shit, he's already half chubbing in his pants at just hearing your tone. It's not long before he goes cum brained as well. Thinking with the wrong head and dry humping you in the hallway. You're squealin' n moanin' and oh shit he's going to cum. he's going to cum. he's going to cum. he's going to– You pull away. Now if it was any other day he would've shot you a glare. Maybe even disappointedly shaking his head. "Careful, love, you're playin' with fire.." he would've said, but right now he's red in the face, sweaty and desperate. Rolling his hips into nothing, hoping to get it to rub into you. Simon looks weak and he knows, slightly enjoys the power imbalance between you two because now you've grabbed him by the collar like a dog and dragged him towards the couch.
On his lap not a second later and you two are back to humping at each other through your clothes. He's tired. Limbs so heavy, bones weighed down with fatigue and he feels like he's already dreaming. You're like a wet dream that's come to life. There's just something about the way you look at him that makes it impossible to lay his eyes on anything else. Like a goddess on a thrown. That's how he sees you. Mighty and malevolent, feeling so small in your gaze but drinking it all in like a man parched, nothing can bring you down. Despite this– the tiredness of his bones– he wills his arms to move. To help you take off your top. It's intimate and it has his breath catching in his throat. He's seen you shirtless countless times before, but the thrill, the electrifying sparks it sends up his spine, it always feels new. Panting like a mutt he hasn't even noticed that he's already been let out of his pants, too busy admiring your chest. Reaching his hand out to toy with the soft peak, letting out an accidental whimper at the sudden contact of your hands with his hard cock. You shush him, remind him to relax, you can handle this, you promise with a kiss to the tip of his nose. And just like that he's sinking into the couch. Eyes closed in bliss and a handful of your mounds in his hands.
Heaven on earth. Blooming flowers in the harsh winter. Rain after months of drought. This is peace. This is pleasure. Simon's convinced that there's no earthly power greater than your hands, or your soft kisses. The gentle timbres of your voice. The way your pussy feels so hot and welcoming. So occupied and drunk off of your divinity that he hasn't had the time to prepare himself for your hot walls enveloping all of him inside. It makes his eyes shoot open and his back arch. You don't move, leaning down to put your mouth against his, swallowing every moan and whimper, and rewarding him with a teasing grind. He lays pliant soon enough, groaning at the way you bring yourself up till the tip kisses your entrance, before snapping your hips down to get him back inside. You ride him like you can't live without it. Sweet girl with an equally sweet pussy. He thought you well.
a/n: PHEW, I'm rusty as shits forgive me, I've got other stuff cooking in my drafts I swear I'm not lazy. This was kinda bad, written in two hours cause I sneaked this in between doing my papers. Hope y'all liked this, remember to always drink water n take your meds!!
Yours, truly,
–Dolly
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f0point5 · 3 days
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Jealous Emilia after they get together plss I am beggingggg cook this for us plssssss 🙏🙏🙏
Not me rewriting this no less than four times and still hating it 😂 but it’s not going to get any better haha. This was hard to write because I actually don’t see Emilia as the jealous type. I kind of drew off a lot of her known insecurities and alluded to her kind of struggling with the “wag” role a bit so it’s not just her reacting poorly to Max being fawned over by a girl because I don’t think that would be true to her character. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it!
✨Set in Jeddah 2024✨
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And I’m highly suspicious that everyone who sees you wants you
If there’s one thing to be said for the Jeddah paddock, it’s pretty at sunset. You watch people moving through the paddock bathed in golden light. The ground looks like the yellow brick road. Even though it’s getting cooler now as it gets closer to qualifying, you still choose to sit inside Red Bull hospitality. You’re also sitting inside because Max said he wanted to hang out before quail. Even though he’s spent the last forty-five minutes talking to one of the hospitality guests.
Amy, something or other. She races GT cars in some series you’ve never heard of. You’re not sure what connections got her the invite to the garage but Max had been herded away by one of the media reps to take pictures with her so she must be someone’s daughter. They seem to have hit it off, you note. He’s in full maxplaining mode, bending down to the line of his own hand as he illustrates what looks like an apex. Amy isn’t even watching his hands, she’s watching Max. Hazel eyes just sparkling as she memorises every inch of him. Yeah, you know that look well enough.
And it’s not that you mind. He likes to talk racing, he likes racers. It’s not like you know what it feels like to driver a car at top speed, and more importantly you don’t want to know. The hot laps with Max were more than enough. You can’t be everything to him and you don’t need to be. You tell yourself you don’t want to be. It’s good he has other people to talk to, because it’s not like you can ever really understand his competitive streak. The man who knows nothing except how to win will not always be able to relate to the girl who has always been too afraid to lose.
No, it’s not bothering you that Max is talking to her. It’s bothering you that she has the most obvious crush on him since…no, actually, this is the most obvious crush ever. She’s played with her hair so many times you just know karma is going to make her bald someday. You hope you’re there somehow.
“Hey,”
You jump at the sound of Checo’s voice. He sits down at the end of the table, brandishing Kitkat, which he slides over to you.
“Max has made a new friend,” he says, nodding in Max’s direction.
You tear open the wrapper with far too much aggression. “So I see,” you say, trying to sound nonchalant.
“She races, right?”
You nod, biting into the chocolate. “GT, apparently,”
“Lots in common,” Checo says with a wiggle of his eyebrows. “You have to watch your back,”
You know he’s joking. You know that in no universe are you in competition with her. And yet, his words sink under your skin under your blood is curdling at the sight of Max laughing at something Amy says.
“I don’t have to watch anything,” you say with shrug, turning towards Checo. “If she can take him she can have him.” You push your hair over one shoulder and run your tongue over your teeth.
“Whoa,” Checo chuckles, throwing his hands up like he’s being faced with a hungry lion. You suppose since he has a wife, he knows the look well enough. “I was joking.” When you don’t react, he shakes his head. “It’s Max,”
You know what he means. It’s Max, not Chuck Leclerc. It’s Max, not Danny Ric. It’s Max, not Checo. But it’s Max. You don’t have to worry he’s going to lose his mind over the actresses or supermodels, but he sure seems to be respectfully admiring his female alter ego.
It’s like he can sense you thinking about him, it’s uncanny, really. Out of the corner of your eye you can see him walking towards your table with Amy in tow.
Fake smile, it’s fine, she’s just a fan.
Max introduces you, and you smile and shake her hand and ask her if she having a nice day, because you’re Max’s girlfriend, so you owe it to him to be polite. She has no such obligation, although you might be imagining her flinch when Max says the word girlfriend.
“I think it’s the best day of my life,” she says in answer to your question. The telltale flicker of her eyes in Max’s direction as they sit down almost making you roll yours.
Max doesn’t notice, he’s more interested in taking your Kitkat out of your hand and taking a bite. He bites it so that all four sticks have the end missing and you wear you’ve never been so disgusted by this man. For a second, you think Amy can have him.
“Amy races GT cars, like the ones we tested in Portugal,” he says to you now, his hand disappearing under the table to rest on your thigh and trace circles with his thumb like it’s a habit. “We are just talking about setting up a test for her with Verstappen com,”
Oh, great. So not only is she utterly bewitched by the ocean eyes, you’re making her dreams come true. Fan-fucking-tastic.
“Ah,” is all you say, sharing a look with a smirking Checo.
“That would really be such a dream come true,” Amy says, and you almost laugh. “I’m a big fan of yours, I think it’s so cool that you’re involved with things outside formula one. You should come to a race sometime. I owe you paddock passes,”
You met him three hours ago, and he isn’t even the one who invited you. Do you owe him a blowjob as well, Amy?
“Yeah. Our schedule is a bit hectic but yeah, it would be good to fit that in soon,” Max says, turning to you. “Right?”
What am I? The secretary? Because in case you didn’t notice, she didn’t fucking invite me.
You just shrug.
“GT racing doesn’t exactly draw the influencer crowd,” you are definitely not imagining the way her eyes slide over to you before she looks back at Max to say, “it’s really good racing,”
You zone out right then and there. It’s like your brain short circuits from the energy it’s taking not to reach over, grab this girl by her stringy extensions, and rip. If she and Max keep talking, you don’t hear it. You don’t want to hear it. You notice Checo noticing your discomfort, even as he engages the other two in conversation. For all his quirks, Checo reads human behaviour much better than Max. Though you don’t need to be a body language expert to see how much this girl likes him.
She looking at him like she wants to eat him, hanging on unspoken words, fingers twitching on the table like she’s desperate to touch him. And he’s nodding along, because they’re so aligned that whatever she says he agrees with, and the maxplaining is one-handed now but no less enthusiastic, and you’re about to dig your nails into his skin because he is not going to have one hand almost up your skirt while another woman is flirting with him.
All these thoughts are interrupted by the appearance of one of the Red Bull media managers.
“Amy, we were hoping to get some pictures of you with the car, if you’re free?”
“Yeah, sure, one second,” she says, turning to Max. “Which way is the garage again?” Like she doesn’t have someone who clearly just came from the garage standing right next to her.
