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#i promise ill actually do replies
ghostradiodylan · 5 months
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fightwing · 3 months
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the underuse of literally everyone meaningful to dick during the ric arc never fails to make me 😃🔪
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altruistic-meme · 8 months
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why do i ever assume my family communicates i KNOW they don't why do i ALWAYS fall for this
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sunrizef1 · 6 days
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The Alchemy
Pairing: Logan sargeant x singer!reader
Warnings: Cursing
Authors note: recently realized that every time i include Logan in a fic, he gets points. That is me manifesting xx Not edited, ill edit later. Very loosely based on the alchemy by Taylor swift. This album has me in a chokehold. Also!! Tysm for 1k, I’ve been trying to think of something to do for that xx
Word count: 7.6k (took way too long, thanks Tay)
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“Do you want to go to the f1 race in Miami? Ferrari invited you.”
Your head snaps to your publicist who tilts her head with a questioning look on her face. You set your guitar down, putting an end to your idle strumming. It rests on top of your notebook filled with random lyrics and doodles.
“I didn’t know I was allowed to do that,” you reply, laying back onto the couch you were sat on, shifting to sit in the seat more comfortably.
Your publicist, Aimee, rolls her eyes at your response, clicking away quickly on her phone, “I mean, you’re one of the biggest stars in the world, you could technically do whatever you wanted. It’s just never been in your image to go to sports or whatever. But everyone is gonna be there.”
There it is, the real reason you’d be allowed to go to a race was to be amongst the famous people that Aimee would, no doubt, want you to mingle with. Mingling wasn’t your strong suit.
“Ill think about it,” you give her a tight-lipped smile which she hums in response to, sliding out of the room without another glance at you.
The second she's gone, you collapse against the leather couch, eyes locked onto the ceiling of your studio.
The real reason you wanted to think about going to the race wasn't because Aimee only wanted you to go to get good pr but, instead, it was because of your own personal connection with one of the drivers.
You'd met Logan a year ago at the previous Miami Grand Prix. Noone knew you were there and you had intended to keep it that way before you ran into the driver.
You got in fairly easy, Mercedes VIP pass wrapped around your neck. You were close friends with Lewis who promised he could get you in and out with it still remaining a secret. You had your jacket hood up above your head, hair pulled back away from your face and a pair of sunglasses resting on your nose.
You hadn't thought about how many people you knew would be there. Your eyes stayed trained on the ground for the most part, hoping that it you didn't look up, no one you knew would notice you.
Because you weren't looking where you were going, you didn't see yourself run straight into a taller figure, landing against his hard chest.
Both of you stumble back a bit from the impact and you immediately open your mouth to apologize to the man in front of you but when you look up, the words die in your throat. Your eyes trace the features of the blond man, soaking up every little detail of his pretty face. You can tell he's muscular through his blue t-shirt and your breath catches slightly.
He's speechless when he sees you as well but for a completely different reason. You may not have been in your flashiest clothes or have your usual makeup or hair but anyone with a brain could recognize you if they actually bothered to look. Your music had been everywhere for so long and Logan would be lying if he said he hadn't had a crush on you for the longest time.
When you look up at his face and see him gaping slightly in an attempt to make sure you're actually you, you grasp his hand and start to pull him along before he can blow your cover. You pull him along until you reach a quiet corner, quickly pushing him away from the eyes of other people.
He leans against the wall behind him, crossing his toned arms across his chest and you find yourself gazing again.
“So,” he starts, voice filled with humor, “What is Americas sweetheart doing at a Formula 1 race... Undercover?”
You roll your eyes but cant help the grin that starts to form from the mans words, “I'm not actually supposed to be here.”
“Oh and that's why I got dragged into a dark corner?” the man asks, grin splitting his pretty face.
You laugh but don't catch the pleased look on the man's face, “Yeah, sorry about that. Didn't want anyone to, I don't know, mob me or something.”
“I get it,” when he says it, you can't help but believe he really does get it for some reason. For all you knew, this man might just work PR for…you glance down at his t-shirt to check, Williams Racing!
“Well, thank you for cooperating…?”
The man raises his eyebrows at your questioning tone, “Logan.”
“Thank you for cooperating Logan. I know a lot of people that probably would've fought me for grabbing them like that.”
Logan laughs, head leaning back against the wall gently as the noise leaves his throat, “Its no problem. Are you in the Mercedes garage today?”
You nod at his words, glancing back out to make sure the both of you are still hidden from the outside, “Lewis said he could sneak me in.”
“He didn't do a very good job, then. If I found you out,” Logan grins, leaning away from the wall.
“Maybe not. But you're not gonna tell, are you?” you tilt your head teasingly at the blond, eyes crinkling with the weight of your smile.
He laughs again, sticking his pinky out between the two of you, “I won't, pinky promise.”
You giggle and Logan decides its the only noise he cares to hear from now on. You stick your hand out as well, wrapping your pinky around his and the two of you just stand there for a second, gazing toward the other.
But eventually, both of you seem to remember that there were time-sensitive events about to happen just about 10 meters from where you're stood. You break away from him, smile stuck on your features.
He walks away first, his grin replicating yours. He turns toward you as he walks away, pulling a hand up to wave goodbye slightly as he slides out of the corner.
“See you later, y/n,” he smirks before disappearing from view and something in you tells you you will be seeing him later.
You hurry to the Mercedes garage, having told Lewis you were there 15 minutes ago. He ushers you into his drivers room, telling you that you could chill there until the race started, only a slight bit of concern for your previous whereabouts written on his face. You don’t tell him you think you’d just fallen in love with some random teams random employee, deciding that was a bit too off topic for the currently rushing Lewis who was practically running around his room trying to get his stuff together. He wasn’t stressed since he was, of course, Lewis Hamilton, but this was the most frazzled you’d seen him
“Ill be back before the race starts,” Lewis nods toward you while he opens the door, things clutched in his tattooed hands.
“Have fun, Lew!” you call out, collapsing against his couch the moment he leaves.
You pass the time scrolling through your phone, scribbling random lyrics into your notes app and trying not to fall asleep. Lewis comes back quick enough, sneaking you into the garage with your hood pulled tightly over your hair and sunglasses sat firmly on your face.
No one spares you a second glance and if they do, they know better than to question Lewis Hamilton.
Your eyes are drawn to one of the screens above you, the drivers all stood out in a line together for the national anthem and your eyebrows raise when they land on a certain blond man. Right in front of your eyes, Logan is stood in Williams blue and white next to his teammate as the national anthem plays behind them.
Oh, that cheeky bastard.
Well, at least you now knew where to find him after the race. When the race starts, you try your hardest to stay focused on the Mercedes and cheer for Lewis but you can’t help but let your eyes trace the path of a certain blue car instead.
When the race ends and Logan’s in p8, you find yourself anxiously waiting for Lewis to get back so you can dip. You bounce passively on your heels, fingers picking at the fraying edge of your jacket. The Miami sun beats down relentlessly, making sure you stay safely in the shaded garage.
Lewis gets back quick enough, having not been on the podium this race. You give him a quick hug and a congratulations, telling him you’ll text him if you ended up wanting to get dinner later. You didn’t give him a concrete dinner plan since you had a feeling you’d be busy later.
You practically sprint out of the garage in your effort to find Logan before he leaves, missing the confused look you leave on Lewis’ face as he watches you run.
You honestly had no idea where the Williams garage was but when you see the familiar blue, you stop in your tracks outside the exit. You lean on the wall just outside the door, hoping no one will see you as they leave.
A driver in orange passes you, Oscar maybe, giving you a perplexed look as he walks by. You just dip your head farther, hoping he didn’t recognize you. Or worse, think you’re some kind of stalker.
But before the kid can call any security or ask you for a picture, a familiar laugh sounds out as someone opens the door next to you. You glance up and see Logan exiting and you reach over and grasp his wrist. Logan looks up to see you, his infinite smile seemingly stretching even wider as he see your concealed state.
“Hi, y/n,” he laughs dopily, abandoning whoever he’d been walking out with. You glance over his shoulder to see Oscar with his eyebrows furrowed and you pray any of his concern had disappeared when he saw Logan’s positive reaction.
“Hi, Logan,” you smile back, pulling him away from the garage and hopefully away from anyone at all, ending up in a corner not dissimilar to the what you had pushed him into earlier that day, “Congrats on the points. Can’t believe I thought you worked PR or something.”
He grins again, carding a hand through his sweaty hair. Your eyes trace the fireproofs he hadn’t taken off yet, trying not to ogle the muscles under the shirt.
“Thanks, I’m pretty sure both parts of those are compliments?” your eyes snap back to his and away from his chest. You can tell from the smirk on his face, he had noticed your stare and you try your best to control your blush.
As you two stand in the corner quietly for a moment, you’re surprised when Logan’s the one to break the silence.
“Do you want to get dinner later?” Your eyebrows shoot up in shock at his confidence but they quickly settle as you smile softly.
“I’d love to.”
Logan grins once again, shoulders obviously relaxing at your response, “My phones in my room… or I’d get your number.”
You laugh slightly as he leans back against the wall behind him, his own blush covering his cheeks as you giggle.
“I’ll go with you,” you state simply, shrugging your shoulders and watching as his own eyebrows raise.
“You sure?”
You laugh as he leans closer to you, “yeah I’m sure, Logan. I’ll give you my number and you can send me dinner plans and we can have a great time. Celebrate your win.”
“I didn’t win,” Logan’s face looks somewhere between a grimace and a smile. His hands moved to wrest against his hips. Right where his race suit was also sat.
“You got points. Close enough to a win in my book,” you shrug, smiling big.
Logan laughs loudly, head leaning back against the brick wall behind him and your own laugh joins his, creating a chorus of joy that wasn’t to common on these parts of the paddock.
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll text you then. Come on, I need to shower,” he says to you, returning the previous favor by grasping your wrist in his and pulling you along to his drivers room. When he starts walking, you slide your wrist out of his grasp and intertwine your fingers instead, pretending not to see the grin that splits his face.
When you get to his room, you quickly put your number in his phone before exiting. As much as you wish you could’ve stayed, you had places to be and if you were going on a date, you'd need a few hours.
Logan texts you the minute you're in the car back to your place and you grin stupidly at the words on your screen, texting back quickly.
The date goes well, Logan being a perfect gentleman the whole time. He had picked a nice steakhouse he had no doubt been to a couple times growing up, considering you knew how he’d grown up. You had definitely not pulled his Wikipedia up the second your feet hit the floor of your room.
He sips his wine passively, much more interested in the stories you were telling about being on tour and the time one of your backup dancers had accidentally hooked up with one of the drivers. He offers to cut your steak for you and you let him, simply because none of your ex’s would have ever done something as small as that. He reads the dessert menu to you, asking the waiter for a second fork when you order the chocolate cake despite your objections about having your own slice. You both laugh but you shake your head when he offers to get a different piece. He picks up the bill despite your protests, sliding his card into the check and handing it back before you can even attempt to grab it from him. Then he walks you back to the car, arm around your shoulders as you try not to trip in your heels. When he drops you off, he moves to walk away from your doorstep but you’re quick to grasp his wrist, pulling him in and slamming the door behind the both of you.
That had been a year ago and you were still in love with Logan.
A year of Logan sneaking you in and out of the garage and a year of coincidentally scheduling tour shows to line up with race weekends. You’d released two albums about him. Not even your own manager knew who the songs were about. The only person who knew about the relationship was Lewis, who figured it out pretty quickly when you didn’t text him to get dinner that very first night. He was actually quite helpful in getting you in and out of the paddocks all across the world. He was pretty private to begin with so no one asked him many questions about where he was sneaking off to.
It’s not that you didn’t want to world to know about your relationship. It’s more that it was nice to have something you loved be private for once. Every boyfriend you’d ever had was inevitably mobbed by fans every time they stepped outside. Not that you were too empathetic. Half of your ex’s were contractually obligated to date you by your agency and the other half just sucked as people.
Logan was the first boyfriend you truly loved and got to choose to be with every day. Also, if your agency found out you’d secretly been dating someone and sneaking around for a year, you’d never hear the end of it and you’d probably get dropped for breach of contract, or whatever.
You didn’t tell anyone else on the grid. You would've but Logan dissuaded you after telling you that none of them could keep a secret for their lives.
So, the second Aimee left the room, your first calls is to Logan.
“Hey baby,” Logans voice echoes across the phone. You can hear a bit of exhaustion in his voice and recall him telling you he was about to work out, “Whats up?”
You can't help the heat that rises to your cheeks at even his simplest words, “Hey, are you free to talk?”
“Yeah, yeah, just finished working out with Benny,” He replies, and you car hear the beep of a car unlocking and the door opening before closing, “Everything okay?”
You hum, shifting in your seat, “Yeah, I'm fine. Aimee just asked if I wanted to go to the Miami gp with Ferrari.”
There's a few seconds of silence from Logans end of the phone before he responds, “Do you want to?”
“It’d be nice to go and not have to hide in the back of Mercedes,” you sigh, weighing the pros and cons, “But I don't want to go with Ferrari.”
“You can't pick the garage?”
“I’ll try but I feel like Aimee will just stick me in whatever garage she wants me in,” you sigh again, sinking dejectedly into the couch, “Not sure I'd get much of a choice.”
“I’d love to have you there,” you can hear the slight smile in his voice and you laugh warmly despite your previous annoyance.
“Ill try and convince her. I'll see you there Logan,” you smile, sitting up in your seat. You fiddle with a piece of your hair, glancing around the small room you're in. You weren't super confident you could convince Aimee but if Logan wanted you there, you'd try your hardest to get in the Williams garage.
Logan laughs, “See you there, babe. Love you.”
“Love you too,” Logan hangs up and you smile, tossing your phone down next to you. You're quick to pick it back up though, texting Aimee to ask if you can be in the Williams garage instead.
When the day of the Miami GP arrives and your stood in the Williams garage, its as much of a surprise to you as it is to everyone else. You had spent the past month trying to convince Aimee to let you sit in Williams instead of Ferrari. She had spent the past month telling you that it’d be better for your image to be in Ferrari.
You hadn't told Logan you’d be in his garage since, until that morning, you didn’t know you would be. You weren’t initially sure what made her change her mind but when you entered the garage and saw several celebrities almost more famous than yourself, it made sense. Of course she’d only agree to get you to be seen interacting with more a-listers. Jokes on her, though, because instead of staying in the garage for the next few hours, you decided to walk around. You were actually hoping to find Lewis in something other than a dark corner for once.
On the other side of the paddock, Logan had ended up in Ferraris hospitality after Oscar had dragged him along to meet up with Lando who was meeting up with Carlos who was meeting up with Charles who was meeting up with Max. So, in the end, Logan felt out of his element.
He chair sat slightly away from the others as they all talked about Miami, a place that Logan honestly didn’t have much to say about anymore. Maybe if someone asked, he’d say something. But he honestly wasn’t feeling it. He’d be more enthused if you were stood in his garage instead of Charles’, cheering him on. But, no, Aimee had you stuck in the red and yellow.