“Just through there, keep going straight,” Max says, pointing to the corridor with engineers walking in and out. You give the girl the benefit of the doubt that she’s not that stupid, just desperate.
Reluctantly, she gets to her feet. “So, I’ll give you a call to set up the test?”
“Yeah, sure,” Max says. “Or you can call Raymond. He’ll put your team in touch with the right people,”
“Okay, awesome,” she says, leaning down enough that you can see right down her shirt. “It was really great to meet you. And I meant it about the GT race,” and then, as if remembering she can’t be rude, she glances at Checo. “You guys, too,”
You wave her off, and your smile doesn’t even fall. Because it’s funny. It’s funny that a grown woman would behave like that in front of a man’s girlfriend. It’s funny that a woman gunning for sponsorship would behave like you does regular shifts in something called the “Champagne Room”.
And it’s absolutely hilarious that Max turns to you, without a care in the world, and says, “I’ve got such a headache. I stood up into the cupboard in the garage, it hurt so bad,”
You give him tight smile and pull out your phone to text Lily to see if she’s still with Alex or if she’s free for a catch up.
“What?” You hear Max say above you. You ignore him. “What? She the-“ You look up just in time to see that Checo is mouthing something to Max. “Jealous?”
“I’m not jealous,” you snap, leaning back in the your chair to glare at both of them. They give each a mocking grin. “Yeah, very funny,” this sets them off snickering like school kids. “Fuck both of you.”
You get up and stalk through the room and back towards the garage. You don’t even know what you’ll do when you get there since being Max’s girlfriend had put an end to you just wandering down the pitlane and allowed in any garage. Maybe you’ll just try and find GP. If Max doesn’t catch up to you first. You can hear him calling you.
“Leibling, wait,” he’s right behind you now, and you hear him almost stumbling as he leans forward to catch you by the wrist.
You shrug him off, but stop at the door to his driver room and push it open, jerking your head to order him inside. He may be a dick, but he still deserve for the whole team to know his business. He steps into the room, reaching for your waist but you move out of his way and leave him to close the door while you lean against the physio table on the other side of the room.
He sighs when he sees how you’re looking at him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to laugh. I mean, I did. Not at you. I didn’t think Checo was being serious,” he defends, and by the end of his sentence he’s fighting an incredulous smile and you squeeze the edge of the physio bench to stop yourself pulling your hair. Or his.
How can this guy understand complex tyre strategy but not basic human interaction?
“You didn’t think he was serious that I was annoyed by someone flirting with you in front of me?” You ask him, raising an eyebrow. “And that I wouldn’t be annoyed at you making fun of me for it?”
Max scoffs. “She wasn’t flirting with me,”
“Oh, please.” You let out a scoff of your own. “You didn’t notice me flirting with you for three years, do not pretend you’re an expert,”
“I noticed,” Max argues, “I just didn’t take it seriously,”
“Which is why you have no leg to stand on,”
“Right, because I was just supposed to believe that you suddenly-“
“It wasn’t exactly sudden-“
“For God’s sake,” Max groans, an expression of abject confusion twisting his face. “What are we even fighting about?”
“You enjoying Lella Lombardi over there slobber all over you, and enjoying it,” the exasperation gets worse when Max’s eyes widen like this is the first he’s hearing of this entire discussion.
“I’m- she- what?” He splutters, his head shaking in disbelief. “Is this one of those Tiktok pranks?”
“I get that she’s a pilot and that makes her automatically interesting, but until I hear otherwise, you’re still in a relationship,”
Max looks at you like you’ve grown a second head; shock, concern, and a good amount of unadulterated disgust. “You can’t think I was looking at her…like that,”
The way he says it, like he’s afraid to catch cooties, like it’s it’s inconceivable, like you didn’t still have bruises of your hips in the shape of his fingertips, takes all the fight out of you. Checo was right; it’s Max. It’s feels like someone’s let all the air out of a balloon. Your shoulders slump and you sigh.
“Because that would be crazy?” You lift yourself onto the physio bench as you speak. You’re not even really sure what you’re asking. “Max Verstappen, who likes only one thing on earth, that one thing being racing, attracted to another driver rather than his influencer accessory girlfriend?”
“Actually, I like two things,” he says with that boyish smirk that has been making your stomach do backflips for longer than you care to admit.
“Stop laughing at me,” you whine, fighting the urge to smile.
“I’m not. I’m sorry. I’m sorry that she upset you. I’m sorry that I upset you,” he says, taking a careful step closer to you, but he stops there. “Even if I don’t know what I did,”
He really has no idea. He is painfully, adorably clueless.
“Nothing,” you say, because you don’t know either. Sometimes it’s just inexplicably overwhelming being Max Verstappen’s girlfriend. “Just you being you, I guess,”
Max frowns at that. “I didn’t know being myself was so offensive,” he mumbles, and you instantly feel guilty. You of all people shouldn’t make him feel bad for how much space he takes up. You of all people know how much that bothers him.
“No, it’s not that. It’s not-“ you struggle for a way to explain it. Max takes the opportunity to cross the rest of the room and stand in front of you, his expression telling you he’s waiting for you to finish. “It’s not about who you are, but sometimes the way people act around you is just…and you’re so used to it, you don’t even…you just forget who you are sometimes, Max,”
He nods soberly. “Yeah. I do, and I’m sorry,” he says. He hooks his hands under your knees and pulls your legs apart and slots between them as he drags you to the edge of the bench so that you’re pressed against him, leaning back to look up at him. “But I never forget who you are, which is the most important bit,”
You can’t help but smile at him. He’s so simple. And not because he’s unintelligent, but because he’s guileless, because who he is has never scared him. He smiles back, and it’s unguarded and unbridled and you almost forgive that girl because you’ll be damned if you don’t have a crush on him, too.
“Was she really flirting with me?” He asks curiously, looking down as his hands find your and entwine your fingers.
“Oh, yeah,” you say, and he frowns, the wheels working in head as he tries to figure out how he didn’t notice. “Like me at your mum’s on Christmas Eve in 2020 level of obvious,”
“Well,” he says with a huff. “She just blew her chance at a test,”
“You don’t have to-“
“Wait, you were flirting with me at Christmas at my mum’s?”
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nhlclover · 9 hours
Text
so american | rutger mcgroarty
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word count: 1.35k
summary: on your way to the spend a weekend at the lake house with his teammates, you think about your future with rutger
warnings: british reader!, mentions of some other umich players (nick, duke brothers), brief sad thoughts
notes: based on 'so american' by olivia rodrigo. who am i if not writing fics based on songs.
The morning sun was beginning to rise, casting a golden hue on Rutger’s jeep that rumbled down the highway, its tires humming against the asphalt. Rutger sat in the driver's seat, his left hand holding a loose grip on the wheel, while you sat comfortably in the passenger seat, your feet were propped up on the dashboard. Rutger insisted you hit the road early to get to Jacob’s lake house around mid-morning. You felt that was a little too early, but he was excited to spend some spare time at the end of the semester with his friends and girlfriend, relaxing on the water. To make up for the early start time, Rutger bought you an iced coffee and promised that you could sleep in the car on the way over.
However, you couldn’t find yourself able to fall back asleep, instead taking over aux, the early morning air that flowed through the cracked windows helping to rejuvenate you. You tapped your fingers against the door handle, matching the beat of the song you’d selected. Dirt On My Boots by Jon Pardi filled the space, a contented smile gracing your lips.
“You’ve turned so American.” Rutger says, pulling your brain out of its brief daze.
“What?” You ask, your brows furrowing.
“I mean… look at you,” Rutger says with a chuckle. “You’re sitting there with your feet on the dash, you’re listening to country music, and you’re repping USA merch.”
Rutger motions to one of his hoodies that you’d thrown on as you were leaving. It was one given to him by the world juniors team he’d just played on, the letters U-S-A largely displayed on the chest.
You turned to him, adjusting your position in the seat. "Oh, please, don't say that. I'm still very much British, thank you very much." You retort, rejecting the idea that you’d become American in any way.
When you applied for an exchange to the University of Michigan, nothing could’ve prepared you for what would’ve come. On your first day of classes in the new country, you met Rutger. When a pretty girl sat next to him in one of his classes, he knew he had to talk to her. It didn’t take long for the two of you to develop feelings, Rutger soon being the ‘dreamy American’ that your friends had jokingly told you you’d fall for. And fall for him you did.
It was unfair of Rutger to make you feel this much when you both knew your future was uncertain.
“Hey, there is nothing wrong with being American.” Rutger points out.
“Yeah says the American.” You tease, rolling your eyes. “Thank god I’m going home soon. I need to reconnect with my roots if you think I’ve become American.”
Despite that being a joke, you couldn't shake the underlying sadness that gnawed at you. In just one week, you were leaving Michigan and returning to the UK. The thought of leaving Rutger and the life you’d established in Michigan weighed heavily on your heart. You knew that the bond you’d established with Rutger would withstand the miles and borders, however the prospect of being separated from him felt like tearing away a piece of you.