“Did you guys hear that y/n l/n is here?” A Spanish accent rings out from across the little circle of chairs, causing Logan’s head to snap up.
Lando’s head shoots up as well, eyes locking onto Carlos’, “You’re kidding! I love her!”
Carlos nods his head at the Brit, grinning widely, “Yeah, I heard some engineers talking about her earlier!”
Max snorts, shaking his head in disbelief, “If she was here, one of us would’ve seen her already. She’s not in either of our garages,” Max gestures between him and Charles who’s sat with an agreeable look on his face, nodding at Max’s words.
“I’m gonna ask around. If she’s here there’s no way I’m not giving her my number,” Lando laughs, already looking around for someone to interrogate. Logan has to hold himself back from rolling his eyes. Although it was weird Charles hadn’t seen you. Maybe he’d just left before you’d arrived.
“You sure she’s even single, mate?” Oscar asks the brunette man, laughing slightly as he turns around toward the Aussie with a smirk on his face.
“She hasn’t been seen with anyone in like a year and a half and there’s definitely no shortage of men in love with her. I’m about to jump on that before anyone else here snatches her up,” Lando laughs again, standing up from his chair quickly almost as if he’s about to sprint out but suddenly Lewis appears beside the little group, catching Lando before he can.
“What are you guys doing?” Lewis asks with a raised eyebrow, eyes surveying the group before they stop on Logan. Logan glances away from the older man quickly, choosing instead to stare at the ground.
“Talking about y/n l/n. Apparently she’s here and Landos so in love with her that he’s about to sprint out and find her. I’d want her number too but Lando seems more passionate,” Carlos laughs and Charles nods along with a grin. Lewis’ eyes land back on Logan with a small smirk gracing his features.
“Yeah but we’re not sure she’s even here, we all think she would’ve been in one of our garages if she was here,” Max continues, gesturing toward his fellow drivers. Logan has a sneaking suspicion he meant every garage beside Williams.
Logan grins again, pushing Lando softly back into his seat. Logan can feel the man’s gaze on his lowered head as he respond, “Well, she’s is here. She’s in the Williams garage.”
With that, Logan’s head snaps up to meet Lewis eyes and the eyes of all the other drivers move quickly toward Logan who’s too busy looking at Lewis to sink under their piercing gazes.
“She’s looking for you,” Lewis nods at Logan who’s quickly to stand from his seat, six pairs of eyes on his back as he turns away.
“Shit,” he mumbles under his breath as he starts to walk away from the group, his movements quickly turning into a run.
Back in the little circle, Lando sits with a pouty look on his face while everyone besides Lewis sits with incredulous looks on their faces. Lewis sits proudly, a small smirk on his face. Oscar is the one to break the silence.
“What the fuck just happened?”
Logan reaches the garage quick enough, hearing whispers of your name echo between engineers and PR workers alike, all mumbling about your surprising presence in the garage.
He jogs lightly over to Alex, slinging an arm around the taller drivers shoulders. The man turns away from the conversation he was having with Lily, furrowing an eyebrow at the weirdly exhausted American.
“What’s up mate?”
“Have you seen y/n?” Logan says through labored breaths, eyes tracing every corner of the building in search of a sign of you.
Alex shakes his head, glancing back toward his girlfriend, both with matching confused looks on their faces, “Nah mate, apparently we’ve just missed her.”
Logan groans dramatically, sliding away from Alex and moving toward the exit once again, correctly assuming you must be looking for Lewis. Alex turns back to Lily whose confusion mirrors his.
“What was that about?”
“No idea.”
Logan’s once again jogging through the paddock in search of you, praying he gets there before Lando can thoroughly weird you out or flirt enough to give you trauma.
His heads bowed to shield himself from the Miami heat so he doesn’t see himself run straight into someone. He reaches out to catch whoever he’s just thrown toward the ground and when he looks up he’s met with your pretty face. He’s honestly never been more relieved to see someone.
“Hi,” you smile softly as he leans you back to standing, arms still wrapped gently around your torso.
“Hi,” he laughs, out of breath from his jog. You both stand and stare in each others eyes for a moment, adoration in the air between you.
“That felt quite familiar,” you break the trance, laughing as his arms finally move away from you in order to keep a little decorum.
Logan barks a laugh, hand moving to run through his blonde hair as he glances toward the ground abashedly, “Yeah, except this time, you’re not pulling me into a dark corner.”
You glance around at the bustling people around you, realizing how little you cared about people seeing you interact. A weight feels like it’s been lifted off your shoulders at the fact you don’t have to hide your conversations around here anymore. It actually felt quite freeing.
“Yeah, it’s nice,” you reply, smiling as sunlight hits the side of your face, eyes not catching the loving stare Logan is sending your way as you bask in the Miami sun.
Logan grins, eventually pulling you away from the sun as he grasps your wrist. You lean into his side slightly, keeping a reasonable distance for people to think you’re just close friends. You’d already talked about how mad your agency would be if they found out you were dating. So you both agreed interactions in the paddock would be kept to platonic.
But as much as you tried to keep them so, you could only do so much. It was hard to keep the love out of your eyes as you stared at Logan, eyes tracing the side of his face. Anyone with eyes could see how gently he held you, with all the love and care in the world.
As you arrived back at the Williams garage, Logan kept walking and pulled the two of you back into his room as quietly as he could. Shutting the door gently behind him. As soon as the doors closed, your hand is wrapping around the side of his face and pulling him down to meet him in a gentle kiss.
He smiles into it, arms wrapping around your shoulders as you walk the two of you back to the couch, both flopping down onto it. You lean back against the arm rest as he lays against your chest, the exhaustion of a race weekend finally catching up with him.
“Go to sleep baby,” you say quietly, fingers carding through his sun-bleached hair, “You’ve got more than a few hours. I’ll wake you up when someone comes to get you.”
Logan hums half-heartedly, eyes already closing as he shifts to sit against you more comfortably, sleep quickly overtaking him. You scratch his head passively as he sleeps, almost petting him as if he was a golden retriever. You slide your phone open, mumbling lyrics and rhythms under your breath. You mange to type a few verses into your phone with one hand, occasionally having to pull your other hand away from his head momentarily. Every time you did, though, he’d shift in his sleep and your hand would go right back.
It’s a few hours of this before anyone comes to disrupt his nap, the door sliding open without a knock. Your eyes catch Alex’ and you quickly raise your hand with a shushing motion, gesturing down at the man sleeping on top of you. Although, Alex seems more preoccupied with your presence than Logan’s sleeping state, mouth dropping open as he takes in you and his teammates predicament.
“The team needs Logan, they’re about to start getting ready,” Alex manages to spit out, eyes still bouncing between the two of you. You nod, moving one hand to tap at Logan’s face lightly. The man groans through his tiredness, eyes cracking open slowly.
“Teams getting ready, they need you,” you smile down at him. He glances up at you with a small smile, eventually rolling off of you to stand up with a yawn.
Only then do his eyes catch on his teammate stood by the door, shock and confusion lacing his figure. Logan just waves slightly, drowsiness still fogging his mind. Alex blinks, arms frozen to his side.
When Logan grabs his stuff and steps out of the small room, stopping to give you a kiss on his way out, Alex finally snaps out of his haze.
“What the hell, man?” Alex manages to spit out.
Logan yawns as he walks by his teammate, a hand reaching up to rub the sleep out of his eyes, “Huh?”
Alex splutters through his words incredulously, “Why were you sleeping on top of y/n l/n? One of the biggest stars in the world was just hanging out in your room!?”
Logan hums, running a hand over the lines that had appeared on his face during his nap, “That’s my girl, man.”
Alex stops in his tracks, eyes wide and mouth dropped in shock, “What!?”
Logan rolls his eyes at his teammates dramatics, dragging him along next to him and also gesturing for Alex to keep his volume down, “Yeah, we’ve been together for a year and a few months.”
“Mate, what? She’s released like 3 albums in that time,” Alex starts before he seems to come to a realization, eyes snapping back to Logan again, “Oh my god, is reputation about you!?”
When Logan concedes and nods in response, a grin break out on his teammates face, “What about Lover? Or nonsense? Or espresso? Oh my god, so many of her songs must be about you!”
Logan holds back his annoyance, blaming his exasperation on his quite recent wake up call, taking a moment to remind himself that Alex was just surprised. If this had been any other day, he’d take any chance to talk about how cool you were or how much he loved you. But after everything with Landos crush and the boys thinking you’d only ever been seen in their garages, he was honestly annoyed. Not at you, of course, just at how everyone was acting without any tact.
“Yeah, come on, the team needs us,” Logan yawns, dragging his teammate down the hall, the latter still with a stupid grin on his face.
You stepped back into the garage again eventually, eyes scanning the parts of the garage you hadn’t seen before while hidden in the corners. Of course, the Williams garage was completely unfamiliar. But you hoped it wouldn’t be unfamiliar anymore after today.
You can feel the cameras and questioning glances on you, wondering why you’d be at an f1 race, let alone Williams. Everyone thought you’d be in Red Bull or Ferrari or at the least, Alpine, since several of your athlete friends had invested.
You’re not sure what the rules are for drivers going into garages that aren’t theirs but you’re ninety-nine percent sure Lando wasn’t supposed to be here. It didn’t help that he seemed to have dragged Oscar, Max and Charles along with him.
“Oh my god, y/n l/n!” You hear the Brit call out first, giddiness lacing his words. You glance over to see the four drivers approaching, turning your gaze back to the team momentarily to check if this was allowed. There’s uneasy looks on their faces but none of them move to kick them out so you turn back to the quartet.
“Hi?” You smile with a raised eyebrow and you swear you see Lando blush. Oscar rolls his eyes as the older driver starts dramatically fanning himself.
Charles is the first person to respond normally, sticking out his hand as he leans toward you, “It’s nice to meet you, we’re big fans. Some of us obviously more than others.”
You laugh as Charles side-eyes Lando who responds by sticking his tongue out. Their interactions made sense considering you were pretty sure half of them never graduated high school. You reach out and shake Charles’ hand before dropping it as Max reaches out his own.
“I’m Max, not sure how much you know about F1,” Max states, tilting his head. If only he knew just how many races you'd been to.
You nod your head with a small smile, ignoring the way Lando is staring with a dopey look on his face, “Yeah, yeah, I've actually watched a lot of races, so I've seen you win a lot haha.”
Max smirks slightly, shaking his head. Lando frowns as Oscar elbows him and mumbles something under his breath, “She’s never seen you win, mate.”
Your head snaps toward the drivers in papaya as Lando practically tackles Oscar, putting the Aussie in a headlock. You tilt your head toward Charles who’s watching with a frown but makes no effort to separate the pair, “This happen a lot?”
He hums, nodding his head, not taking his gaze away from the thing 1 and thing 2 now on the ground in front of you, “Yeah, they’re like puppies, got to let them get their energy out somehow. No ones been seriously maimed. Yet.”
You snort, finally looking away from the idiots as you hear someone walk up behind you, Charles and Max, the latter turning around as well.
“What the hell are you guys doing?” The commanding voice of the Williams team principal rings out, causing the two mclarens to halt their movements, immediately separating as they stand up.
James surveys the little group for a few moments and you look over his shoulder, catching a glimpse of blond hair before it disappears.
“Now,” James starts, scanning the drivers in front of him, all in varying colors of team shirts, “I could probably get you all in trouble for being in my garage but since I’ve heard a lot of excitement about our guest today, I’ll let it slide.”
You looks back to the man in front of you when you hear a mention of yourself, skin heating as several pairs of eyes all look to you. You look away and back to where you’d seen Logan, hoping for a quick escape. You find him but you watch as he makes eye contact with Lando before turning away as quick as he can. Lando, on the other hand, shoots a hand out to point at the driver, moving forward toward him.
“Logan!” He yells as the aforementioned driver turns away, making himself busy with pretending to be helping Alex, “I need to know what he did to get you in his garage!”
Lando gestures at you before moving to walk past you. He only makes it a few steps before James is stepping in front of him, pushing the lighter man back slightly, “I actually believe you will all be going back to your own garages, yes? It’s almost time for the race.”
Lando frowns with a suspicious look on his face, planting his feet firmly in the ground beneath him as if challenging James to move him. Oscar rolls his eyes before grabbing the brunettes wrist and dragging him out of the room, waving slightly at Logan as he exits.
Charles and Max both wave at you as they leave but Max is the one calling out, “Nice to meet you, y/n.”
You smile at the pair, waving them goodbye. You sigh as you turn around, tiredness filling your face. James stops you before you can stalk off to your seat for the race, hands grasping your shoulders lightly.
“It’s nice to finally meet my drivers girlfriend,” there’s a knowing look on the man’s face and you open your mouth to respond but he beats you to it, “He didn’t tell me. But I saw you two in the hall earlier, the boy had love written on his face, it would’ve been hard to miss.”
You blush, looking down toward the ground with a smile, “Thanks Mr Vowles, it’s nice to meet you as well.”
James laughs, ruffling your hair as he leans away, “Have a fun day, kid. Maybe you’re his lucky charm. And you can call me James.”
You smile as you walk away, smoothing your hair back to place. You weren’t too annoyed by the antics since it was pretty windy anyway, your hair had already been going wild.
“Thanks, James. Good luck, today.”
He just nods in response before slipping away, no doubt to get ready for the race. You turn to talk to Logan but he’s already been swept up in the chaos of the pre-race so you leave him to it, finally making it to your designated seat for the day.
It’s not long before it’s lights out and away we go.
P3. P fucking 3. Logan had just gotten a podium.
You don’t think you’d ever screamed as loud as you had when he crossed the line. Luckily, Alex’ girlfriend, Lily seems just as excited as you, jumping up and down as the team celebrated around you. Fortunately, Alex had had a good race as well, finishing in fifth.
You didn’t bother wiping the tears that were falling from your eyes, too busy trying not to fall over in your expensive heels as Lily dragged you to where the team was meeting at the barriers. Sun shines brightly down on you all, painting your faces with a warming light. Williams employees revel in joy from all around you, pure happiness gracing their usually joy-deprived faces.
The crowd seems to part as you and Lily make your way to the barriers, grasping at each other tightly, trying to make sure this was all real.
Tears stream down your face, no doubt taking your mascara with them. You have to gasp for air more than a couple times, pure elation taking over your breath. You watch as the blue car rolls in front of you, slowing to a stop. Lily hugs your arm tightly, already having heard about your relationship from Alex. You see Alex’ car out of the corner of your eye but you’re too busy trying not to collapse.
Logan steps out of the car, hands visibly shaking. You can practically see the smile through his helmet as he stands on the nose of his car, the crowds of Miami cheering for their hometown hero.