Rutger, sensing the shift in your demeanour as well as knowing that the inevitable move was weighing on you, reached over, taking your hand in his. His cold fingers lacing between yours quickly drew you back to reality.
“Hey,” He said softly. “Try not to think about it for now. Enjoy this weekend. We’ve got ages to figure it all out.”
You squeezed Rutger’s hand drawing comfort from his touch. With a gentle smile, you met his gaze, gratitude shining in your eyes. “Thank you, Rut.” You said softly.
Rutger returned your smile, turning his attention back to the road while keeping your hand in his. You continued the drive, doing your best to expel the thoughts of leaving from your mind.
Three hours later, Rutger pulled down a laneway that ultimately led to a large house on the water. Rutger’s teammates were already outside, eagerly awaiting your arrival.
“Hey guys!” Rutger called out as they stepped out of the car. Rutger’s teammates come over, greeting the two of them.
“This place is beautiful.” You comment, admiring the glimpse of the water you could see past the house.
“God, I will never get over the accent.” Nick said. Rutger shoved his shoulder while you playfully rolled your eyes.
You considered yourself lucky that you’d become friends with Rutger’s teammates. From the moment Rutger introduced you to them, they’d welcomed you with open arms. And as you spent more time with them, they weren’t just Rutger’s teammates, they were your friends as well.
“Alright, now go get changed, we’re hitting the water.” Luca said, ushering the two of you inside.
You headed up to your room, changed into the swimsuits you’d brought, and then headed downstairs to meet the rest of the group. The rest of the afternoon, you guys remained on the water. You all took turns on the tube, as well as some of the boys deciding to test their water skiing skills. When the sun began to descend towards the horizon, a golden hue being cast on the water, you headed back to the house to start dinner, which was a full team activity in which everyone was put to work doing something. You and Rutger were put in charge of the barbecue on the back patio, teaming up with Dylan and Tyler to grill the burgers and corn.
After dinner was demolished, you headed down to the fire pit, relaxing in the Adirondack chairs, talking about whatever came to mind. The flames cast flickering glows on everyone's faces as you discussed sports, your exams, and random childhood anecdotes whether relevant or not. After a while of drinking and chatting, both you and Rutger hit your limits and decide to call it a night.
The second that Rutger’s head hits the pillow, he’s out like a light, the day’s activities catching up with him. After a full day of tubing and waterskiing, combined with the drinks they’d consumed throughout the day, everyone was wiped. You, however, lay awake, the moonlight reflecting off the water and into the open window.
You traced your fingers through Rutger's hair, watching his bare chest rise and fall with steady breaths. With the tranquillity of the room enveloping you, you find yourself lost in a maze of thoughts, your mind swirling with visions of Rutger and the future they could share.
England was home. England was where you grew up, where your family and friends still resided. The thought of leaving them to be in North America made your heart tense. However, lying in the sheets and staring up at the ceiling, you couldn’t help but imagine moving to North America to be with Rutger. As you look over at him, still peacefully asleep, you imagine the prospect of uprooting your life for the American boy you fell in love with, of bridging the distance to be with Rutger.
Your thoughts continue to wander, picturing what could come of life in America with Rutger. Your mind entertains the notion of marriage, a distant yet possible milestone. That might be a little presumptuous of you, with your relationship still being in its infancy, but you practically couldn’t help it. The way he’d made you feel in the past 8 months was unlike anything you’d ever experienced before. Every moment with him felt like a moment torn from a romance book. Every moment with him was filled with laughter and stolen glances, creating an undeniable intimacy and connection.
You had to eventually force those thoughts out of your mind or else they would’ve kept you up all night. You rolled over, curling into Rutger’s side, and placing a delicate hand on his abs. Rutger stirred momentarily, instinctively wrapping his arm around you, drawing you closer. For now, you were content to simply be in this moment with him, cherishing the time you had left before you had to return home.
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zer0wzs · 17 hours
Text
IDOL [ ROCKSTAR!READER ]
[ gn!reader ] wherein jason becomes the rockstar's gf wc: 1432
AN :: there is an mcr and a fob reference here and both keep staring at me like a sore thumb
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For a split second, your mind wanders off. Suddenly, you’re thinking about how you didn’t have a clue as to how Jason puts up with you.
Between the late-night practices and you cooping yourself in the studio all day, You feel like you don’t give him enough of your time. Somehow, though, he pushes through, and he makes it work. He meets you halfway. He said he wouldn’t trade you and your dreams for the world. 
He’s funny. You love him.
Your mind snaps back to where you once were—on the stage. You feel a ringing in your head as you feel heat radiating off your body. The colorful lights blind you. Your shoulders hurt like hell from the weight of the guitar, and you feel winded as your lack of breath control and the previous song had knocked all the air out of you.
Despite all your qualms, though, you love doing this. The adrenaline courses through your blood and comes a rush you find for almost every night. 
“Alright! You guys having fun so far?” The crowd cheers, buzzing with energy and alcohol in their veins. 
You skim over through the faces in front of you. Some are ones you’ve seen before. They tend to attend your sets regularly, but many, though, were faces you didn’t recognize. 
Most of all, however, you see Jason with a friend by his side, quickly catching your brief gaze on him. He stands right beside the platform of the tiny performing venue. He gives you a nod with a straight face. 
You feel a surge of excitement just from his gaze on you, and you feel that energy course through your blood.
“Keep that energy up! We’re not finished just yet!” 
As your bandmates adjust their effects, retune their instruments, and do one last mixing of sound for your closer, you regain your sense of clarity amongst the smell of booze that lingers throughout the venue. You shortly shot Jason a smile and a nod before readjusting your mic and redirecting your focus to the crowd.
“Now, before we sign off, I wanna thank you all for seeing us tonight. I really hope you guys enjoyed our set.” The crowd quiets down, almost dead. You take it as a sign to get it going again. “But come on now—let’s get this on!”
You breathe in once, breathe once out. It’s the first time you’re debuting this song. You rehearsed for this, but you doubt it's enough. You're scared you’ll blank out in the middle of the song, then fill it with random riffs. You’re scared you’ll sing the demo version and forget your final. You’re scared you might just not do the song any justice.
It’s the final song of the final night of your tour. You were not in the mood to mess this up.
Yet you pause for a moment. How much more in love could you be? Because suddenly, your thoughts are filled with him to calm yourself.
You catch him in the corner of your eyes once more, and you faintly hear a ‘Woo!’ from his direction.
Hell, this final song is about him.
He’s heard it, but he has no idea that you’re playing it tonight.
“Do you want to live forever?” You ask the crowd as the instruments start to set themselves up. “Sing this with me then.”
The song gradually swells, with the drums and bass starting out the song, looping the intro for a few rounds before the guitars join in. You harmonize with the main melody of the song, making up riffs as you go.
You feel yourself building the song, getting into the zone, and even doing a call and response because why the hell not? 
Before you let the performance take over, you quickly slip in a “This one’s for him. Hi, Jay.” You look in his direction and wave.
He’s awestruck, enchanted.
You see him quickly follow your gaze and smile. You seem to have caught him off-guard. You’re sure he’s picked up on the instruments and the vocals. He’s smart, far smarter than you. You’re sure he knows what you’re about to play.
The song ends as fast as it starts. You forget that sometimes when you perform on stage, it’s like you’re on autopilot. This was precisely that, but in the best way possible. You feel your body carry the work while your mind can sit back and watch the scene. For a split second, you even ran closer to the crowd during the final break to hold them, grab on your arm.
Everything had passed by so quickly that you couldn’t even register that it was over. Not until the crowd began to mellow down, but not without an applause.
“Thank you all so much!” You smiled and waved goodbye before your roadies rushed to the stage to gather your equipment.
You look over to the side to find Jason. He’s gone, but that’s more than alright. You figured he rushed to help with fixing the equipment, seeing his size and all. It’s something he often does when he watches your shows.
You feel your throat run dry. Maybe it’s time to steep some tea.
You high-five your bandmates before exiting the stage.
You didn’t quite grapple with the reality of just how exhausted and thirsty you were until you stepped off the stage. The world felt more than just shaky, so you found yourself leaning over some table in the back, chugging as much water as you could. The tea can wait.
You could faintly hear your bandmates hyping each other up and giving each other even more high fives. You stood by the sidelines, watching them and laughing at their antics. God knew you were too drained to even think about joining them.
Still, by the corner of your eye, you see a tall figure standing next to you. 
You’re always more than happy to talk to him.
“Well, hi, you.” You greeted, happy to see him.
In great contrast to your bubbly self, your boyfriend was more… frozen. He was silent, just looking at you with the biggest smile on his face. It wasn’t the first time he’d watched you play live, so you figured that the debut of the song was what made him so giddy at this moment.
As he stood there before you, you saw him in better lighting for the first time tonight after your show. You saw the sweat perspiring from his forehead to his neck and the sweat collected on his shirt. You basked in the light that framed his face from the side, but it accentuated those bright eyes of his. You take note of that smile that he’d been wearing even before your show. It only seemed to grow bigger as the night passed by. 