He jumps down and moves to take off his helmet, gloves coming off with them. He glances around at the crowd above him, taking in the moment he gets to be the hero for once, gets to be revered. But his eyes do move away, tracing the crowd for his team.
When his eyes land on yours, another tear slides down your face and drops off into the warm concrete below you. His grin in that moment could move mountains, filled with enough pure joy to heal any aches and pains you’ve ever felt. You can’t look away from his child-like joy, having never seen him this happy in your entire year of dating. His eyes widen with a warmth you wish you could find a way to stay in forever, almost rivaling the warmth of the Miami sun.
Someone from race control tries to get him to go get weighed but he’s dropping his helmet before taking off in a run. He reaches you and before you can even say a word, he’s grasping your face in his hands and leaning down to put his lips against yours, melting into your embrace.
Screams echo around you but all you can hear is the words Logan whispers as he breaks away, leaning his forehead against yours, “I did it, baby.”
You laugh, leaning toward him as he reaches a hand up and wipes away your tears, “Yeah, you did. I’m so proud of you!”
Logan smiles, closing his eyes momentarily to take in the love between you, “Thank you for coming, I love you so much, baby.”
You tilt his head up to catch his lips in another searing kiss, hoping he can feel just how proud and in love with him you are, “I love you too, so, so much.”
You’re both just grasping at each other, praying to be able to simply hold each other for as long as you can before someone pulls him away. Unfortunately, that comes sooner than you’d hoped as someone from race control pulls him away to get weighed. You finally break from the trance he’d put you in, looking around to see Charles and Max staring at Logan as he walks in front of them, glances shared between the pair in p1 and p2.
Lily wraps an arm around you as Alex walks away from her as well and you lean your head on your shoulder, watching as your boyfriends talk after getting weighed, obvious congratulations and pats on the back being shared between the two.
You knew this would make Aimee mad, but you honestly couldn’t find it in yourself to care. You were too busy being young and in love. You could always find a different agency, you were in high demand after all.
Logan’s stood to the side with Alex when Lando walks up, eyebrows furrowed deeply as he surveys the Williams drivers.
“What the hell was that, mate?” Lando calls out to Logan, confusion creeping through his outward disapproval.
Logan laughs at the Brits face, sensing a bit of disappointment in the McLaren drivers demeanor, “The podium?”
Lando rolls his eyes, running a hand through his curls, “You know that’s not what I meant.”
Logan laughs again as Alex throws his arm over the younger drivers shoulder, preparing to steer the two of them to interviews, “Just kissing my girlfriend, mate. Nothing else to it.”
Lando seems to be even more confused as the Williams drivers walk away, although he does eventually manage to shout out a final sentence, “How’d you manage that!?”
Logan practically cackles as Alex snorts, knowing as much as he did that it was a miracle he had pulled you, “I’m not sure either!”
They do eventually make it to interviews and then podium, Logan sending a heart down at you with his hands before Charles and Max turn to him, champagne in hand. Logan stands there and takes it, Miami sunlight bounces off the rivulets of alcohol that cascade across his tanned skin, still hot with the warmth that had infected him during the race.
The next morning, you don’t remember much from the night before. You had gone out to celebrate with Logan and of course, it was Miami and you were known so it wasn’t too hard to find the best spots. Drinks flowed and music pumped and you’re pretty sure you were hanging out with pitbull at one point.
Logan was still asleep in your bed in your Miami home, shirt missing and a distinct smell of beer sticking to his skin. His hair was ruffled and random pieces of glitter floated around his skin. His shins were hanging off the edge of the bed and random marks littered his exposed back, scratches and bruises, no doubt your fault, painting his usually blank skin with hues of red and purple. You’re not sure if you’ve ever been more in love with him.
You slide from the bed quietly, moving toward your guitar as a sudden bout of lyrics plagues your mind, begging to be released. You strum passively as you sit out on your balcony, humming lyrics under your breath as Logan remains asleep soundly in your bedroom.
“Said it’s still reserved for me … who are we.. fight the alchemy?”
A month later, Logan’s entering the paddock, his phone clutched tightly in his hand and headphone covering his ears. He’s making his way to his garage when he’s suddenly bombarded by the same five drivers from Miami, all talking over each other.
“Calm down, one at a time, please,” Logan sighs, waiting for them to quit speaking at the same time. They all stop, Carlos being the one to speak first.
“Have you heard the new y/n song?” Carlos asks, eyes raised widely. Logan laughs as he asks it, sliding his phone open to Spotify, proudly showcasing your new song playing on loop.
The Alchemy - y/n l/n
Logan slides his phone in his pocket, walking away before Lando can wax poetic about you or complain about Logan stealing you away from him. Logan glances back to see Oscar covering Landos ears as the song starts to play from a nearby speaker. Logan laughs as Charles, max and Carlos do the opposite of helping by deciding to sing it loudly in the Mclaren boys face.
Alex watches his teammate walk up, pulling off his headphones to find the song also playing the garage. Alex laughs, leaning his head back in content, basking in the pure happiness radiating through the atmosphere this weekend.
“Good song,” Alex hums, cracking an eye open to see a wide grin split the younger man’s face.
“Thanks man, it’s about me.”
Alex laughs, leaning back against the chair he was sitting in, watching as Logan sways to the song, lips moving to the words no one else had had time to learn yet.
Alex closes his eyes again, letting the rhythm of the song and Logan’s hums take over his hearing. He wasn’t sure about your relationship at first but he honestly hoped you’d stay together just so he could see Logan this happy every weekend.
You, on the other side of the world, were listening to the song at the very same time, singing the lyrics to yourself and dancing to a song Logan had been hearing for the past month non-stop.
As you danced along, you just knew Logan was out there somewhere, dancing with you.
———————————————
Tags: @casperlikej @evie-119
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mymyapplesigh · 2 months
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Work Me Out (Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Reader)
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Summary: Being the daughter of Aphrodite you mostly just sat there and looked pretty. Seeing your girlfriend work out did something to you.
Cw: sweat, watching a workout, kissing/light make out
All youre life youve been told that you didnt need to have muscles because you were too pretty to be muscular. Youve seen people work out sure, but youre girlfriend in just a sports bra and shorts was a different type of pretty.
Tying your hair up and putting on a few more layers of setting powder you stepped out of your cabin.
Going to the training spot Clarisse usually always was you picked up your speed wanting to see her. After a moment you finally arrived just to find out she wasnt there but her 11 year old brother was.
“Matty, have you seen Clarisse?” you questioned the short boy as he put down his dagger after brutally slashing the poor dummy.
“Ya shes in the gym area working out.” He replied to you out of breath from his training.
After smiling at his response you headed to the gym area.
Opening the doors you were hit with the smell of sweat and your girlfriend shining with sweat in only a sports bra and shorts. Her long curls were pulled into a messy ponytail. She was currently doing pull ups using a bar and showing off her abs and toned arms. You swallowed thickly never seeing anything as hot as this.
After doing 3 more pull ups she jumped down the bar and released a held in breath. She then finally noticed you.
“Hey ma, when did you get here?” She asked you while out of breath. After reaching for her towel to get rid of the sweat building on her forehead she placed a hand on your hip.
“Just a second ago actually.” You answered her honestly.
She hummed in reply and pressed a small kiss on your glossed lips. You felt your stomach doing flips.
“I gotta finish a few more of these routines and then my attention is fully on you baby I promise.”
You shake with anticipation as you finally sat down to watch her.
She started doing more workouts and you kept admiring her muscles. She knew exactly what she was doing. Her muscles were her biggest show off and she knew exactly how she was making you feel.
After she was finally done she came up to you again.
“I know you enjoyed every part in that.” She then kissed you again catching you off guard which made you gasp. She took that opportunity to slide her tongue into your mouth. After a second of making out she separated you guys.
“You can watch me take a shower next if you want stalker” ya she knew exactly what she was doing.
Hey Guy ! Request what you wanna see in a fanfic and ill write it lowkey !
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mypoisonedvine · 8 months
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𝘄𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗵𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗲𝗻𝘀 𝗶𝗻 𝗯𝗼𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗻 | joel miller x reader x emmett
𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | the last thing you wanted to do was make emmett jealous, or question your loyalty to him; but as it turns out, he may be a little more supportive than you expected when he catches you looking at joel miller.
𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 | 7.1k
𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | smut - 18+ only (threesome, established relationship, sharing/hotwife kink, daddy kink, oral m and f receiving, anal and DP, creampie, light choking, overstimulation/multiple orgasms, some very gentle/mild degradation, tons and tons of praise), implied age gap (not specified, obviously reader is an adult), takes place in the last of us universe but pretty much porn without plot lol so don't overthink it
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In the last year of traveling with Emmett, you’d mostly avoided the QZs.  He said that the people there were cheats and liars at best— and that’s to say nothing of the corrupt military leaders that actually ran the place.  However, desperation puts people into positions they never expected to be. 
After all, you would’ve never imagined being with a man like him, though in this case you meant it in a good way— that you never thought someone as brave and resourceful as him would want somebody like you.
But, that said, you made yourself useful when you could.  The best thing you could offer was your medical knowledge, and you were always the one tending to Emmett after injuries or illness.  Still, he promised that he loved you for who you were, not what you could do for him.  He was shockingly gentle, and passionate, especially for someone who had been forced to be rather ruthless to survive in this new world.
So, while you had been avoiding the quarantined areas and sticking to abandoned strips of forest and city, a lack of food out there forced you to venture to Boston— or, what was left of it.
Fortunately, you'd found more hospitality here than you expected.  Maybe it was just pity— and wanting some more of that ammo Emmett had sold him— but a man named Joel Miller had given you a place to stay and helped you earn some rations here so you could finally eat.  He reminded you of Emmett in some ways: stoic, hardworking, and generous beneath that hardened exterior.  But Emmett had become much more sensitive and open with you in your time together, and Joel was all but a stranger.  Sometimes he was so stern that he almost seemed irritated with you, but he kept letting you and Emmett stay, so he must not have been too annoyed by you.
And, you helped him how you could— like when he was in yours and Emmett’s room, sitting in the chair and talking to Emmett about something to do with tomorrow’s open jobs, and you noticed a cut across his palm.
“I-I can help with that,” you offered softly, motioning to the injury.  “Do you want me to bandage it for you?”
“It’s not that bad,” Joel shook his head.
“It’s easier to clean it now than worry about an infection later,” you reminded him.
Though he seemed a little tense, glancing at Emmett for a moment, he relented with a nod.  You smiled lightly as you stepped forward and knelt by Joel’s feet, picking up his hand and examining the cut.
Once you figured what it needed, you quickly hopped up to rifle through your bag, bringing back a disinfectant wipe and a roll of gauze.  Holding his hand open— and feeling a little flustered from touching his warm, rough skin— you carefully wiped up the cut.  “Does it hurt at all?” you asked him.
“Not too bad,” he replied lowly.
“You should see Emmett when I’ve gotta wrap him up,” you giggled, “he always acts like what I’m doing hurts more than when he actually got the injury in the first place.”
“Hey,” Emmett warned you in a stern voice, but you smiled up at Joel who returned with a small smirk.
“Alright, all better,” you hummed as you finished bandaging Joel.  “Let me know if it’s hurting you too much, that’s a bad sign.  Don’t just ignore it and act tough, okay?”
Joel seemed a little uncomfortable— if not sort of amused by— taking orders from you, but he nodded.  “I’ll let y’all get to bed now,” he decided as he stood up.  “Sleep well.  Lot of work to be done in the morning.”
“G’night,” Emmett offered him with a nod.
You felt a little strange, him standing up fully while you were still on your knees on the floor.  “Goodnight, Joel,” you said, your voice sounding sweeter and girlier than you intended.  Your face felt warm— you worried Emmett had noticed the change in your voice, too, but would he think much of it if he had?  
Thankfully, he didn’t say anything about it that night, simply pulling you close when you got into bed, burying his face in your neck.
But the next night, that was a different story.  You weren’t actually going to sleep yet, even though it was late enough for it— he’d already changed into an old t-shirt and pajama pants, while you were still in your dress, but he’d laid back on top of the sheets and patted the bed, silently asking you to join him.  You smiled and obeyed, of course, leaving the lamp on as you slipped in by his side.
Emmett held you gently, rubbing your back as you laid your head on his chest.  “You’re not too tired, are you?” he asked quietly.
For what? you wondered, but just shook your head instead.
“We can stay up a little longer,” he decided.  “Didn’t get a chance to hold you all day.”
“Yeah,” you sighed wistfully, nuzzling in more as you squeezed his torso a bit.
“Or talk to you much,” he continued.
“Was there something you wanted to talk about?” you asked, looking up at him from your head’s happy place on his shoulder.
“Just something I noticed,” Emmett replied, looking back at you sweetly as he brushed your hair aside with his fingers.  "I think you've got a crush on Joel."
You froze, face getting warm in an instant.  "I-I only want you, Emmett, I swear— you know I would never—"
"Shh, shh," he soothed as he chuckled a little, "it's okay, baby.  I'm not angry with you… you're not doin' anything wrong."
"Really?" you asked nervously, and he nodded.  "I thought you might be jealous…"
He shook his head and laughed a little.
"I-I just think he's handsome," you explained, "and sort of nice— but that's really it!"
"It's alright, baby," he purred, "cause you know something?  I was talking to him earlier today, and he wants you too."
Your sat up and your eyes went wide as you tried to imagine that conversation.  You could hardly believe that that was true, let alone that Joel has admitted it to Emmett… or had Joel approached Emmett about it, asking for a night with you?  Oh god, your head already hurt trying to wrap itself around this…
"I know how hard it is to keep a naughty little thing like you satisfied," Emmett explained with a smirk, sitting up with you and speaking softly beside your ear.  “I'm willing to bring in a little… outside help."
Just then, the door opened slowly and Joel stepped inside.  You watched him, totally unsure how to feel, as he shut the door behind himself, and then his eyes met yours.
"C'mere," Emmett offered to Joel, patting the bed beside you two.  "No need to be shy, Miller."
You watched as Joel took a seat on the bed, and you looked at Emmett as you lowered your voice.  "You don't have to do this for me," you promised him softly.  "You know I love you— I only need you—"
"It's okay," he soothed as he pet your face.  "I told you, I'm not angry.  I want you to do this."
"You… want me to?"
"If you want it," Emmett replied.
You shivered as Joel leaned forward a bit, reaching out to gently rub up and down your leg.  "What do you think, princess?" he asked softly.  "Don't worry, you're not gonna hurt my feelings if you say you don't wanna—"
"I want to," you admitted quickly, afraid to lose your courage if you waited any longer to say it.
Both men smiled at you as you looked back and forth between them; Joel's warm brown eyes against Emmett's steely blue ones… they were so similar, and so opposite, in so many impossible ways.
Without saying anything, Joel suddenly lifted your chin and guided you into a kiss.