Fuck, he really is beautiful. You think you may not ever get enough of him.
Finally, after a few moments of radio silence, he spoke. “Shit, babe.”
“Uhuuuh?” You found yourself giggling at him.
He’s really cute. You’re in love with him.
“You guys were amazing. I can’t believe my partner is a rockstar.” Practically stars in his eyes.
“Why, thank you.” You felt yourself warming up to the hand that finds your cheek.
“You also played the song!” The hand holding your head up gently tenses with his excitement. You can’t help but laugh at him.
“Yes, we did.”
“Your closer’s always Saturday. Why’d you guys change it?”
That’s for many reasons. For one, you wanted this final night to be special. It was the last date of your best-selling tour yet. You had to do something else.
Then again, you could’ve chosen any other song that hasn’t or even rarely gets played live.
“Well, it’s not always you watch my shows—with your whole thing and our usual tour dates and locations—so I really wanted to do something special.” You hummed, leaning further into his touch. ”It’s almost your birthday anyway.”
“My birthday is still in, like, three months.” 
You shrug. “It’s never too early to celebrate.”
“That’s the length of an entire season, quierde. I think it’s still early.”
“That means there’s only more gifts to come, yeah?” He half-heartedly murmurs something in agreement. 
There's a comfortable silence between the two of you.
“Love?” You called.
“Hmmm?”
You got on your tiptoes, balancing your weight on his shoulders, and gave him a peck on the lips, yet as you set yourself down, you felt him sweep you off your feet to return the kiss.
Your tea can wait a little longer.
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helvegen-s · 15 hours
Text
Rage, rage | seven
index
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Pairing: Azriel x Hybern!Princess!OC
Summary: Nimue was a gift for the King of Hybern. His shining jewel, the perfect heir. However, she is clear about who the villain of the story is. When she saves her father's enemies from a tragic end, she realizes that now it's the Cauldron who has a gift for her: a mate.
Warnings: I think none, just some bantering and fluff towards the end
A/N: here is where the good shit starts...
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Nimue had started spending more time outdoors. She sat on the balconies of the house, in the garden, in the outdoor patio, and she enjoyed the fresh air. She loved feeling the wind on her skin, in her hair, the chill as the sun set.
However, there was a shadow looming over her.
She was enjoying her new life, her new freedom, but she knew that at some point all of that would have to change, that she would have to return to reality.
She was sitting in the garden, in a chair, with her eyes closed and letting herself be carried away by the sensation of the sun on her skin when suddenly she felt it.
She felt something in her mind open up, and her vision was blinded from inside her skull. When she opened her eyes, she didn't see the trees and rose bushes in the garden, she only saw white.
She didn't panic, as that light was the same one that surrounded her when she was inside the Cauldron. It was him, trying to tell her something, to teach her something.
So she clung to the chair's armrests to stay anchored to the earthly plane and let herself be carried wherever the Cauldron was dragging her.
She saw herself in the middle of a path. In front of her, green meadows and lush forests. There was something there that made the greens of the leaves seem livelier, that made the blue sky shine brighter.
When she turned around, trying to take in all her surroundings, she found a beautiful mansion behind her, where the path she was on ended. The house was neglected, but still, its charm made Nimue feel drawn towards its interior.
She supposed it must be the Spring Court, as it matched the brief descriptions Feyre had given her when telling her story.
And then she saw it.
Under the huge entrance gate, she saw them, all of them.
She saw Jurian, she saw Dagdan and Brannagh, her hateful cousins. There in the midst of all that splendor and springtime radiance, the human and the two twins exuded a poisonous and black aura that tainted the air around them.
She wondered if that's how Azriel and the others saw her, and she felt a pang of disgust towards herself in her chest.
Azriel, standing in the middle of the kitchen with a cup in his hand, felt the same pang in his own chest.
He immediately became alert and pulled and pulled on that invisible thread. He felt Nimue's presence on the other side, but there was something strange. As if she also wasn't there.
He set the cup aside, not caring if it fell to the floor or not, and hurried out of the kitchen. He first looked in the library, where he knew she spent most of her time.
He knew, clearly, because it was his duty to watch over her and make sure she didn't have any hidden intentions.
Just because of that, nothing more.
When he decided to peek into the garden, there she was.
The princess, taking one last look to identify Tamlin and Lucien, let herself be dragged back to Velaris, to her new home.
She came to her senses, and in front of her was Azriel.
"Hello."
Azriel didn't say anything. He just looked at her, in silence, watching as the girl got up from the chair and walked towards him under the sunlight.
There, in the light, she seemed to shine with her own light.
He took a couple of deep breaths and tensed his body completely. Involuntarily, his wings spread behind him, and he could see his own shadow projected on the ground.
Alright, perfect. We have to impress her.
He wanted to smack himself.
After what had happened the other day at the training ground, after letting himself go so unconsciously, Azriel's shadows had completely betrayed him. They spent the hours of the day chasing Nimue around the house, whispering in his ear everything the princess did or didn't do, telling him that she wore a very pretty dress, or that she had perfumed herself with a small bottle of cologne that Feyre had given her.
He had been avoiding her for days, now more than ever, after the ridiculousness he had made in front of Cassian.
Oh, Cassian. He had made sure everyone in the house knew, and he had also made sure to embarrass Azriel on the subject.
And now, after days, their encounter couldn't happen any other way, with his body disobeying him again, his wings spreading like a bird's, his body tensing every muscle to pretend.
He looked like a foolish teenager trying to impress the girl he liked.
Nimue gave him a warm smile, so warm that Azriel could swear his heart was melting in the middle of his chest.
"I haven't seen you in many days."
Nimue knew he had been avoiding her. Nimue knew Azriel's shadows followed her around the house. She also knew that something had changed within the male, because she felt it through the bond. She felt a small burning spark, amidst all that anger and rage boiling inside him.
"I've been busy. I have a job, even if it doesn't seem like it."
Azriel reconsidered the option of smacking himself.
Why was he like this with her? Why couldn't he manage to give her a kind word, a good look, a nice smile? Just like everyone else in his family did.
However, Nimue's own smile didn't falter.
"I know," she simply said. She continued to look at him a little longer, with all that curiosity in her face that only made Azriel soften even more.
And so they stood, in silence, facing each other for a while longer without really knowing what to say. Simply internalizing each other's presence. Until Nimue remembered the pressing matter.
"Oh, I have to talk to Rhysand. Things are moving fast in Spring.”
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"Wonderful. So now it's not just Tamlin, as if that wasn't enough, the damn Jurian is with him in Spring too. And you're telling me you have two sadistic and psychopathic cousins there as well?"
Rhysand immediately wanted to tear his hair out. Everything was slipping out of their hands. They had found a quick and discreet solution to all of this, to prevent a greater evil, and things had gone awry. He was grateful for the help Nimue had unconditionally provided, but welcoming the princess into their home had only put a target on their backs for the King of Hybern.
"I can help, Rhysand. Let me go there, and I'll take care of slowing down all their plans."
The High Lord hesitated. He could feel Feyre's gaze on him, the expectation she placed on his decision.
"Nimue..." Rhysand didn't know how to say it tactfully.
He glanced around the room, where everyone had gathered to hear what the princess had to say. He observed Azriel carefully, who stood with his arms crossed over his chest, looking as though he might bore a hole in the floor with his restlessness.
Azriel didn't want to let her go to Spring. It was suspicious, too risky. The perfect opportunity for her to betray their trust, to join forces with her cousins and the traitor Tamlin and end everything in Prythian, just as her father wanted her to do.
He wanted to trust her, but her eagerness to convince them to let her go, to let her go with the enemy...
"No," said Azriel. He stepped forward, imposing himself in the atmosphere of that meeting, and everyone looked at him. "We can't let her go, it's risky and dangerous. We still don't know what her intentions are or what will happen if her family convinces her to return.
"Don't talk about me as if I'm not here in front of you." With her sharp teeth fully visible, ears laid back and pinned to her skull, Nimue looked like a stray cat about to attack. The embodiment of rage. "I've been in this house for almost a month, living with you all and earning your trust. If I wanted to kill you, I would have done it in Hybern to save myself all this time, I wouldn't need to convince you of anything if my goal was to win the war for my father. I would simply kill you, and there would be no war to win."
Everyone remained silent and surprised at the princess's sudden outburst of fury. The sweet and innocent girl they had come to know over the past month had disappeared, and in her place, a furious beast stared at each of them one by one.
"I made it clear from the beginning. You need me. Let me fit into your plans and help you, or I'll burn everything down regardless of what stands in the way: High Lords or kings of Hybern."
Rhysand immediately became alert, ready for anything, as did the entire Inner Circle.
"Calm down."
"I'll calm down when you understand that I'm not a helpless child, nor a mere spy. I'll calm down when you understand that I'm a weapon made for war and that I have no reason to wish you harm," Nimue breathed. She did her best to dissipate her anger, to let it flow and evaporate through every pore. "Unlike the father who imprisoned me for twenty years and intends to ravage the entire world, I wish no harm upon you."
Azriel, with his hand on the hilt of his dagger, felt the heavy atmosphere of the room dissipate slowly, as Nimue glanced at each of them one by one, pleading for a vote of confidence. He felt the sorrow of the female in his own chest, raw through the bond.
Sorrow, because even though Nimue believed she was finding her place, she felt so hard to love, so hard to accept. They saw her as a monster and a threat wherever she went, and there were times when, despite her efforts to fight against that stigma, she only reinforced it. Like at that moment, when faced with the rejection of these people, she had reverted to her old self, the one who bared her teeth and threatened others.
In a final desperate attempt, she turned to Azriel, "Please, I beg you. Give me this chance and take action against my father and his madness."
Azriel looked at her, holding his breath and fighting against the instinct to fall to his knees and give the pleading female whatever she wanted. It was so difficult for him to fight against his instincts that he had to close his eyes and then look at the ceiling, avoiding Nimue's eyes, who knew what she was doing with all the rationality Azriel could have.
Rhysand broke the silence with a long sigh.
"Okay," sighed the High Lord. There was a moment of silence in which Azriel supposed he would be speaking mind to mind with Feyre. "The only condition is that Azriel goes with you and ensures that everything goes well."
"Okay. When do we leave?"
Azriel gazed enraptured at his lifelong brother, his High Lord.
"Pardon?”
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She was sitting in one of the armchairs in her room, her gaze fixed on the stars shining in the sky. She counted them, searching for the constellations that Amren had taught her in those books, memorizing their names. She felt nerves on edge, anticipation for the next day, for her parting to the Spring Court boiling deep within her.
Finally, she felt useful. Finally, her twenty years of waiting were leading her somewhere. Although she found herself on the opposite side of the fight than she had imagined, she felt that was where she belonged.
In her reverie, she felt a tug in the middle of her chest. The door to her room opened on its own, as if a gust of wind had pushed it, as if the house itself were urging her to go. Nimue shivered and decided to follow that pull, that sensation she received with open arms even if she didn't want to, even if she tried to resist it.
Azriel.
She followed the bond through the corridors, blindly, opening doors and ascending to the attic of the house. There, she climbed out of one of the windows and onto the roof of the house.
In the darkness of the night, illuminated by the half moon, Azriel was sitting on the black tiles, his face tilted towards the sky and his eyes closed.
Nimue didn't utter a word, didn't move a muscle, by the Mother, she didn't even breathe. She stayed still, observing every angle of that male's face, how the pale light of the moon illuminated his dark skin, how his raven hair shone like the purest of onyx. She remained silent, afraid he would notice her presence and chase her away barking, as the only communication between them was usually to insult or annoy each other.
Nimue looked at him and looked at him. She looked at him so much that she thought she was going to cry, until Azriel let out a sigh.
"Are you going to come closer or are you going to stay there all night?"
Nimue flinched, but quickly crawled over to where he was, sitting beside him at a prudent distance and pulling her knees to her chest. She felt her nose and cheeks reddened by the cold, her fingertips growing numb. But she didn't mind, as that made her feel alive.
"Are you nervous?"
She mulled over the response for a couple of seconds, still gazing at the stars.
"Yes," she turned to look at Azriel only to find the male's gaze already fixed on her, a relaxed expression on his face. "And you?"
"Only a fool wouldn't be."
They fell silent for a while longer, Nimue's gaze on the city below, Azriel's on the beautiful female beside him.
He couldn't stop looking at her. When he tried, his gaze involuntarily returned to her figure. He focused on every little thing, every tiny detail he could see: the waves of her white hair, the messy half up she wore, how the smile seemed so natural on her face that even though she tried to hide it, it always came back.
His shadows seemed awfully and suspiciously quiet that night, leaving room for his not so quiet thoughts.
Suddenly, she raised her hand, pointing at something in the middle of the sky.
"I never knew what that constellation was called, but it's the one I observed from the few windows I saw in the Palace. Every night I looked at it, counted the stars, drew it on every piece of paper I laid my hands on."
Azriel followed her finger, unable to contain his smile when he saw what she meant. He leaned back, lying on the tiles and letting his weight fall on his elbows. Nimue turned to him, that curiosity and fascination typical of a child discovering the world shining in her eyes, and Azriel felt a stab of anger.
His mate, who had spent the twenty years of her life locked in a Palace, was nothing more than the puppet of a bad man. And only now she was lucky enough to see the world, to be fascinated by all those things that he considered so mundane and ordinary that he overlooked them day after day.
"Here we call it the Promise constellation, but in other courts they call it the Lovers' constellation. Under it, many couples in Prythian swear eternal love. They celebrate their weddings and engagements at night and swear their vows under the light of those stars." Azriel looked at her cautiously, waiting for any reaction from her.
But Nimue only turned her gaze back to the stars, a lump in her throat. It was beautiful. Swearing eternal love to someone...
In all her existence, she had never imagined that there would be room for love. But she allowed herself to dream for a second, just one second, about how it would feel to love and be loved.
Azriel felt his emotions mix with Nimue's, felt so many things at once that, careful not to let the female see him, he brought his hand to his face to wipe away the tear that was sliding down his cheek. It was brutal, feeling all those things as if it were the first time, because it certainly was the first time Nimue felt them.
"How beautiful..." the princess whispered.
"Yes, it is. It's beautiful."
Nimue looked at him again, the purest of smiles on her face, and with a quick movement, she took Azriel's hand between hers and brought it to her lap, causing Azriel to be surprised by the gesture.
"You must learn to trust me, no matter what it costs. From my heart and under this constellation, I swear loyalty to you, I swear I will do everything I can to win this war and make sure nothing goes wrong. I swear with all my soul that you can trust me, that I am worthy of your trust."
Azriel was stunned, speechless, a look of complete surprise uncommon on his face. With his gaze lost in their joined hands, he couldn't help but notice the scars contrasting against Nimue's pale skin, and how well their hands looked together. So contrasting were their skin tones, yet so accomplice in the marks of their past. He sat up, and with his other gloved hand, he embraced Nimue's.
"And I swear I will learn to trust you, blindly."
Intertwining between their fingers, a tattoo in the shape of thorn branches began to stain their skin, bearing witness to the promise they had just made.
And with only the stars as witnesses, Azriel and Nimue held each other's hands, looking into each others eyes, staring into each other's souls.
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Taglist:
@lilah-asteria @agentsofsheilds @leptitlu @just-here-reading @glitterypirateduck @saltedcoffeescotch @krowiathemythologynerd @donttellthecats @annblvd @annamariereads16 @crazylokonugget @smoooothoperator @bookwormysblog
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barbwritesstuff · 2 days
Note
Pls don't feel bad about the time skips! I read ppl complaining on the forum but I think they miss the point of TT.
It's meant to show how much of a curse vampirism actually is. Like no matter how much you try to keep your humanity, you are functioning on a completely different wavelength as humans and one thing that encapsulates it are the time skips. You can't have a non vampire partner or child and expect a happy ending, one distraction or something gone wrong and you lose a decent chunk out of their lives without realizing. It's a story meant to lack agency! Being a vampire in your world is only meant to end three ways: being hunted, starved, or walking into the sun. And most probably utterly alone.
Writing is a learning curve that never stops curvin'. And, to be clear, that's something I really like about writing. I really enjoy trying new things and getting feedback on readers on whether or not those things worked.
I didn't expect the time skips to be contentious, but I can understand why some people don't like them.
They feel like they remove agency in a choice based game. That's a very real critique that I totally understand.
Unfortunately, they've been baked into the narrative from the start. I always planned on Thicker Than to take place over a decade (actually, originally it was 13 years, but I shortened it to a decade to show a tiny wee bit of mercy to the human ROs) and the time skips are the only real way to do that.
The time skips make sense for me because they show how vampires change over time. The player gets to level up their powers and becomes more a part of the undead world.
A just resurrected fledgling is not going to be the same creature as a ten-years-dead vampire. And while you're still very young, it makes the final showdowns a little more probable.
The player's character isn't a total noob by the end of the game.
I've tried to brainstorm some ways to smooth over the transitions, but the truth is, they're already pretty much as good as I can make them. So I hope those that don't like the time skips aren't too put off by them.
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thewulf · 3 days
Text
Second Sunrise || Dallas "Dally" Winston
Summary: Request - Dally x buck merril's cousin!reader who buck adopted bc her parents were abusing her.
A/N: Ahhh protective Dally is the best kind of Dally!! This is a heavier one, please look at the trigger warnings before reading. Hope you guys enjoy.