You felt strange kissing someone other than Emmett, something you hadn't done in quite some time.  Joel's lips weren't as soft as Emmett's, and his kiss wasn't as gentle; he moved his hand to the back of your neck to hold you close, gently pressing his tongue into your mouth.  It wasn't too aggressive or anything, but it was certainly quite forward.  Emmett's hands were still on you, gently rubbing your back, and you reached back to find and hold one just as your other arm wrapped around Joel's broad shoulders.
Joel made you gasp by breaking away to kiss at your neck instead; you squeezed Emmett's hand slightly.  "Fuck, she sounds so pretty," Joel noticed when you moaned at his teeth teasing your pulse.
"Yeah," Emmett agreed.  "She can get loud, too, so let's just hope she doesn't wake anybody up…"
Joel pulled your hand away from Emmett's and guided it to the bulge in his jeans; you sighed as you felt it, a hot feeling stirring in your chest.  "See how you got me all worked up already?" he scolded you playfully.  "C'mon and take it out for me."
Your hands were shaking more than you realized when you brought them to unfasten his belt… it felt new, and exhilarating, and a little scary as well, to be with someone new after so long.  But you remembered when it was new with Emmett and it felt like this, exciting and weird and wonderful all at the same time.  But you'd known Emmett longer before anything happened between you— you'd only met Joel a few days ago.
Joel exhaled sharply through his nose when you reached into his boxers and wrapped your fingers around his erection.  It was so hot to the touch, you were worried your fingers felt cold to him, but he didn't seem to mind much.  You shuddered as you released it from the fabric, your mouth falling slack and your hand instinctively beginning to stroke it gently.
Joel's cock wasn't as long as Emmett's, but it was thicker, with a slight curve to one side.  Regardless of exactly what it looked like, you were just amazed to see and stroke another cock but Emmett's— it had been so long, and you hadn't been with all too many people before Emmett anyways.
"Show him what you can do, baby," Emmett encouraged in a low voice, and you nodded as you leaned down to capture Joel's cock between your lips. 
He hummed as you licked and sucked the tip, swirling your tongue over the head.  But he groaned aloud when you dipped lower and took as much as you could into your mouth, letting the tip of his cock bump into the back of your throat.
Then you set your pace, hollowing your cheeks and slowly moving up and down on his length.  Your jaw ached slightly already and you'd only just started.
You felt Joel's hand on the back of your head, not pushing you down but just guiding you in your movements.
"Mm," Joel praised with a grunt.  "Your girl's got a sweet fuckin' mouth, Emmett…"
"Yeah," he agreed, "and she loves using it— gets her so wet, feel it."
You whimpered slightly as Joel reached back over you and pulled up your dress, slipping a hand inside your panties.  His fingers curled through your lips, even toying with your swollen clit for a moment, and you moaned around the thick cock in your mouth.
"Damn," Joel chuckled, "she's soaked."
You broke away from Joel and turned around, looking at Emmett expectantly as you sat on the bed.  "Can I suck you too?  Please?"
Joel chuckled a little as Emmett nodded, letting you pull his pajama pants down as his hard cock bounced free.  It was nice to get back to what you knew for a moment, and you didn't hesitate at all to take hold of him and lick a long stripe up his shaft.
Joel took the opportunity while you were facing away from him to toss up your dress and pull your panties down; he purred at the way the fabric stuck to your pussy, peeling off slowly with all the wetness there.  "Fuckin' gorgeous," Joel groaned as he got a good look at it.  
Two thick fingers rubbed over your clit until your toes curled; putting your head down in Emmett's lap to suck him sort of forced your hips up, nearly at eye-level with Joel, and feeling him explore you so gently made you feel exposed in the best way.
He slid one finger into your hole, just one, and you clenched down on him.  "Damn," Joel groaned.  "I don't know how you find the energy to do anything but fill this pretty little pussy of hers, Emmett."
But Emmett wasn't really paying attention to him— he was watching you with heavy eyes and a slack mouth, petting your hair as you bobbed your head on his cock.
"Just like that," Emmett praised you quietly.  When you moaned around him in response, it turned into a muffled cry as Joel suddenly took his finger out of you and replaced it with his tongue.  His hands held your ass and kept you spread wide for him, burying his face in your pussy and tasting everything his tongue could reach… which was a lot.  Your whole body quivered when he licked a long stripe up from the base of your clit all the way up, higher and higher, even running over that hole as you shuddered.  
Your moans vibrated through Emmett's cock and his hand in your hair tightened into a fist and tugged on you a bit.  "Fuck," Joel moaned against your soaking folds, "tastes even better than it looks."
"Feels even better than it tastes," Emmett promised with a smile, though he snarled as he pulled your head off of him by your hair and guided you into a rough, dominating kiss.  He all but threw you back towards Joel, and you were sort of dazed and moving on instinct as Joel turned you around to face him.
But as you leaned down to suck Joel's cock again, he stopped you with a hand around your neck.  "Taste yourself first," he ordered before he kissed you, diving his tongue right into your open mouth as you whined at the tangy flavor of your arousal coating his lips.  
He pulled you back from the kiss with a growl, holding your hair and examining your face— you must have looked fucked out already, panting through your mouth and looking at him as you waited for your next instruction.
“Was she always this desperate?” Joel asked Emmett, though he was still looking at you. “Or did you train her?”
“A little of column A, a little of column B,” Emmett replied with a light chuckle.
He shoved your head back down into his lap, guiding his cock to your waiting lips and groaning when you swallowed it down.  “Good fucking girl,” he praised.  “So fuckin’ dirty— damn, that tongue…”
You gagged harder on Joel’s cock when you felt Emmett toying with your clit, teasing you with slow and delicate circles that made your toes curl.  “Wanna fuck her?” Emmett asked Joel simply; your hole pulsed in anticipation.  The way they talked over you, like you weren’t even there, was sort of irritating: but it made you so desperate, and you couldn’t even figure out why.
Joel just laughed.  “Are you kidding?” he wondered.
It was Emmett’s hand that pulled you off of Joel’s cock, but Joel grabbed your neck— not too tightly, just enough to make you let a whimper out of your open mouth— and flared his nostrils as he stared closely at your face.
“Get on your hands and knees for me,” he ordered firmly, and you nodded right away.  They both let you go and you took the position, feeling a little shy again suddenly— like you had any right to be shy now.  You faced Emmett, your hands on either side of his lap as he sat up on the bed, and he reached up to hold your face as you heard Joel get up and kneel behind you.
He teased you by running the head through your folds a few times, your lip catching between your teeth as the tip bumped against your swollen clit.  Emmett studied your face closely, watching your mouth go slack and your brows knit together as Joel pushed just barely inside you.
And then you cried out, far too loud, because he shoved the rest of the way in at once.  "Shit," Joel hissed, "fuckin' tight little thing.  Fuck."
You could feel his gaze on your hole, no doubt watching himself split you open so wide, when his hands spread your ass open again for a better view.
“Prettiest fuckin’ pussy,” Joel awarded it with a sigh.  “Fuck, feel how good you fuckin’ take that?  Feel how easy this big cock slides right into ya?  Such a sweet little girl…”
Easy was one way to describe it— and yes, you were wet enough that he hardly had any resistance— but it felt like too much to really be easy.  You fluttered your eyes open, not even noticing that you’d shut them, and found Emmett’s gaze still on you.  How was it possible that he was looking at you with so much pride in his eyes?  You bit your lip and returned his stare, whimpering each time Joel thrusted roughly into you.  
"How's it feel, baby?" Emmett asked you as he gently stroked your cheek.
You choked a little, not sure you could find the words for it.  "Different," you managed to blurt out, and both men chuckled a little.
"Yeah, bet it is different," Joel agreed, "don't think I'm gonna be as sweet with'ya as your old man here usually is."
Well, fair enough: Joel wasn't in love with you, so why should he treat you the same?  Actually, your thighs shook a little as you thought about that… Joel just wanted to use you, fuck you like a toy and toss you back to Emmett when he was done.  It should've been demeaning, but it made your back arch a little deeper.
"Yeah, fuck," Joel praised, "she likes that.  Wants me to fuck her harder, I can tell."
“Then do it,” Emmett instructed him.
Joel gripped your hips tightly and slammed into you, making you choke on your own cry.  “F-fuck—” you stammered, suddenly gripping Emmett’s shoulders for stability.
“God,” Joel choked behind you; you could feel the bandage you’d given him as his hands held onto your hips, keeping you steady so he could pump into you as hard and fast as he liked.
You whined and dropped your head on Emmett’s shoulder, hearing him gently soothe you as each thrust rocked you forward into him.  “Takin’ it so well,” he praised softly, “that’s my girl…”
Emmett started to push your dress down your arms and chest, exposing your tits for his big hands to rub slowly; Joel reached around and felt them too— and four hands on you felt like more than you could keep track of.  A hand running up your thighs, squeezing your ass, teasing your tits, even wrapping around your throat and threatening to tighten… you were overwhelmed, in the best way.
"God, she's so perfect," Joel breathed.  "Can't believe you let me borrow her."
"Just don't come inside her," Emmett instructed, "that's just for me."
"Fuck, I don't mind," Joel grunted, "think I'll like painting that pretty face…"
��She swallows, too,” Emmett smiled, “if you like that.”
“Like it?  Fuck,” Joel laughed, “that’s fucking hot.”
“E-Emmett,” you whimpered in protest, “I never… I’ve never done that for anybody but you…”
“Well, it’s not so different for anybody else,” Emmett assured you with a chuckle.  “You’ll swallow his come if I tell you to, won’tcha?”
You bit your lip and nodded.
“Good girl.”
That was all you really wanted— to be good for him.  And you felt your chest fill with pride knowing he was happy with you now, even if you’d never expected this to make him happy.  He could be very protective of you, and you assumed he would never want another man to lay a hand on you— he’d killed men for less, actually.  But you realized that there was a massive difference: those men had threatened to hurt you, had scared you, had tried to take you from him.  Joel was the first man other than Emmett that you’d trusted, let alone shown any interest in.  Emmett was too busy fighting off creeps to mention that he didn’t actually mind good guys getting a chance with you, apparently.
Joel kneaded a handful of your ass roughly, and you whimpered when you felt one of his fingertips start to rub gently against your other hole.  “What about this hole?” he asked with a groan.  “This just for you, too?”
Emmett grinned a bit.  “She’s only done that a few times… what do you think, baby, wanna let Joel try your ass?”
It was already quite an ordeal to get Emmett to fit in there, and you whined just imagining Joel trying to fit that thick cock in your ass— “Oh my god, she just got so fucking wet,” Joel noticed.  Clearly, imagining it was having some effect on you.  “Think she wants it— don’t ya, sweet girl?”
Though your cheeks burned with shame, you nodded, and both men chuckled darkly.  “Warm her up first,” Emmett suggested.
“Of course,” Joel agreed, “wouldn’t wanna break your toy.”
You moaned just from him saying that, before he’d even started to gently press his finger inside you.  He spit right down onto it as he slid the digit inside, making you clench around him— both ways.  He hummed lowly, twisting and curling the finger into you, still fucking your pussy (though slower than before, thank god).
You gasped as a second finger carefully slid in, almost pushing you too far and making you wince slightly— but Emmett soothed you and kissed the side of your face, rubbing your back to help keep you relaxed.  “You can take it,” Emmett promised, “be my good girl, okay?  Let him get you ready.”
You nodded and clung tighter to Emmett, moaning when Joel twisted his fingers around and even curled them a bit inside you.  “Not too much, is it?” Joel wondered when you whined loudly.
“No, she’s tougher than she looks,” Emmett answered— you sort of thought that question was for you, but you were too desperate to answer properly anyways.
Joel could pump those fingers in and out of you now, picking up the pace slightly to match the way he thrust his cock into your cunt, but when he tried to spread them a little wider he didn’t have much luck.  “Still too tight, I think,” Joel noticed with a laugh.  “Y’sure she can get stretched out enough for it?”
“Yeah,” Emmett promised, “I can help, hold on—”
He brought two fingers to your open mouth; you sucked on them instinctively, shutting your eyes and moving your head forward to swallow them as deep as you could.  What Joel said before suddenly made sense— he really did have you trained.
You bobbed and suckled on Emmett’s long fingers, hearing him whisper his praises to you before he suddenly pulled them out— your open mouth chased after them for a second, and Joel seemed to notice with a small, condescending laugh— and reached over your back, pushing the slick fingers into your hole right beside Joel’s.
“Fuck!” you yelped at the feeling, legs shaking as you realized you’d never been this full: a cock and four fingers, it was more than you’d ever imagined.
Joel groaned a little, picking up the pace of his thrusts into your pussy again, and you did your best to breathe steady as those fingers pumped in and out of you.  You couldn’t deny the way it turned you on— none of you could, you could hear it as Joel fucked you slowly.  “She’s fuckin’ dripping, Emmett,” Joel noticed with a sigh, “she really likes this little ass played with, huh?”
Emmett laughed and nodded in agreement.  “She likes doing what she’s told,” he clarified.
“Such a good little slut,” Joel praised, and you whimpered before Emmett kissed you again.
They continued that way until you worried you’d start begging for a cock in your ass if they made you wait anymore— thankfully, they didn’t make you embarrass yourself like that, Emmett felt with his fingers and saw in your eyes that you were ready.  Pulling his fingers out of you, he glanced at Joel behind you: “Go ahead,” he offered simply.
Joel’s fingers left your ass, too, and you felt empty there but different— when his cock slipped from your cunt, you gasped a little at having nothing inside you for the first time in a while, and you glanced back at him.  “Yeah,” Joel encouraged, “keep lookin’ back at me while I put my cock in your ass.”
You felt a little awkward doing that, but you did it anyways, biting your lip as he met your gaze and lined up his thick head with your stretched ass.  He was still soaked from being in your pussy, and your ass was pretty much dripping with spit now, so he didn’t have too much trouble pushing into your puckered hole— but it was still tight, and you still winced (but kept your eyes on him, of course).
Even with all that prep, you shuddered and whined as Joel slowly slid into your ass— he savored every inch, licking his lips and groaning as he stretched you wider and wider.  He seemed to just get thicker, even at the very base of him, and your eyes rolled back when he was seated in you all the way.  And then he punched his hips just that little bit more, apparently intent on burying himself in you as far as humanly possible; you gasped and hugged Emmett tighter, turning your head towards him again but shutting your eyes tight from the sting of the stretch.  
“God fucking damn,” Joel moaned, digging his fingers into the skin of your hips, clearly trying to control himself.  “Fuck, Emmett, you’ve really got yourself such a perfect little fucktoy— where’d you find her?”
Emmett smiled wide, stroking your hair and looking at your face— painted with filthy pleasure— tenderly.  “She found me,” he answered.  “Still got no fuckin’ idea how I got so lucky.”
Joel started to move, making you tighten your hands into weak fists, and set a careful pace that gave you some time to adjust… even if not quite as much as you would’ve wanted.
A sudden, sharp thrust nearly knocked you forward— thankfully Emmett was there to catch you— and you moaned loudly.  Emmett laid down slightly, letting you lay on top of him and hide your face in his chest.  “That’s my girl,” he praised quietly.
As Joel’s movements sped up a little more, he sighed, seeming to find a comfortable pace (for him, at least) as you forced yourself not to tense up: it didn’t hurt, but it was certainly an intense feeling, especially when you felt Joel’s heavy balls slap against your dripping pussy.
"This'll be better than coming on your face," Joel grinned.  "Filling up this tight ass, fuck, you're so dirty, baby…"
You felt someone move your hips down a bit, changing the angle of it all, but you were too lost in it to even know who it was.  Emmett kissed your neck, teeth teasing your pulse, and you whined— you would beg him to bite you and leave a mark that everyone could see, if you could speak at all right now.
Your legs ended up straddling Emmett’s lap, and you gasped when you felt his cock press against your pussy— you'd been too distracted to even notice him taking it out— and he cooed at you sweetly.  "You can take both, right?" he asked quietly.  "You've always got room for me, don't you?"
Though you were still intimidated by the idea, you nodded as you bit your lip.
"That's my girl," Emmett praised, grabbing your hips and pulling you down onto his cock.
You almost screamed at the feeling of being so full, digging your fingers into Emmett’s shoulders.  He looked up at you with eager eyes, watching you struggle to take them both— but you eventually relaxed enough to sink down and fit them both to the hilt.
“Good fucking girl,” Joel praised with a groan, holding on tight to your hips as he started to move again slowly— as for Emmett, his hands moved from your waist to your head to guide you into a sloppy, needy kiss.
Your moans were loud yet weak, your shaky hands clutching at Emmett desperately as they both pumped into you.  Joel seemed almost overwhelmed by it, too, leaning down over you, growling and biting at your neck and shoulder. 
“F-fuck, dunno how long I can last like this,” Joel admitted, “so fucking tight…”
You jumped slightly when one of Joel's rough hands reached around your hips and slid down to your clit, rubbing at the bud until you jerked back from the sudden intense sensation.
"Just wanna feel you come first, princess," he explained with a purr.
“A-ah, fuck,” you whimpered, shaking all over as you tried to process all that you were feeling.  They moved you around how they wanted you, and at some point Emmett was sitting up and holding you in his lap while Joel kept thrusting into your ass from behind while holding your shoulder— how were you supposed to keep track of all the anatomy of this, while you had two big cocks stretching you open and Joel’s rough, experienced fingers on your clit.
Emmett moaned against your skin as he kept sucking on your neck, meanwhile Joel was speaking gruffly by your ear, sending chills up your spine.  “Can you come, princess?” he asked darkly.  “‘Round both our cocks?”
“Yes,” you admitted in a gasp, “fuck— Emmett, can I come?”
He smiled against your neck; “Of course, babydoll,” he breathed.  “Let’s show Joel how much you love bein’ fucked like a whore.”
You wrapped your arms around Emmett’s neck, dropping your head limply back on Joel’s shoulder as the feeling washed over you: you tightened up everywhere, inside and out, and they both groaned as they watched you give in to ecstasy.  You weren’t even sure whose hands were where anymore, but they were everywhere, and even through your exhaustion you felt desperation guide your hips to move on their own— chasing an even higher pleasure.
“Fuck,” Joel grunted as he watched you go, his own thrusts getting faster and rougher.  “Fuck, that’s so cute.”
You didn’t expect him to describe you like that in a time like this, and you whimpered as your walls flexed again.  You could tell Joel was getting a little desperate himself, that bandaged hand giving your clit a break and holding your hip tightly instead.  “Come in her ass, Joel,” Emmett ordered with a sigh, staring at your face with heavy eyes, “she’s ready.”
He did it pretty much instantly, groaning lowly and tossing his head back with a sharp breath in through his teeth; you felt him flexing, and it stretched your tighter hole even just that much more.  You whined softly at the feeling, hearing distantly little praises from Emmett, and finally Joel finished and pulled out of you with a little hiss.
It was less of a relief than you expected— your ass was still stretched and sore, and Emmett was still so deep inside you… and then, a moment later, you felt that hot trickle out of your used hole.  You felt filthy with Joel’s come running out of you like that, tickling your inner thigh as it dribbled down— but the way Emmett was looking at you seemed to remove any sense of shame you had left.
"God, look how beautiful you are," Emmett grunted as he guided you to move faster in his lap, "men just can't help it with you, can they?  Bet every guy in this town wants you, bet they're all thinking about having you to themselves— but you're mine, huh?  My girl?"
"Yes," you sobbed, "yes, I'm yours— all yours, Emmett, always—"
"Gonna show Joel whose girl you are," Emmett promised with a growl.  "Gonna get this pussy nice and full how you like it."
"Yes," you said again, a needy groan this time— the tip of his cock was hitting so deep inside you that you could hardly breathe, yet you only wanted more.  "Yes, please, please— come in me, daddy."
"Damn," Joel laughed, "she is dirty."
Emmett grinned.  "Only gets that way when she's real desperate.  Needs her daddy's come so bad…"
“Please,” you begged shakily, feeling him pull you closer and start to buck his hips up into you faster; he was breathing roughly, quickly, and you knew that he was getting close, but he had a habit of holding back until he absolutely couldn’t take it anymore just so he could watch you like this for as long as possible.  
Apparently unsatisfied with the speed and control he could reach with you on top of him, Emmett pushed you back down onto the bed, holding your legs and fucking you hard and fast— you cried out, arching your back as his hands slid up to hold your waist.
You gasped loudly when Joel unexpectedly leaned down and sucked on one of your tits; your back arched even further towards it, and you heard him moan against your skin as his tongue circled the hardened bud.  Emmett's mouth suddenly found the other one, without his pace slowing down at all, and you could've screamed right then.  You hadn't realized how sensitive they would be, and never in your life had you had both sucked on at once— it was so overwhelming, it was making jolts of white hot pleasure burst inside you, and fuck Emmett’s cock was filling you just right, hitting that perfect spot—
"I'm coming," you sobbed, "f-fuck, daddy, I'm coming—"
Emmett groaned loudly, his mouth falling slack around your breast as hot breaths fanned your skin.  You felt him starting to flex inside you, and you moaned louder knowing he was filling you so deep.  His grunts were in time with his deep, hard thrusts into you, and you went numb and tingly all over as the orgasm seemed to drain everything out of you.
Finally, he slowed to a stop, moving up to kiss you slow and sweet— both of you breathing heavily against each other, your shaky fingers reaching up to hold his face and run through his hair.
He broke away and sat up with a sigh; you wanted to kiss him longer, but you were too exhausted to even complain, simply relaxing against the bed and almost wincing when he pulled out of your sore cunt.
Emmett sat back and tugged your limp form up a bit, cradling you as he held your back to his chest.  “Oh, look at that,” he whispered just beside your ear, reaching down to rub your thigh, “all’a my come running out of you… both holes nice and full just how you need… so fuckin’ pretty, baby, my pretty little girl…”
You just whimpered sleepily, soaking in the warmth of Emmett’s embrace.
"Why don't you taste her now, Joel?" Emmett suddenly offered him with a smirk.  
Before you could process that idea, Emmett was holding your legs open while Joel dived down between them.  You whimpered as Joel licked up through your folds, your whole body getting hot at the thought of Joel tasting you and Emmett.  He really didn't mind doing that with another man's come?  The idea that he might just be that insatiable for you…
He suddenly latched on to your clit and sucked hard, making you yelp and buck your hips— but Joel and Emmett were both holding onto you tight, keeping you steady as your body shook uncontrollably.
"Oh, that's it's," Emmett praised, "let him taste you, baby— let Joel lick that pretty pussy, okay?"
"F-fuck— s'really sensitive—" you choked out.
Emmett held you tighter, both hands groping your breasts and his fingertips gently toying with your nipples.  “Bein’ so good for me,” he praised in a low, rough voice.  “So fuckin’ pretty when you’re getting your pussy ate, babydoll— never get to appreciate it ‘cause I’m too busy doin’ it.  But you look so fuckin’ cute like this…”
Your back arched, pushing your shoulders against Emmett's chest as he held you, and he trailed gentle kisses along your shoulder and up your neck. 
"Gonna come, huh?" he noticed, pinching your nipples harder until you whined.  "It's okay, baby, let Joel make you come.  Just one more and you can rest…"
“C-can’t,” you choked, “can’t come anymore—”
“Shh, you can,” Emmett promised.  “You can show Joel how good you are for me, huh?  You can come when I tell you to.”
“Fuck,” you sobbed, grabbing onto Emmett’s hand tightly— though your other hand gripped a handful of Joel’s salt-and-pepper hair, making him look up at you with those dark brown eyes…
“Mhm, you can do it,” Emmett continued, squeezing your hand in encouragement.  “Put your tongue inside her, Joel.”
You shuddered and quaked when Joel obeyed, the most filthy sounds filling the room while Joel lapped and sucked at your leaking pussy.  Emmett’s hand— the one you weren’t holding onto for dear life— groped your tits roughly, pinching your nipples hard enough to make you buck your hips against Joel’s face, but Joel still had that iron-tight grip on your hips to keep you where he needed you.
Joel was moaning lowly against your skin, focusing his tongue attention back on your clit— from teasing little circles around it to hard, rough licks right over it.  This time, when he went back to sucking on the nub harder than ever, you knew you couldn’t hold it back anymore.  “Fuck, Joel!” you screamed, making him groan darkly again.  “I’m gonna come!”
Emmett dragged his teeth over the shell of your ear, laughing softly yet wickedly.  “You’re sayin’ his name now?” he noticed.  “You’re not coming for him, baby, you’re coming for me.  Because I told you to.  Yes?”
“Yes, yes,” you promised, chanting it mindlessly.  “Yours, Emmett— fuck, I’m yours, you know I am.  Only yours.”
His hand moved from your breast to your face, turning it far enough to look at him— those eyes were boring into you, and you whimpered with your lip between your teeth as you hoped you hadn’t disappointed him.  “Say it again,” he demanded.
“Yours,” you repeated as you looked into his eyes— even though your imminent orgasm made it harder and harder to keep your eyes open.  “I’m yours, daddy.”
He grabbed your jaw and kissed you hard, his tongue keeping your mouth wide open; he swallowed every moan as you came, moaning himself like he could taste your pleasure in the kiss, holding your hand tighter than ever. 
Joel kept eating you out even when your whole body was shaking, even when your weak little hand was trying to push his head away— he only stopped when Emmett’s hand joined yours, just one touch and Joel lifted his head and sighed.
Emmett guided your hand back up to his face, and you held it (with what little strength you had) as you kept kissing him… though the kiss changed, it went from rough and hungry to soft and slow and gentle.
He stopped kissing you just enough to speak, his thumb petting your cheek so you would open your eyes.  “You did so good for me, babydoll,” he cooed under his breath.
Knowing you had finally done everything he wanted, you melted limply into Emmett’s arms, who chuckled a little at your exhaustion.  
“Looks like you really wore her out, Miller.”
“You did, too,” Joel returned.  “Besides, at that age, I’m guessin’ she’ll be raring to go again by the end of the hour.”
Emmett snorted.  “I can get her begging in five minutes,” he countered.
“Please— m’too tired,” you whimpered, cuddling up tighter against Emmett— but his hand was already snaking up your thigh, teasing further between your legs.
“Too tired, huh?” he taunted quietly, petting closer to your sore pussy until your legs spread naturally to let him touch where he wanted.  “Good girl.”
Two fingers delicately teased you, circling around your clit but never quit reaching it— until you were rocking your hips up to try to find some attention in the right spot.
When he did touch your clit, ever so gently, you shivered and mumbled his name; your eyes still closed, you hid your face in his neck and began to shamelessly rock against his fingers.  He teased your opening, making it apparent how wet you still were, but never dipped inside no matter how hard you tried to tempt him to.
“Please,” you whispered, too desperate to feel guilty for it at all, “Emmett, I need—”
“Jesus,” Joel laughed, “didn’t take long at all, did it?”
“Nope,” Emmett agreed.
“So fuckin’ needy,” Joel groaned.
“Yep,” Emmett responded simply again.  “Tell us what you need, babydoll…”
“I…I need…” you mumbled, face getting warm.  “Need to be full…”
“With what?” Joel pressed.
“Um…” you stalled, nervous to admit it but knowing they wouldn’t rest until you did.  “With a… a cock.”
Emmett snorted.  “Any cock?” he wondered.
“W-well, I figured one of you two—”
They both laughed a little, and you felt silly but your walls tightened against themselves.  “We’re not young like you, sweetpea— it’s not that easy,” Joel explained.  “Gonna need a little more patience…”
“But— but you got me all worked up!” you whined.  “You did that on purpose…”
“Yeah,” Emmett admitted with a purr, “yeah, baby, I did that on purpose.”
You pouted a bit.  “You’re mean sometimes…”
“Mhm,” he agreed with a soft laugh, raising an eyebrow as he looked at Joel.  “How long will it take you to get hard again?”
“Not that long,” Joel answered, “if she puts that mouth to good use.”
Emmett helped you sit up, patting your back encouragingly.  “Go ahead, baby, you know what to do…”
As you crawled towards where Joel knelt on the bed, still totally dazed and exhausted, you realized that tonight was far from over— and that tonight may not be all that Emmett had in store for you.
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sleekswosobession · 3 months
Text
a bad batch
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barça femeni x teen!reader
request: here
A/N: do you guys ever wonder what showers in the diff teams lockerooms look like? is it just a big room with showers and they’re all naked together or is there cubicals? if anyone knows please enlighten me
TW: Vomit, illness, swearing
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
It wasn’t your fault really, it was whoever decided that the KFC given to you was actually safe to eat. Don’t they have quality managers for that? Despite it literally having feathers on it still, it was pretty meh. Not even enjoyable chicken.
That’s how you find yourself hunched over a toilet bowl, throwing up all contents of your stomach and more. You’re sweating but cold, you definitely know you have a fever or sorts but you’re uncertain how bad.
Worse thing is, training was supposed to start in 5 minutes. No way you were getting there now, not like this.
You shoot a quick message off to Jona explaining you don’t feel well and it’s probably something you ate. He replies quickly saying the usual of taking off however long is needed to get back to full recovery.
What’s the one thing you don’t consider in all this? You’re very overprotective teammates.
You end up puking more, and passing out on the bathroom floor due to exhaustion, the cool tiles feeling magical against the heat your body radiates.
- - - - -
You’re awoken by harsh knocks on your door. Your head hurts, your throat is scratchy, you’re dizzy and delusional, you feel like shit.
You stumble toward the door, opening it to see Frido and Keira.
“Jesus.” The Englishwoman says before pressing a firm hand and against your ablaze skin.
“Jona told us you said it was a light sickness? This is bad.” She says, rushing inside with the blonde Swede behind her. You were teammates with Frido on a national level as well so she took on more of a role while you settled in Barcelona.