Pairing: Dallas "Dally" Winston x Female Reader (Buck Merril Cousin)
Word Count: 5.2k +
TW: ABUSE, talks of abuse, hitting, bruises, cuts, blood, threats of violence, general Outsiders warnings
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The night at Buck's Rodeo Bar was buzzing with life. The jukebox played a raucous country tune while laughter and the clink of beer glasses filled the air. Neon lights cast a glow over the rustic scene illuminating the wood-paneled walls adorned with rodeo memorabilia. Behind the bar, Buck Merril, the owner, and a towering figure with an easy smile, was busy serving drinks. He handed another beer to Dallas "Dally" Winston who wasn’t just a regular; he lived in the small apartment right above the bar.
"Here’s another on the house," Buck said, wiping his hands on a towel. "So, Dal, still finding trouble or is trouble finding you?" He smirked knowing how tuned into trouble his friend was.
Dally was reclining against the bar with his leather jacket just catching the light gave Buck a wry grin. "A bit of both, I guess. Keeps life interesting. What’s been going on with you?"
Buck's gaze shifted to the end of the bar where a young woman was quietly serving customers. His expression softened a bit as he nodded towards her. "You see that girl over there? The one with the tray full of drinks?"
Dally followed Buck’s nod, observing her. She seemed out of place with her reserved demeanor.  Almost too gentle for the rough-and-tumble crowd of the bar. "Yeah, I see her. What about her?"
"That’s my cousin," Buck revealed. His voice lowering even as he kept his tone casual. "Took her in a few months back. Found her in a real bad way... her folks were the ones hurting her. Had to step in and bring her here."
The typical hardness in Dally’s eyes softened. A rare flicker of concern showing through as he took a longer look at her. "That’s rough. How’s she doing now?"
"She’s getting by day by day. It’s tough though, especially at night," Buck explained as his eyes tracked her movements. You skillfully avoided drawing attention to yourself. "She doesn’t talk much about it… tries to keep her head down."
Dally nodded slowly. His usual detached demeanor shifting towards something more thoughtful. "She got a name?"
"Her name's Y/N," Buck said, a touch of pride in his voice. "She's a tough one but you know how it is... the past has a way of holding on."
Dally took a sip of his beer. His gaze lingering on you as you laughed softly at something a customer said. "Maybe I’ll introduce myself, see if she needs anything. Living up here it’d be good to have someone to talk to who understands."
Buck clapped Dally on the back, grateful. "I’d appreciate that and I think she would too. She could use a friend around here."
As Buck moved off to attend to another customer Dally watched you carefully across the bar. There was a quiet strength about you that reminded him of his own struggles, sparking an unexpected sense of kinship. He decided he'd make the first move later that night. A simple gesture of solidarity from one survivor to another.
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On a chilly a few months prior during the evening Buck was at a local bar, not his own. He was just enjoying a quiet drink away from his usual crowd. The place was less crowded, dimly lit, with the usual murmur of hushed conversations filling the air.
At the far end of the bar Buck overheard a familiar voice rising above the low din. It was his uncle, Y/N's father, drunk and bitterly ranting to anyone who would listen. Buck’s ears perked up as the harsh words cut through the buzz of the bar.
"Yeah, that worthless girl of mine," his uncle slurred, his voice dripping with contempt, "Nothing but a dumb whore. Ain’t good for nothing but to kick around. She’s just like her mother. Can’t do nothing right."
The bar’s patrons shifted uncomfortably. Some trying to ignore the man, others glancing sympathetically towards Buck knowing the already strained relationship. Buck’s jaw tightened with anger and a fierce protectiveness rising within him. He had known your home life was troubled, but the cruel reality had never been so blatantly laid out before him.
With a hard slam of his glass on the counter Buck stood up, his decision made in an instant. He left the bar and drove straight to your house. His mind racing with every turn of the wheel. When he arrived, the scene was as bad as he had feared, maybe worse.
He found you in the corner of her dimly lit living room. Your form small and battered. A stark contrast to the storm raging outside. Your mother was the only other person present, her demeanor anxious and defensive as Buck burst through the door.
"What the hell is going on here?" Buck’s voice thundered through the small space as he quickly assessed the situation. His eyes darting from you to your mother.
Your mother tried to intercept him with her voice shaky. "Buck, you shouldn’t be here—"
"It’s too late for that," Buck cut her off. His voice firm and resolute. "I just heard that excuse of a father of hers at the bar, bragging about how he treats Y/N. I’m taking her with me. She’s not staying here another minute."
Overwhelmed and cornered your mother wilted under Buck’s stern gaze. "You can’t just take her. She—"
"I’m not asking," Buck stated flatly. His decision was clear in his tone. "I’m telling you how it’s going to be. If you have any objections we can go through the authorities."
He approached you, his demeanor softening as he reached out to help you up. "Let’s go, Y/N. You’re safe now. You’re with me."  With a comforting hand on your back Buck led you out of the house and into the safety of his car. The rain started as the two of you drove away washing over the car.
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Dally watched you move through the bar. Your interactions tinged with the newfound stability that Buck had given you. His thoughts on your resilience deepened. His respect for Buck’s bold intervention reinforcing his desire to get to know you better. The bond of shared struggles was forming, unspoken yet palpable in the busy bar.
You moved with a gentle grace. Your smile was warm yet reserved as you took orders and delivered drinks. Your interactions were polite and professional, yet there was a hint of wariness in your eyes. A shadow that seemed to linger from your past. As you paused to reset a table, straightening the condiments, and wiping down the surface, your attention to detail spoke of someone who took pride in your work. Dally thought that perhaps you found solace in the routines.
Dally’s gaze followed your movements until he found himself standing up, driven by an impulse to bridge the gap between them. He approached the bar where she was lining up drinks on a tray.
"Hey," Dally started. His voice slightly hesitant as he leaned against the bar. "You’re Y/N, right? Buck’s cousin?"
You looked up with a flicker of surprise crossing your features before you nodded hesitantly, clearly unsure of the man standing before you. "Yeah, that’s me. And you are?"
"Dally," he replied offering a small, reassuring smile. "I live upstairs. Heard a lot about you from Buck. Said you’re tough. I can respect that."
A trace of a smile touched your lips. Your guard lowering just a bit. "Thanks, I guess. It’s been a... well, it’s been quite a time adjusting here."
Dally picked up a coaster, spinning it between his fingers. "I get it. Had my share of rough patches too. Buck’s a good guy, though. You landed in a decent spot."
"Yeah he’s been great," You agreed with him. Your hands busying themselves with the drinks attempting to hide a slight tremor. "I’m just trying to make the best of it now."
"Mind if I help you carry these over?" Dally gestured towards the tray. He was eager to extend the interaction, to find more common ground with you. You seemed so hesitant and afraid. Not that he could blame you.
You paused for a fraction of a second before nodding. "Sure, that’d be nice. Table six, over there."
As you walked over to the table together Dally felt the initial awkwardness begin to dissipate. "So, you ever think about what’s next or you just taking it one day at a time?"
"One day at a time, really," You said as you reached the table being careful to set down the drinks with a thankful smile from the patrons. "But I like it here. It feels like a fresh start away from… them."
Dally nodded feeling a kinship in your words. "Fresh starts are good. Hard but good. If you ever need someone to talk to or anything, I’m just upstairs. Sometimes it helps talking to someone who gets it."
You looked at him with your expression softening further. "Thanks Dally. I might just take you up on that offer." For the first time in a while a genuine smile crossed your face at his words.
Over the next few weeks, a subtle shift began to unfold between you and Dally at Buck’s bar. What started as casual exchanges of small talk over the bar counter deepened into late-night conversations that lingered long after the last customer had left.
One evening as the neon signs were turned off and the bar quieted down you found yourself sitting at one of the tables with Dally with a deck of cards spread out between you. He had insisted on teaching you poker, claiming that it was a sin you didn’t know how to play. That got a laugh out of you as you agreed with him. The game was merely a pretense. It was a backdrop to the intimate dialogue that wove between you two. You touched on topics neither of you usually shared with others.
"So, do you have any dreams? Like things you wanna do now that you’ve got a fresh start?" Dally asked. His hands idly shuffling the cards almost afraid to look into your eyes.
You paused as you traced the wood grain of the table with your finger. "I don’t know," you confessed softly. "I used to think a lot about traveling. Seeing places that are totally different from here. Maybe write about them. But that doesn’t really seem possible. What about you?" You tried your best to flip it around on him.
Dally let out a soft, wistful laugh. "Me? I’ve never been much of a dreamer. Always been about getting through the day. But I guess, maybe, finding some peace? Could be nice to have a real shot at something stable, you know?" He’d told you all about his shitty situation that made your heart hurt for him. How could anyone be so cruel to him? Sure, he had a rough exterior but had anybody ever tried to get to know Dallas Winston? He was a sweetheart through and through. Albeit a little awkward about it but he always seemed to put your needs ahead of his. How could you not start to fall for him?
Your eyes met then met his with a mutual understanding crossing between you. Both of you knew what it was like to long for something more than just survival, more than the daily struggles that had so often defined your lives.