“Come on, you shouldn’t be standing älskling (darling). Sit down, come.” She rests her hand on your back guiding you to the couch to sit down.
“Have you eaten?” She wipes away the sweaty hair away from your forehead.
“No.” You whisper softly.
“Ok, we’ll get you to eat and then into a bath ok? If we don’t get this fever down we might have to take you to a hospital.” The words compute in your mind, you don’t want a hospital. You just have to follow what the older 2 say and you’ll be fine. That’s what you tell yourself at least.
- - - - -
After eating a couple spoons of chicken broth Keira gave you, you’re taken to the bathroom and stripped into your sports bra and bike pants.
“Get in the water älskling, you’ll feel better I promise.” Frido kisses the side of your head, helping you in the bath.
It’s cold, and you do not like it.
“Frido, cold.” You whimper, trying to get out.
“I know but you have to stay. This is needed, trust me?” Her heart breaks at the sight of you in so much discomfort. But she knows it’s for the better.
You cry, along with everything else you’re feeling now, you’re cold and not allowed to move. Keira starts to stroke through your hair whispering soft words of affirmation.
“Shh bub, stop crying. You’re ok, it’s all gonna be ok.” She looks over to her teammate who is measuring your fever.
“It’s still a bit high, 37.8. Just a little longer älskling, then you can go to sleep does that sound ok to you?” You can’t even recognise her statement, only focusing on the cold your body feels.
After a couple more minutes, the girls decide you’ve had enough time to cool down so they change you into fresh pajamas, putting you to sleep in your own room before coming up with ways to hopefully get you to feel better.
- - - - -
When you wake up again a couple hours later, you feel even worse. Every body part aches and you feel the need to throw up again. So, you muster up all the energy you have and make a bee-line to the toilet.
Luckily making it in time, you spill more contents of your stomach. Someone has tied your hair back but you can’t will yourself to move.
“Hey, relax.” The accented voice says. You do as told and fall into Caroline. When did she get here? But you do as told, not wanting to feel this way any longer.
“Feel like shit.” You mumble, exhausted.
“I know, Marta and Ingrid are also here now. We will check your temperature soon ok? Right now you just need to not stress and stay here alright?” She runs her fingers up and down the sides of your torso until Ingrid comes in.
“I’ve got the thermometer. Could you open your mouth for me?” You open it without question, and she visibly cringes at the reading when she takes a look at it.
“This is not good, this isn’t normal. Look.” She shows it to her national teammate. Who also cringes.
“Tell the others to pack her stuff, get Frido here. Tell her the temperature and we need to go to the hospital.” This is when you start to worry, even in your delirious state.
There’s commotion outside the walls of your bathroom but you can’t will yourself to care, slumped against Caro hoping you’ll feel better soon.
Frido rushes inside, picking you up off the floor. She rushes to the car and gets in the backseat. In the front is Keira and Ingrid, in another car is presumably the other couple.
- - - - -
Arriving at the emergency department, you’re immediately taken to a private room where they hook you up to machines and an IV. You try to fight them, feeling too overwhelmed by the situation but Frido takes the chance to hold your hand in hopes of calming you down.
“Deep breaths älskling, it’s not too long before they’re gone.” Her words are a comfort to your ears, and she’s right because the doctors leave soon after that.
You look down at the little thermometer on your finger, showing the temperature of your skin. 41.5°.
You cringe like all the other girls who had seen it previously. Despite your hatred for hospitals, you’re happy because it means that the pain should go away sooner.
Frido has been on the phone for a bit, and she walks over to you.
“Magda wants to speak with you.” She smiles lightly, and you take the phone holding it against your ear.
“Hi Magda.” You say, voice an octave higher than usual.
“Hey little one, heard you weren’t feeling too great. Are the girls treating you right?” You hum.
“Yeah, they’re good.” She seems content with the answer.
“Ok good, we need you healthy for the next camp. Can’t have the mini star gone.” You laugh slightly at the given nickname.
“Alright pass me back to Frido, stay well and don’t do anything stupid. Please.” She begs over-dramatically.
“Come on, I’m not that bad!” You laugh, even if it made your stomach slightly hurt.
“Sure, sure. Talk to you later little one.”
“Bye Mags.” You pass it back to the older Swede and the door to your room opens revealing Mapi and Alexia.
Alexia walks over to you, concern visible between her brows. Mapi heads straight to Ingrid. (Not a surprise).
“You don’t look well at all. I’m not sure how you managed to text Jona.” You shrug, she takes a long breath.
“We’ll talk about saying how sick you actually are later, for now you should get some rest. We’ll be here when you wake up.” You do as told, quickly falling asleep without fight.
- - - - -
Over the coming days, the girls watch over you like hawks until they’re sure you’re better and you won’t snap in half at a slight gust of wind. It got annoying, but you couldn’t really say no when they were just trying to make it easier for you.
Whenever you threw up, cried in pain or overall didn’t want to do anything. One of the girls would be there to take any anguish you had away. No matter what, Barca isn’t just a team. But also a family.
—————————————————————————
sleekswosobsession: number 1 writer for cringe ending lines
anyways i need help from you anons, i have an english short story (800 word) narrative coming up but i need ideas.. i’m a writer not creative producer. but i do know that YOU have some ideas so please give it to me. these are the topics:
1. betrayal of trust
2. consequence of bad timing
3. Individual against society
(go wild but not too wild cuz i have to give it to my teacher)
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writtnbyhan · 6 months
Text
Let me take care of you.
PAIRING: han jisung x reader
TAGS: sickfic, idol!han, established relationship.
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WORD COUNT: 1927
PROMPT: "and just when were you going to tell me about your [injury/illness]?" You're sick and Jisung is worried -- That's the plot.
warnings: mentions of being sick (reader has a cold). Let me know if I missed a warning.
author's note: i don't know where this came from. I had something very different planned for today's post but this came to me in a vision and now i can only think of jisung taking care of his s/o, he's so baby and he's probably so good at taking care of people !!!!! i just wanna be in between his arms !! being cared for !!!
Okay, here’s the thing: you knew you were getting kinda sick. You knew from the way your body ached when you first woke up, from the sore throat and from the general feeling of being unwell. However, you decided it was not a big deal, and that was obviously your first mistake.
It was Jisung’s kind-of-free day, which meant he only had to go to the studio with 3RACHA to work on “some stuff”, as he put it himself, refusing to elaborate claiming that it was a surprise. You knew they were probably working on music for the next comeback even when this one wasn’t even out yet, and that’s why Jisung wouldn’t come clean, wanting to avoid your reprimanding from overworking themselves when they finally have some free time from the studio, only having to comply with the schedules related to the comeback.
On these days, he was usually only busy for a few hours before they got distracted with something random and therefore decided to call it quits, going home and relaxing for a few hours before moving onto the next scheduled activity. Today, Jisung didn’t have any of those, only going to the studio and then straight back home. You didn’t want to ruin what little time together you were getting these days, and you weren’t actually sick yet, so it wasn’t anything you should worry about.
You woke up alone, the other side of the bed unmade from when Hanji woke up, earlier, and went to the gym before the studio. He spent most nights with you, cuddling to make up for the time you weren’t capable of being together due to busy schedules and responsibilities. Everything ached, and the only thing you wanted to do was cover yourself with the sheets and sleep some more. But, you couldn’t do that. You needed to take a shower, clean up a bit, and force yourself to feel better. “Just for today, tomorrow we can be sick,” you told your body as you got out of bed, frowning and closing your eyes when the light coming through the window was quick to cause you a headache.
Shower first, you decided, going for the warm water and hoping it’d help with the pain on your body. It did, luckily. You then brushed your teeth, noticing on the mirror that the bags under your eyes were darker and more noticeable. Yes, you were obviously getting sick. Tomorrow. You were getting sick tomorrow, because today you had to spend the day with Jisung and cuddle with him watching Ghibli movies, it was a need.
After breakfast, you took some ibuprofen and sent Jisung a quick text.
“good morning, baby. hope everything’s going well at the studio, missing you already :)”
Putting your phone down after that, you set out to clean up the apartment, taking more ibuprofen whenever your body was being inconvenient to you.
“hello cutie, we’re actually wrapping up for the day!! going home in 30, love you.” You read the text when ten minutes had already passed since it was received. With a smile on your face, you sent a quick reply, knowing it wasn’t necessary given that he was already coming home, but also knowing that he would sulk if you didn’t reply to his “love you”.
“love you too<3 will be waiting with the popcorn ready.”
Making good on your promise, you started making popcorn and conditioning the living room for
Making good on your promise, you started making popcorn and setting up the living room for your movie plans, bringing all the blankets you could find (which was not actually necessary, but you were starting to feel cold so you thought it’d be better to have those around) and the pillows from your bed.
As you were placing the popcorn on the table with some juice, the door opened, and in came the squirrel-looking boy that was able to put a smile on your face instantaneously, even when you were feeling so ill.
“Hello, my love!” you said, dramatically, bringing a hand to your own chest as if to hold your heart. “I thought you’d never make it, I was left missing you for too long!”
He smiled with that heart-shaped smile that made your heart do spins. You felt dizzy just by looking at him (okay, maybe that was the cold you probably had, but you decided to convince yourself it was Jisung’s fault). “My lady, I’m so sorry to have kept you waiting, shall we begin with our plans?”
You giggled, skipping towards him to give him a kiss on the cheek and drag him to the couch that was currently surrounded by blankets. You chose one and threw it over both of you, getting comfortable in between your boyfriend’s arms with the remote in hand.
Halfway through the first Ghibli movie of the night, you began sneezing.
“’m sorry” you mumbled, getting up to grab some tissues and noticing you felt much more sick than in the morning.
You should tell Jisung, you knew that. But he’d worry, and you didn’t want to cut your night together short.
So, you didn’t. You grabbed the tissues and got back into his arms, kissing his hands when they were in front of you. Jisung freezed when you did that, and you frowned — it was a common gesture between the two of you, why was he reacting like that?
His hand went quickly to your forehead.
Oh, that.
Jisung gasped.
“Baby, you’re burning up.”
He sounded worried, and you sighed.
“I know.” You said. You didn’t actually know you had a fever, but you didn’t want him to make a fuss. You wanted to watch movies together, and cuddle, and sleep. And okay, maybe you had a headache and that had made you grumpy, which was something that always happened when you were sick so Jisung was used by now to your complaints about his caring.
However, despite knowing you always reacted badly to feeling unwell, that comment had made him frown, looking at you while his hand was still on your forehead.
“You knew?” he repeated, clearly agravated by what you had just told him. “And when exactly were you planning on telling me? When you collapsed in the hallway or while I was being forced to bring you to the hospital?”
He was being dramatic, of course, but the sincerity in his worry and his concern made your heart soften a little, so you directed your eyes to the floor, blinking to try and ease the headache that had formed from looking at the screen for too long.
“I didn’t wanna worry you” you mumbled, voice soft and shy. He melted a little at that, his anger dissapearing almost as quick as it had made his way forth.
“Baby, you need someone to take care of you when you’re feeling like this. We could’ve just cuddled in bed so you were more comfortable, and I could’ve been checking on your temperature and your medicine. What hurts?” he asked, giving a little kiss to your forehead before letting his hold around you loosen, clearly having plans of getting up.
You whined at the lost of his warmth against your back, your eyes filling up with unwanted tears at the cold and the loneliness you suddenly felt.
“Hannie…” you cried out, looking up at him, who looked almost bewildered. When he met your eyes, a pout formed in his face. He extended his arms towards you, now standing in front of the couch, and hugged you so you could attach yourself to him like a koala would to a tree. Your hold was weak, so he made sure to keep you safe with one hand on your back while he wrapped a blanket around you as if you were a baby. You knew the plan was to get you to your shared bed so you could cuddle more comfortably and drift off to sleep when you needed it. Problem was: you had needed it for about 15 minutes by now, so hiding your face in his neck and letting his warmth envelop you, you were quick to fall asleep against him, not minding his movements or the sounds around you.
You woke up when it was already dark outside. A wet cloth was on your forehead and you were now in bed, your boyfriend’s hand on your waist and Ponyo playing in the background. You looked to your bedside table and found a water bottle and some pills that you knew you didn’t have in your house. You knew Jisung never wanted to leave your side when you were sick, no matter that you were asleep, so you were sure he had those delivered or asked one of the boys to pick them up for him.
You turned around, letting the wet cloth fall off so as to hide your face in his chest. You felt better after sleeping, and you were sure your fever had subsided because you no longer felt cold, but your throat was still sore and your eyes still stung with the light.
At your movement, Han directed all his attention towards you, kissing your forehead and tightening his hold on your waist.
“Hello, sleepyhead. You need to take some medicine, I asked Chan-hyung to bring it here because all you had was some ibuprofen, and you were running out of it. How are you feeling?” he asked, his free hand caressing your hair and making you feel a lot more relaxed, even when your back still ached and your throat hurt.
“I’m okay,” you settled for, your voice coming out raspy and probably revealing what you were hiding. He chuckled, and you knew he knew what you just said was a lie, so you sighed. “I’m feeling a lot better, but my throat still hurts and my body aches. It’s probably just a cold.” You mumbled the last part against his chest, a subtle way of saying: there’s no need to worry this much.
He nodded, which you knew because you felt his head moving above yours. “Probably. Please, take some medicine so you can feel better faster.”
You did as he asked, taking the pill he was offering you and drinking from the water bottle he had uncapped and handed to you. You smiled at him in thanks, after wincing from the bitter taste of the pill.
“Sorry for ruining or movie date.” Your eyes were sad and he knew you were sincerely sorry. A pout formed on your lips as you thought of when you would be able to have the next one, knowing it’d be difficult to plan out given that the comeback was so close.
“You didn’t ruin anything, baby,” he said, equally as sincere. “It’s not your fault you got sick, and I don’t mind taking care of you — I really like it, actually. Plus, I got to watch the movies while watching you sleep, so… I really don’t mind. I just want you to be okay so we can have more movie dates.”
You blushed at his words, feeling soft and just wanting to kiss him — you both knew you should not do that, for he couldn’t get sick now because he had a lot of presentations and performances to do. You pouted.
“This is so unfair, I want to kiss you so badly,” you complained, and he laughed, kissing your cheek.
“I know, baby, me too. So, take your medicine so I can get all the kisses you owe me.”
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celtic-crossbow · 20 days
Text
Blood Ties Chapter 23
Series Masterlist
Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore; a tad bit of angst; smidge of illness; all the pregnancy woes in the world; some suggestive dialogue A/N: There's some serious fluff in this. I tried so hard to keep Daryl in character while having him offer all he could to a person doing something precious for him. I hope I succeeded. The explanation of midnight blue is a little bit of self indulgence. It's my own favorite color and the reason why. I know I skipped the nursing home scene but I took the liberty of adding into the timeline somewhere as a mention.
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The events of the day before had ended in the most amusing way, with you nearly inviting Carol in before getting dressed.
“She knows what tits and a vagina look like, Daryl.”
“She don’t know what my dick looks like, Y/N!”
“Touche, sir.”
All ended well and Carol saw no genitalia that fine day.
You had officially worn one another out. After the Tylenol and Carol’s snickers and knowing smiles, you and Daryl fell onto the pillows and slept until the next morning. The fever remained, albeit burning less and less hot each time the old man would look him over. His lungs were sounding better. Hershel removed the IV when the archer proved he could keep up with hydrating and promised to take it easy. Of course, he would. He had you as his warden. 
The next evening, after a bowl of hearty stew with the venison you had brought back,—two bowls for Daryl—you laid in bed. He wasn’t complaining, for once, and actually seemed to be close to falling asleep. It had been a relief to watch him eat well, even if he did try to share the second bowl. You were feeling a little nauseated, sharing that knowledge honestly when you turned down his offering. Your condition had definitely improved, the severity of the occurrences much less concerning. Things were actually okay. 
“Daryl?” You licked your suddenly dry lips but continued drawing patterns on his bare chest from your spot against his side with his arm wrapped around you. He hummed, his usual reply, eyes remaining closed while his thumb swept back and forth over your ribs. When you didn’t answer right away, he pulled you a little closer. It was unclear if it was intentional or not.
“What?” He cleared his throat, his voice still gravelly. 
“Can we—I’d like to know more about you.” Your timid request must have snagged his attention because he was shifting your bodies to lie face to face, one hand below his cheek and the other rubbing small circles just over where the baby had finally stopped tap dancing. He was giving you that look, the squinted eyes that scrutinized someone for any indication of dishonesty or hidden agenda. He should know you better than that by now, but you remained quiet.
“Whaddaya wanna know?” He finally queried, his hand going still but remaining where it was.
“Anything. Everything.” You shrugged your available shoulder. “If we’re gonna do this—be an us—then we need to know one another, don’t you think?” He started tapping a finger against your abdomen.
“S’your favorite color?”
You huffed a laugh through your nose, scrunching it with a smile. “Midnight blue. What’s yours?” He pulled a face, curiosity shining through.
“Why midnight?” He asked with a sniff, shuffling around a bit on the pillow.
“Because even though I know it isn’t, I like to think that’s the color of the night sky. Not black, but dark blue and full stars. Black is nothing, it’s lonely, but to think of it as blue. It’s a little more comforting.” The archer gave you a thoughtful look, the corner of his mouth ticking upward so minutely that anyone else would have missed it. Not you. “Now, what’s yours?”
He mimicked your earlier shrug. “Dunno. Don’t really got one, I guess.” Your silence beckoned him to explain. After moving his hand from below his cheek to chew on the side of his thumb, he eventually elaborated. “Grew up learnin’ to ‘preciate all’a ‘em. House was—it was always dark, ‘specially after mama died. When my old man—I spent a lot’a time outside. Noticed things. Blue sky’d turn a bit purple before it’d snow, even if it was just a lil’. Grass—it’d be green but have those brown pieces where I’d walk all’a the time. Creek looked muddy unless ya stood in it. Then ya’d see the bottom an’ how the water’d catch the light. Sometimes it’d be blue, sometimes kinda green. Just depended on the day.” His gaze had dropped away from you at some point, focused on the miniscule area of bed sheets between your bodies.
You were glad for it because your eyes had started to fill and shine. You were granted the opportunity to blink back the tears before he looked up. Daryl was so much more than anyone had given him credit for, than anyone had been willing to learn. Carol had told you a story about an exchange with Andrea, when she had taken a jab at what she thought was his limited vocabulary.
“Get a dictionary. Look it up. Observant.”
“D’ya like dogs or cats?” He asked so suddenly that you nearly flinched, realizing that you had just been staring at some point past his head for an undetermined amount of time. There was no way he hadn’t noticed.
“I like both, but I’m a dog person.” You frowned. Having a dog would probably be something your child would never get to experience. “You?”
“Dogs. Cats ain’t trustworthy.” It was such an amusing thing to say with such a straight face. You couldn’t help but laugh.
“Wait, I need to hear this.” You caught him staring at your lips, maybe watching you laugh or maybe he wanted to kiss you. Both? You pretended not to notice. 
“Dogs’re smart but cats’re calculated. Make ya think they’re all innocent when they ain’t. Always up to somethin’.”
“What I’m hearing is that you’re afraid of cats.” You smirked, absently reaching to run your fingers through his hair. Daryl made a disgruntled sound and shook his head to stave off your attempts.
“Ain’t afraid’a ‘em. Just don’t trust ‘em.”
“Right.” You nodded, face falling into feigned seriousness before it became real, your next question burning inside your chest, just below the fear you’d need to surpass to ask. He was likely to shut down the session, maybe even close off completely. You could always hope he’d begun to trust you enough to open up, even if only a little, but the prospect suddenly seemed so far away. “Daryl.”
“Ask.” He was looking right into your eyes with a hint of determination you’d seen before when the circumstances were different, dire even. Was that how he saw this? A dire situation that could result in you being gone in some way?
“Who—what happened?” You let a single fingertip press gently against the deepest scar on his chest, your eyes lingering on it for but a moment before you contradicted his intensity with tenderness. Not pity, but a gentle curiosity. A request to allow you to understand.
“My dad—he was never a good man.” He swallowed hard. “Got worse after mama died. She drank. Fell asleep with a smoke, burned up in our house.” His fingers were plucking at the small space between you, a fine tremor in his hand. He pulled it out of your reach when you reached for it. “Didn’t know what to do with us, I guess. Me an’ Merle—my brother.” The brother that Rick had left behind in Atlanta, the brother who was likely dead. Yet another relative your baby would never know. “Merle tried to—he’d take the beatin’ when he could, did his best. Booked it outta there when he couldn't take it no more. Joined the army.” His eyes were wet, but he sniffed and cleared his throat. “Wasn't nothin’ standin’ between me an’ the old man then—between me an’ the belt. The cigarettes.” He fell silent, clearly finished with talking about his parents.
“Tell me about Merle?” You ventured, shot down with a shake of his head against the pillow.
“Ain’t your turn.” He sniffed again. “Your mama—tell me ‘bout your mama.” It wasn’t exactly a question, more of a soft demand; an it’s only fair. You didn’t mind. You’d accepted her abandonment long ago. You had been content with the amazing father with whom you were gifted.
“She booked it. We didn’t have a lot of money, and she never really wanted me in the first place. Tucked tail and ran the first chance she got.” You shrugged, unbothered beyond the twinge of guilt you felt for being so okay with the hand you had been dealt while Daryl struggled to even think about his past. “I didn’t even miss her. I mean, it sucked at first. I always felt bad, watching daddy struggle. So, I learned to help and that was that.”
He was so obviously jealous, yet another emotion that he didn't know how to process. You saw the anger flare before he doused it, returning to a solemn state of silence. He was awaiting your question, wherein you found a dilemma. Did you push through the conversation about his family? Or did you switch to something else, give him a break? 
“Thank you for trusting me.” When you reached for him then, he didn’t pull away. His mask cracked and a few pieces fell away, but he held the rest steady. “That’s enough for now, okay? If you have more questions, I’ll answer them. Gladly. But you’ve shared enough, okay?” When he studied you, you didn’t let him proceed with his usual scrutiny. “It’s fine, Daryl. We can talk more when—if—you ever want to again. You don’t need to tell me anything else.”
He accepted the out with a long exhale and a nod, his gaze falling away. You embraced the silence and its discomfort, just touching him while he was in a place to allow it. You stroked his cheek, the stubble thicker than usual with his confinement to the bed. You smoothed his hair, scratched gently over his scalp. Finally, you scooted closer and pulled him toward you to meet in the middle. Tangling your legs around his, you guided his head to rest under your chin. He let you without complaint or denial, a testament to how he had silently endured when he needed comforting.
The two of you laid there, his breaths evening out to the point where you thought he had fallen asleep. Then, breaking the silence, he cleared his throat. “Why me?” You pulled back just enough to angle your head and look at him.
“Why you what?”
“Why ya settlin’ with me? We can raise a kid together without you givin’ up a chance with someone better.” He took a deep breath, keeping his head down. “I won’t hold ya to it if ya change your mind later—if someone shows—”
“There’s no one better.” You nearly snapped at him, your tone harsher than you’d ever meant for it to be. He flinched and you instantly hated yourself for it. You’d seen someone’s quick movements earn that reaction before, but words hardly affected Daryl physically, not like that. “Daryl.” You silently pleaded with him to look at you, but were left disappointed. “There’s no one better.” You repeated, so softly that it was almost a whisper, your breath disturbing his hair. “I want to raise this baby with you. I want to be with you. I love you. That’s not gonna change.”
He simply hummed, the sound reverberating against your throat. You wanted to throttle him, but none of his self-deprecation was his fault. You hated people you didn’t even know for it. “Don’t deserve all this.” Your brow furrowed deeply at his words. “Feel like m’gettin’ somethin’ meant for someone else. Like m’takin’—” The words died on the tip of his tongue. What could you even say to that? You could tell him he deserved the world—the fucking universe—but he’d never believe it. You’d just have to show him. It would take time and patience that would likely be tested over and over, but he was worth it.
“You’ll see.” You settled back against him, let silence fall between you again. After a while, he actually did fall asleep, the tension you had noticed in him finally melting away into a restful state he so desperately needed in order to continue getting well. A kiss was pressed into his hair. You never fell asleep yourself, simply lying there with him. Your heart ached yet it was full. With your fingers traveling up and down his back in gentle motions you hoped were comforting even within his dreams, you told him again. “You’ll see.”
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Daryl was coughing strenuously by the time you reached the truck, his hand pressed hard against his chest. The cold air, the rush of grabbing up all the bags, the running from the herd—it was taking its toll on his still healing body.
“Keys.” You demanded. “I’m driving.”  You could see it on his face that he was going to argue, but he doubled over in another fit of coughs and deep, wheezing gasps. Digging in his pocket through the ordeal, he tossed you the keyring. The bags you two were responsible for were tossed into the back next to the bike. It took the archer two attempts to pull himself onto the bench seat, which required the effort of both your bodies to move back in order to accommodate your 30 week bump. Just as your door closed, a discolored hand slapped against the window, startling you into a shout.
The van was already moving when you pressed the gas to peel out behind it, mowing down at least three walkers. Dark blood splattered onto the windshield, smearing but mostly washing away when you used the partially frozen fluid and wipers. Daryl’s forehead was against the dashboard as he fought to catch his breath in the chilled air. You were fumbling for the temperature controls when he smacked your hand away.
“Just—just drive. I got it.” He rasped, the warming air filling the cab a moment later. His back thudded against the seat, shaking it slightly, his head falling back against the headrest with his eyes closed. He was finally sucking in gulps of air into irritated, partially healed lungs. When you reached a point that was safe enough to pull off, you would make sure the group remembered his state of health and didn’t travel for too long before finding anything suitable and safe enough for a stay of at least a few days. “Quit your worryin’, woman. M’good.”
“Just don’t, Daryl.” You argued quietly, desperate to keep the peace between the pair of you that you’d managed to create. “Let me worry. If you don’t fight me on it, I’ll be less likely to do something stupid.” You glanced over, finding his head rolled toward you, his jaw set but he relented with a jerk of his head.
“Fine. Just have ‘em find whatever. S’long as it keeps your ass right here beside me.” 
You smiled and silently celebrated your victory, even as he noticed and grumbled beside you. When you placed your hand, palm up, on the seat between you, only a heartbeat passed before you felt him squeezing your fingers.
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Roughly eight weeks left, though Hershel said you could safely deliver if you made it at least four more weeks. You were actually becoming slightly miserable. The nausea would come and go, though you actually vomited less and less. Your ankles were missing completely under the puffy skin. Your belly felt so heavy that even just standing was becoming a chore. Lori was sympathetic, constantly giving you advice. Not only you but Daryl as well. You had seen her whispering to him, watched the way he would go completely still, not looking at her but listening intently. Rick could give him all the advice in the world but Lori’s input was crucial. She knew exactly what you needed.
The archer argued with you less and less, though you could see the restraint it took for him to bite his tongue, sometimes literally. He let you hunt with him because you were restless. Lori had said it was because of the urge to start nesting, which you had found amusing, but Daryl already knew about it because of the damn books he continued to snatch up on runs. Why it frustrated you that he was willing to go that extra mile was beyond your comprehension. Maybe because he knew more about what was going on with your body than you did? You should have been grateful, but all you wanted to do was kick him in the shins.
“Can ya just—nevermind.” He grunted from behind you while the two of you tracked some turkeys. You knew they’d be in the trees for the cold weather so you kept your eyes upward, irritating the hunter when you would nearly trip or run into something. Still, he kept his cool, which was admirable for your hot-headed partner. Daryl didn’t like the term boyfriend, you’d discovered during a brief conversation where you’d found your tongue looser than normal and spilling out questions you’d otherwise never ask. The two of you had settled on being partners, though you didn’t feel it was enough to describe your relationship. He had simply shrugged.
You couldn’t hunt with a gun. He’d all but forbade it. Too loud, would draw walkers. So he found you a bow. Not a crossbow but a traditional one. It didn’t take much practice. You only needed to become familiar with the tension of the string, how far to pull for the trajectory and speed needed. Aiming came naturally.
“Shut up, Daryl. I’m fine.” You snapped, instantly muttering an apology. It was but wasn’t his fault you felt so crappy. It took two to make the baby whose little foot or hand or whatever was always pressing into your ribs. You were just as responsible and tried to remember that even when it was you and not him that felt like absolute shit most of the time. As if the world was hellbent on fucking with you, the toe of your boot found its way beneath an exposed root and you nearly faceplanted. If not for Daryl’s constant observance, you surely would have.
He snagged your bicep, dropping his crossbow to reach across your chest and grip your other shoulder. All you needed was a dislocated shoulder when you were already so beyond miserable. He made sure you stayed on your feet, nearly stumbling himself, but saying nothing when you found his irritated but concerned gaze. The weight of it instantly brought on the sniffling you knew was about to lead to a breakdown.
Over the course of only three weeks, the archer had memorized the signs and adapted, learning how to soothe you even at the expense of his own comfort. He immediately pulled you into his arms as close as he could with your ever-growing belly between you, shushing you and rubbing your back. 
“S’alright. I won’t letcha fall.”
Noble as his intentions were, that only seemed to stir up even more guilt. “I don’t know why I can’t just listen when you tell me I should stay behind! Why do you let me just do whatever I want even when you know it’s the wrong choice?!” You rubbed your wet face against his button up, leaving a dark spot and not for the first time.
“Cause you’re hard-headed an’ feelin’ like crap. Only make ya feel worse for me to argue with ya.”