As autumn deepened and the nights grew colder your meetings at the bar became a regular fixture. Sometimes you would both sit in silence each lost in your own thoughts yet comforted by the presence of the other. Other times you would share stories of your pasts—guarded tales of pain and resilience that you entrusted to each other.
One winter evening as you walked back from a nearby diner that Dally and you had become accustomed to you wrapped your arms around yourself against the chill. Dally noticed and without a word draped his jacket over your shoulders. Neither of you broached the subject of what the hell was going on. Rather you simply just decided to enjoy the others company. It was easy with him. A rarity in your fucked up world.
"Thanks," you murmured. Your cheeks flushing slightly as you pulled the jacket tighter around you. “You sure? It’s cold.”
"I’m sure. It’s nothing," Dally replied with his voice low. "You know, talking to you... it’s the first time in a long while I’ve felt like someone actually gets it." His eyes looked everywhere but yours. A slight flush crossed his features as he admitted so. You’d come to learn how difficult these emotional conversations were for him. But you did get it. They were hard for you too. Neither of you were raised with love. You were always the second thought. The bitch daughter or the troubled son.
You nodded to him with your eyes reflecting the streetlights. "I feel the same. It’s weird, isn’t it? How talking can make things seem a bit lighter." You tried reassuring him with your words.
You continued your walk-in comfortable silence, whatever it was between the two of you growing with every shared glance and laugh. By the time you reached the bar again your laughter echoed softly in the empty street. You’d never laughed so much in your life as you did when you were with him.
The bar was alive with the usual Friday night revelry as you knew Buck needed your help. Once you entered the bar you waved Dally off with that genuine smile he adored so much. The air was filled with laughter and the twang of country tunes. You stood behind the bar pouring drinks and sharing easy smiles. You felt more secure and content than you ever had in your life. Dally was there too. He didn’t want to leave or go upstairs after your dinner not date. He watched you from across the room with a protective gaze that had become a comforting fixture in your life.
But the fragile peace shattered the moment your father staggered through the door.
His arrival cut through the noise like a cold front. His eyes scanning the crowd until they landed on you behind the bar. With a cruel smirk twisting his lips he made his way over to you. Each step heavy with menace. You tensed when he stood in front of you. Your hands gripped the edge of the bar trying to ground yourself back into the situation. Why? Why couldn’t he have just left you alone? It’d been months and you hadn’t heard from him. Why did he have to come now?
"Y/N.” He spit your name out with vengeance. “You think you can hide from me?" He slurred.  His voice loud and filled with malice. He reached over the bar grabbing your arm and yanking you towards him. You should’ve expected it, but the shock of his arrival had you paralyzed. His other hand struck your face. His ring cutting a sharp line across your cheek. You let out a quiet yelp as the pain burned bright.
The bar fell silent. The music fading into the background. Before you could react, Dally was there in an instant. His presence like a storm. He grabbed your father by the collar and threw him back with such force that your father stumbled and fell onto his back with a heavy thud.
"You lay your hands on her again and I swear it'll be the last thing you do," Dally thundered, standing over him. His fists clenched and ready. His breathing was heavy as he looked like he truly would kill him should he try that again.
Your father, sprawled on the floor, looked up at Dally with a mix of shock and rage. "You stupid worthless whore!" he spat at you. His words echoing through the now silent bar. He jumped to his feet attempting to get his hands back on you.
Dally’s response was swift though. His fist connected with your father's face, a sharp, resounding impact that sent him back to the ground, blood spattering from his lip. All you could do was gape at the situation unfolding before you.
Buck rushed over appearing out of nowhere. His face set in a hard line. "That's enough!" he declared standing beside Dally. His eyes bore the same expression of Dally’s, "Get out of my bar and don't come back. Next time I'm calling the cops."
With a hand from Dally your father was hauled to his feet and shoved towards the door. His exit was met with relieved sighs and a few scattered claps from the patrons, but the atmosphere remained tense. You couldn’t seem to focus on what would come next as your eyes were trained on Dallas and only him.
As the door slammed shut behind your father leaving the bar in an uneasy silence. Dally turned his gaze back on you. His heart nearly shattered seeing your bleeding face mixing with a few tears that’d slipped down. He could see the pain flicker across your face not just from the cut but from the reopened wounds of your past. Slowly he walked back over to you with his hands up. He didn’t want to freak you out further than you were. With a gentle touch that contrasted sharply with the fierce protection he had just displayed Dally leaned in close.
"Come on sweetheart. Let's get that cleaned up," he said softly nodding towards the staircase that led to his apartment above the bar.
You hesitated. A mix of emotions swirling within you—gratitude, relief, but also a deep-seated fear from the confrontation. Sensing your hesitation Dally offered a reassuring smile. "I promise you, you're safe with me."
Trusting him you allowed Dally to lead you up the stairs to his modest living space. The apartment was small but welcoming with a warmth that felt comforting after the cold violence of the night. Dally guided you to a seat at the small kitchen table, then wet a clean cloth with warm water and approached you gently.
"May I?" he asked. His tone was more tender than you’d ever heard from him. You nodded and he carefully dabbed at the cut on your cheek. His touch was so light you could barely feel it. As he tended to your wound the kindness of the act—so at odds with the harshness you had grown used to—overwhelmed you and a fresh set of tears began to stream down your face.
Dally brow furrowed in concern. "Hey, it's okay," he murmured while he set aside the cloth to pull a chair up close beside you. He sat down. His brown eyes searching yours. They were so full of empathy. "You don't have to hold it all in, sweetheart. Not here."
You looked into Dally’s eyes seeing there not just the rugged survivor of the streets, but a kindred spirit who had seen his share of pain and still chose kindness. With a shaky breath you leaned into him, your head resting against his shoulder.
Dally wrapped his arms around you holding you gently. "You're safe here, Y/N. As long as you need, as long as you want."
In that quiet space with Dally's steady presence enveloping you, the fear and tension that had knotted in your chest began to dissolve. His apartment was small and unassuming, but it felt like a sanctuary and his embrace a shield against the chaos of your past.
The night wound down quietly with you and Dally sitting together. The two of you talked softly about nothing and everything until the early morning light began to seep through the curtains. It was the first night in forever where you felt truly safe, truly seen.
As the first light of dawn painted the walls of Dally's apartment a soft, warm hue, the room was filled with a sense of quiet intimacy that had grown over the course of the night. Sitting side by side on the worn couch both you and Dally were enveloped in a reflective silence. The kind that follows after a storm of emotions.
Dally was the first to break the silence,. His gaze fixed on the faint light peeking through the blinds before turning to look at you. "You know," he began with his voice low and a little rough from the long night, "tonight was a mess, but it kinda cleared up something for me."
Your heart fluttered with a mix of anticipation and nervousness as you met his eyes. "What's that?" you asked softly. You were almost afraid to hear the answer but desperate to know.
Dally took a deep breath as his hand found yours. His fingers gently intertwining with yours. "It's you," he said simply. "All this craziness... it made me realize how much I care about you. More than I thought possible, actually."
Hearing his words a warmth spread through you, mingling with the fatigue from the night’s events. You squeezed his hand, the gesture simple but filled with meaning. "Dally, I feel the same. I didn't know how to say it before, but you've become so important to me."
The corner of Dally’s mouth lifted in a half-smile. A hint of his usual cockiness peeking through his tired features. "Yeah? That’s good to hear, 'cause I wasn’t sure how you’d take it." You giggled at that feeling a sense of euphoria at how this all actually turned out.
As the conversation dwindled, a yawn escaped you breaking the tender moment with its stark reminder of the night’s toll on your body. Dally chuckled softly. He pat his leg in a gentle, inviting gesture. "C'mere, sweetheart. Lay down here and close your eyes. I’ll be right here when you wake up."
Grateful and too exhausted to protest you shifted closer, laying your head on his thigh as he adjusted to make you comfortable. His hand found your hair, fingers brushing softly through it in a soothing rhythm.
With the comfort of his presence and the security of his promise you allowed your eyes to flutter closed, sleep overtaking you swiftly. The last thing you felt was Dally’s protective gaze and the gentle pressure of his hand in your hair. It was a silent vow of his commitment to be there no matter what came next.
As you settled against Dally your breath evening out in the quiet rhythm of sleep, he watched the soft rise and fall of your shoulders. A sense of peace settling over him. The apartment was quiet now the only sound the faint hum of the city awakening outside. In this moment, with the early morning light casting gentle shadows across your face, Dally found himself in a rare state of contemplation.
His hand rested gently on your head. His fingers lightly tracing through your hair. It was a simple, almost unconscious gesture that soothed both of you. The weight of the night's events lingered in his mind—the confrontation, the fear in your eyes, the way his heart had raced when he stood up for you. It all solidified something he'd only begun to admit to himself: how deeply he cared for you, how fiercely he wanted to protect you. How he may have even loved you.
As he watched you sleep Dally’s thoughts drifted. He was used to solitude, to the rough and tumble of a life lived on the edges. But sitting here with you breathing softly against him, he felt a pull towards something different. Something more. It was terrifying and new. This feeling of wanting to belong to someone, of wanting someone to belong with him.
He couldn’t remember the last time he had allowed himself to be so vulnerable with another person or if he ever truly had. But with you it felt right. It felt necessary. He realized that this—caring for you, being there for you—might be the closest thing to home he had ever known.
The morning grew brighter, light filling the room and Dally’s own eyelids began to droop. The exhaustion from the night's adrenaline and the emotional toll of opening his heart were catching up with him. But he didn’t want to move. Didn’t want to risk waking you. He wanted you to sleep as long as you needed, to wake up feeling safe and cared for.
His hand continued to run through your hair slowly, rhythmically, until his own eyes finally closed. Sleep overtaking him in the quiet comfort of his apartment. Even in sleep, his presence remained steadfast. A promise to be there when you woke up, and for whatever came next.
As the morning sun climbed higher with its rays streaming through the gaps in the curtains the apartment above Buck’s Rodeo Bar held a quiet, peaceful scene. Dally and you were asleep as an unspoken love formed in the shared silence of rest after a tumultuous night. However, this tranquility was soon interrupted by the sound of the apartment door swinging open with casual familiarity.
Buck strolled in with a steaming coffee cup in one hand and a bag of breakfast sandwiches in the other. His voice breaking the morning calm with a playful tone. "Well, look what we have here," he exclaimed. "Our very own knight in shining armor and his damsel tucked away from the world. You two sure skedaddled out of the bar pretty quick last night. Place your bets, folks!" He snickered seeing you and him so coziest up on the couch together.
Before Buck could spin another jest Dally's eyes snapped open, immediately alert. His protective instincts still sharp from the night before, flared up at the intrusion. “Buck, shut the hell up. She’s sleeping.” Dally hissed with his tone both irritated and fiercely protective. He glanced down quickly to make sure you were still out, undisturbed by the noise of your cousin.
Buck paused at the threshold, a knowing smirk spreading across his face as he took in the scene—the way you were nestled comfortably against Dally, his hand resting protectively in your hair even in sleep. "Oh man, Dally’s gone soft," Buck teased in a low voice chuckling to himself. "Never thought I’d see the day. Truly."
He set down the coffee and sandwiches on the kitchen counter. His movements now deliberately quiet though his eyes twinkled with mirth. “I’ll keep it down. You lovebirds need your rest after all those heroics last night.”
Dally just glared at him, but his posture relaxed slightly as he saw that you were still sleeping peacefully. His gaze softened as he looked back down at you. The fierceness melting into something tender and caring.
Buck watched the exchange. His chuckle deepening as he backed out of the room shaking his head in amusement. “I’ll be downstairs,” he murmured before pulling the door almost closed behind him. "Don’t rush Dally. The world can wait."
As the door clicked shut Dally’s hand resumed its gentle motion through your hair, his eyes lingering on your face. He let out a quiet sigh while the tension eased from his shoulders. The world outside could indeed wait. Right now, being in this quiet moment was all that mattered. He wanted to keep you safe making sure you felt cared for. And as he settled back closing his eyes once more he knew deep down that whatever came next, he was ready. So long as it was with you.
Later that day after a few more hours of much-needed sleep, you and Dally made your way back down to Buck’s bar. The place had regained its usual lively atmosphere with the afternoon crowd bringing a bustling energy that filled the air with music, laughter, and the clinking of glasses.
You and Dally settled into a quiet corner booth a bit removed from the hustle and bustle. The events of the previous night still lingered in the air between you. An acknowledgment of everything that had happened and everything that was still unspoken.
Dally slid into the booth across from you his demeanor relaxed but his eyes keen, watching you with a softness that was new. "So," he started while breaking the comfortable silence, "feels like we got through some kind of storm, huh?"
You nodded wrapping your hands around a warm cup of coffee that Buck had brought over. His knowing wink making you both smile. "Yeah it does. But it feels like it’s clearing up now," you replied before meeting Dally's gaze with a hopeful smile.
Dally's lips curved into a slow, genuine smile. "I think so too. We've been through a lot, but maybe it's just what we needed."
"Right," you agreed. Your heart feeling lighter than it had in a long time.
The conversation drifted then to lighter topics. Plans for the bar, stories from Dally's wilder days, your dreams of traveling, and with each story and shared laugh the love between you deepened. It was as if the foundations for something new and hopeful were being laid down with each passing moment.
As the afternoon wore on the bar began to fill up with the evening crowd. The music grew louder and the sounds of a lively night taking shape swirled around you. Yet, in your quiet corner of the bar it felt like a sanctuary with him.
Finally, Dally reached across the table taking your hand in his. His gaze conveyed a silent promise of support, understanding without needing to articulate it. The clamor of the bar seemed to fade into the background as Dally broke the silence. "Hey," he said. His voice softer than the din around you, "I was thinkin'... How 'bout we go out tomorrow? Just you and me, no chaos, no drama. We could take my bike, hit the road, see where it takes us."
Your heart that was already warmed by his earlier protectiveness leapt at the invitation. His offer was simple but filled with the promise of new memories, new experience. Just Dally and you learning the rhythms of each other's joy. "I'd like that," you replied with a grin. Your voice equally soft. "A real date, huh?"
Dally's smirk was one of triumph mixed with a bashfulness that you had come to find so endearing. "Yeah, a real date with a beautiful girl," he confirmed. "Figured it's about time we did something normal for a change sweetheart."
The bar around you hummed with life. The energy of people embarking on their nightly escapades, the clatter of glasses and the laughter serving as a backdrop to this quiet, pivotal moment between you and Dally. It symbolized not just a return to normalcy but the blossoming of something new. Something hopeful.
As Dally's thumb gently caressed the back of your hand you felt a chapter closing on the past and a new one beginning. Here in the heart of the bar's fervor you found a peaceful anticipation for the future. This wasn't just an end to the turmoil that had swept you into Dally's life. It was the start of a journey together. A journey that promised the warmth of shared sunrises, the thrill of open roads, and the comfort of hands held tight in solidarity.
In the cacophony of the bar, you both found a shared rhythm. A mutual understanding that this was just the beginning. And with Dally's hand in yours, the future, once so uncertain, now seemed filled with endless possibilities.
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comradekatara · 3 days
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How much do I need to pay for some more aang and suki shenanigans?
same girl!!! their friendship (that is almost entirely hypothetical and mostly exists in my head) is soo important to me i just know they’re best friends. like obviously the fact that suki is close with appa and momo already signifies a lot about the nature of their relationship, but they barely interact throughout the show, which makes sense considering that suki is mostly there to supplement sokka’s character and all her other interactions with the gaang are fairly limited (katara and suki friendship though….. also deeply important. to me). but as the most emotionally healthy, stable, self-possessed, and just straight up cool members of the gaang, i just know they’d get along like a house on fire.
i think suki would pretty quickly come to see aang as a little brother figure the same way sokka does, and suki would be the big sister he never had in return. and they definitely get into all kinds of little adventures together after the war, like aang telling suki about the cactus juice incident and suki immediately being like “omg we NEED to try that (don’t tell sokka and katara)”, or going around helping rebuild villages and relocate displaced peoples together, or pranking each other in increasingly crazier ways.
oh yes the aang and suki prank war is very real (toph and katara have a concurrent prank war going on of course; zuko who is far too sensitive & gullible, and sokka who is far too anxious, refuse to be caught in the crosshairs of either of these conflicts). it starts at the western air temple and ends when both of them are dead. everyone on kyoshi island genuinely worships aang like a god and so they think suki is absolutely fucking insane for putting cactus juice in his smoothie right before he’s supposed to deliver a big speech, but she’s just like “no it’s gonna be so fucking funny, just trust me.” (and it is.)
the “putting a “snake” in your sleeping bag and humiliating you in front of your almost boyfriend and his hot dad -> reading katara a really bad poem and then claiming that aang wrote it for her -> loosening the bedframe in your bedroom on ember island so that it crashes during sex (the point at which aang learned NEVER to make sokka collateral damage in these escapades) -> making the whole gaang sit through a colonialist propaganda play just because you know it’ll piss aang off -> putting hot sauce in your red face paint so that it stings and burns your eyelids so bad throughout the entirety of zuko’s coronation day -> nearly causing an international incident because you straight up endangered the life of the avatar” pipeline is so fucking real you guys.
and for what it’s worth, a lot of people assume that aang and suki actually hate each other, and that’s why they’re so invested in this prank war. but they love each other deeply, and that’s evident whenever they’re not in the middle of concocting a nefarious revenge plot, like when they go for long walks together, or just sit and chill outside, or cook together, or any other one of the many other activities they enjoy in each other’s company. they don’t hold grudges either. the pranking is fun for them because they’re both secure enough in themselves to understand that it’s being done out a shared sense of joy and whimsy, and not out of any desire to genuinely antagonize the other. to be fair, sometimes their pranks do actually go too far in various ways, but again, no hard feelings. it’s just a testament to the skill of the pranker, and an invitation for the other to step up their game.
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