And just like that, the switch flipped. “I’m not hard-headed, Daryl! I’m fucking capable and everyone wants to treat me like I’m gonna break!” You pushed him away roughly and stomped forward, sniffling harder than necessary. You heard a sigh from behind you, the sound of him picking up his crossbow and before following at a distance.
When you shot down the turkey, even beyond the pride you felt carrying it back, something told you that he saw it first but didn’t even raise his weapon.
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Carol had heated some water for you so you could wipe down, feeling like your skin was crawling after being in the woods all day. It was a foreign feeling for the leaves and cool, fresh air to feel like it stuck to your flesh and needed to be scrubbed away. You were a mess. Your body hurt and you constantly needed to pee. You were irritable. You’d want Daryl to fuck you one minute and then shove him away the moment he touched the slick apex of your thighs. You were torturing the poor man who didn’t have a clue how to provide the type of comfort you needed when he couldn’t even process how to overcome his own lack of it growing up.
You didn’t hear him enter the room as you bowed over the small sink in the dusty bathroom, your skin still damp beneath your long sleeved shirt and flannel sleep pants. You had washed your hair to the best of your ability, the wet strands forming a curtain around your face that blocked your view of the door. You didn’t startle when you felt the heat of his body behind you. It was familiar at that point in a way you couldn’t explain.
“I’m so sorry, Daryl.” You whispered, the syllables of his name coming out as a soft whimper. His hands settled on your hips, fingers flexing nervously.
“S’okay.” He stepped closer and you fully expected to feel his erection press against your ass, but that wasn’t the case. There was only the firm safety of his body, your human security blanket. “Wanna—can I try somethin’?” His voice shook beside your ear but his hands remained steady, digits still squeezing and releasing. Not trusting your voice, you nodded, his exhale warm against your neck.
You weren’t entirely sure what you were expecting but it certainly wasn’t his warm palms sliding beneath your belly and lifting with more gentleness than you were aware a human being could possess. The absence of the weight pulling down was an instant relief, your muscles turning to jello. You leaned back against him and he kept you upright, silently offering you comfort and succor that your body didn’t even know it needed.
“Fuck.” You breathed, eyes fluttering closed and head laying back against his shoulder. The tears came when his lips pressed against your temple, wordlessly expressing his gratitude for what you were enduring. “Thank you.” Your own appreciation trembled over your lips, whether toward the man at your back or a god you weren’t sure you believed in for putting him there.
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ladydostoevsky · 2 years
Text
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐳𝐲
𝐓𝐖: 𝐕𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐬'𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐞𝐢𝐫𝐝, 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐭?
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You walked the halls of the Red Keep to see your brother, the King. He has weakened the past few years. He is seriously ill and you are very scared for him. You feel sorry for him, you really do.
You haven't heard much about Rhanyra and Daemon, your niece and older brother. You have tried to send several letters to them, but no replies.
You finally arrived at the doors of the king's bed chambers. The knights bowed on either side and opened the door. "Princess y/n Targaryen, your grace," one screamed. You entered the room. In front of the fireplace sat your sick older brother, the King, and beside him stood your sister-in-law, The Queen Alicent. She turned around and smiled happily. “Y/n” she said and hugged you.
You have very nice relationship and get along very well. You were grateful to her for taking care of Viserys. You ended the hug. "My queen" You whispered. You turned your glance to your brother, walked beside him and knelt next to him. "Brother, how are you?" You asked softly. You heard the door close and assumed that Alicent had left you alone. "Who is it?" he replied weakly. You felt tears in your throat but you held them back. "Viserys, it's me. Your sister, Y/n" "Aah Y/n. Of course. My dear sister. I feel like I'm gonna die any moment" he joked. Your eyes widened. "Don't say it like that, Viserys! What would Rhaenyra think? You are strong, brother. You are a Dragon, like Daemon, like me," You said softly sobbing now. Viserys placed his hand on top of yours which was on his planket. "The one who was promised. The long night… it's… the promised…" "Viserys? Viserys!" He turned to look at you, confused. "I think.. I need to rest a little," you nodded and stood up. "I'm gonna tell Alicent," and after saying that you left.
⎯⎯⎯⎯
The garden had always been your favorite place. The smell, the colors, the picture was just breath taking. You walked around until you saw your niece, Helaena sitting alone on one of the seats there. You walked over to her, smiling sweetly. "Helaena, how are you?" She turned her attention from her hand, where a yellow butterfly rested, to you. Her face lit up when she saw you. "Aunt! Sit, sit!" and so you did, your red dress swaying with every movement. The butterfly flew away and she took your hands to hers. "I'm fine, aunt. Today is a beautiful day, isn't it? Did you come from seeing my father?" she asked hurriedly. "Today is a very beautiful day, my darling. Yes actually I did. Your mother told me you'd be here," her face fell. You frowned and put your hand on her shoulder. "Is something wrong, me dear? Are you spending much time here?... Alone?" she looked at the floor dreamily.
"I don't have anyone to talk to most of my time. Father is sick, mother is busy with Kingdom, Aegon… does his own things, Aemond also don't care. You're the only one I have, aunt." "Don't ever say such things again," you took her head and hugged her against your chest. She hooked her arms around your waist, strongly. "Never Helaena. Your parents and brothers love you, they really do. I love you. You don't have to feel alone, never." She took her head from your arms and looked you into the eyes dreamily. "I wish you were my mother, y/n." You looked at her sadly and hugged her again.
What you didn't hear were the words she spoke to herself. "The one who can't fly can't breathe fire."
⎯⎯⎯
After that you were to search your two nephews and talk with them about Helaene. Like you expected they were on the training ground. You watched from the balcony as Aemond's and Aegon's swords clashed. A few knights and lower lords around them. You knew how proud they were. They liked to show off, especially to you. You never knew why thought.
You made your way down the stairs. The knights and lords bowed when they saw you. "Make way to Princess y/n Targaryen," this took your nephews attention. Aegon smirked. "Came to see how I beat this brat's ass and cheer me up?" he asked arrogantly. "Not today, Aegon." Aemond looked at you with narrowed eyes. He never liked how his brother talked with you. "Actually, I would like to talk about Helaena with you," Aegon groaned and rolled his eyes for that. "My lovely aunt. Can we not talk about her again. I'm about to win this battle and I would like some cheering with your beautiful voice." Next thing you knew Aegon was bleeding from his right hand. The maesters ran to him and took him to his chambers, while Aegon cried and whined dramatically.
You looked at Aemond, shocked. He had thrown his bloodied sword to the ground. He looked unbothered. "He got too close to you." You had nothing to say. What was wrong with these boys? "Aemond… I have to talk with your mother about this. This is not…" "Don't worry, he has seen worse battles," he mocked his brother. You shaked your head, turned around to walk away and said, "I need a hot bath. Now." "I will see you at the dinner, Aunt," said Aemond, watching your beautiful figure walking away.
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neil-gaiman · 1 year
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hi neil! me again. won't be asking you for friend of dorothy origin sources this time promise. i also saw your talks at slu w a friend but they seem to have lost my question card so ill try here!
as someone whomst ppl seem incapable of being normal about, either worshipping the ground you walk on or despising you w a level of vitriol that seems disproportionate to your flaws, what advice do you have for aspiring writers who themselves might garner similar audiences on how to navigate intense parasocial relationships?
I guess the biggest piece of advice I have is it's only Chinatown. And for Chinatown, you can substitute Twitter or Tumblr or whatever.
I remember about seven years ago watching a post I'd made on Twitter turning into a dogpile. And it was particularly weird because in order for people to get upset enough to dogpile they had to pretend I meant something that I obviously didn't by it. And there were lots of people in the dogpile going "well, it would be rational not to take this absolutely literally but we now need to get shouty" and I was about to get very upset when my newish baby flipped himself onto his back for the very first time. And the Twitter nonsense became very trivial. And a day or two later it was forgotten.
There are people who have a relationship of some kind with someone they think I am, and those people don't really know me. And they aren't really part of my life. Whether they hate me or they love me. My friends are and my family are.
Or to put it another way, I remember a decade ago posting on Twitter that I was lonely. I had gone off on my own to write and I hadn't seen anyone in a few weeks. Someone replied incredulous that I could be lonely with hundreds of thousands of people following me and replying on Twitter, and I replied asking if anyone could bring me a cup of tea. But nobody did.
Nobody will.
And that's okay.
(And that's not to diminish actual relationships where you haven't met the person you are talking to in the flesh. But it's also, as the many catfish scams demonstrate, also not always the relationship you think you are in.)
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lonleydomcatalog · 2 months
Text
NSFW IMAGINE
Warnings: Msub, Dacryphilia, Afab reader, Pet Names: Love, Pretty Boy, Mommy kink Degradation, Praise, Like one Dick Slap, Mind break, Masochism, BDSM, Mean Fdom
Synopsis: Leaving your subby bf at home tied up with a prostate vibrator shoved up his ass while you go to run errands.
♡︎~NSFW UNDER THE CUT~♡︎ ︎
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Subby Boys!~ Who pull you back down into bed with them voice heavy with sleepy questions as you try to get up and get ready for the day
Where are you going love~
Subby Boys!~Who try and convince you that you don’t actually have to leave, by kissing you and whispering filth into your ears -speaking a bit too haughty for your liking- when you fall back down into bed with them
“You know you don’t really have to leave Mommy~ you could always just stay here and let me serve you instead, doesn’t that sound sooo much more fun than errands~”
Subby Boys!~Who get upset with you when you tell them no, who immediately turn bratty when they don’t get their way, who start bitching about how you’re no fun and how they bet anyone else would be leaping with joy if a man fell at their feet and offered to serve them
“You’re such a cock block why can’t you skip just this once you can’t you do whatever is soooo- important that you have to leave me, later. Anyone else would be exploding with joy at the thought of using a pretty toy like me~
Subby Boys!~ Who finally realize that you’re not impressed by their teasing and let you get up a pout staining their lips while they follow close behind you -as you continue to ignore their antics- still not ready to accept the fact that you can’t just lay in bed with him all day
Common babe it’s just one day let me be your good boy yeah? I’ll do whatever you want Mommy~
Subby Boys!~ Who try to follow you into the bathroom when you finish gathering everything you need for your shower. Who whine and complain when you push them back out the door only for them to sit there obediently waiting for you to get out anyways.
“Why can’t I come in with you?! I promise I won’t try anything too scandalous~ FINE BE THAT WAY THEN ILL JUST WAIT FOR YOU TO GET OUT.”
Subby Boys!~ Who are just now realizing that they’re losing this battle while sitting outside of the bathroom listening to the pattering rhythms of the shower and are now willing to try anything to get you to stay
Subby Boys!~Who watch a little closer than they should when you exit the bathroom wearing nothing but a towel who whisper
“f-fuck…”
under their breath feeling a hard-on growing in their skin tight shorts as they watch you prance about in your makeshift dress
Subby Boys!~Who can’t resist you anymore, who walk up behind your curved figure pressing his needy cock into the swell of your ass to start grinding against you while he whimpers into your ear
“Mommy p-please don’t f-uck leave me I-I need you s-so bad”
Subby Boys!~Who are willing to take a punishment right now if it means you would pay him even the tiniest bit of your attention who would take anything you do to them with a shit eating grin if it meant that you would stay home with him and touch him
Subby Boys!~ Who know they deserve it and quite frankly deserved it much earlier in their teasing but still aren’t expecting it when you finally snap and give them what they’ve earned.
“You’re so needy that you had to act like a horny puppy and hump my ass. Honestly are you so much of a slut for me that you can’t even behave yourself bitch.”
Subby Boys!~Who let out a deep moan when you turn around and squeeze their cock to stop them from getting off who’s cock still twitches even when held so tightly in your grasp because of the names you call him who reply to you through heavy breaths
“Y-yes ma’am I-I’m your horny fucking bitch I-I love being a slut just for you p-please mommy I need you s-so bad right now”
Subby Boys!~Who wait for you to call them names just so that they can get some sick pleasure from it who want you to order them around who would really do Anything you asked
“You wanted to be my dumb fuck attention whore so bad right? Then how about you back this slutty cock up and strip for me then”
Subby Boys!~Who whimper when you let go of their throbbing cock so that they can strip for you who moan as they do so because they think that they’re finally going to get exactly what they wanted
“So obedient, mommy knew that you could be a good little cock~”
Subby Boys!~Whos face flushes res as he mewls when you slap the tip of his cock watching it bounce back into place before turning back to the closet but this time its not for clothes
Subby Boys!~Who look at you with pleading eyes when you turn back around and he sees what you have in your hands (rope, a prostate vibe and a small bottle of lube) who question
“Mommy are you going use those to punish me”
Subby Boys!~Who groan enjoying the stinging pain of you pulling him down to your eye level by his hair to put him in his place and mockingly give him your next set of instructions
“Shut the fuck up bitch a “pretty little toy” like you shouldn’t be talking. Now go get on the bed and spread that pretty ass for me pet.
Subby Boys!~Who love how harsh you’re being with him who loves how you spit his own words back at him who crawls on the bed arching his back while still on his knees putting himself on an embarrassing display for you
Look at you I knew that even a slut as stupid as you could do it good job~
Subby Boys!~Who thank you for praising him even though your tone is dripping with condescension who moan as you slap his ass making sure to teasingly rub your fingers around his hole
Th-thank you Mommy~
Subby Boys!~Who continue obediently spreading their ass for you while you take your time spreading the lube on your fingers who have to bite the sheets to quiet their moans while you prep their hole for the prostate vibrator
Subby Boys!~Who’s ass is so slutty that when you press the vibe into his hole it goes in with no resistance
Subby Boys!~Who sit still as you start tying the rope into intricate knots that bind his arms behind his back and keep his legs bent so that he can’t clamp them together to get any friction for his poor leaking cock
Subby Boys!~Who let’s out the lewdest noise you’ve ever heard when you finally turn the vibe on
Subby Boys!~Who’s already forgotten that this is a punishment and before long is begging you to cum which you happily obliged
“M-mommy ‘m c-Clos-e can I-i please c-cum”
“Of course~”
Subby Boys!~Who cum hard and loudly when you approve his request who notice that the stimulation isn’t stopping as he starts building up to a new high who don’t notice that you are fully dressed and ready to leave him there until it’s too late and he hears the bedroom door shutting behind you
“M-MOMMY PLEASE DON’T L-EAVE ME HE-HERE LIKE TH-THIS”
Subby Boys!~Who still cry for you even after he hears the front door close as well knowing that you can’t hear him
Subby Boys!~Who are still in the same position you left them in when you come back who’ve cum more times than they can count who’s milked dry and broken by the time you get back
Subby Boys!~Who hear the bedroom door open and immediately start moaning for you to help them
“p-pl-ease mom-my mommy m-mommy mommy”
Subby Boys!~Who you shush looking into his pretty crying eyes after you finally turn off the vibrator that has been abusing his prostate for the last three hours, who you comfort for being so good for you
“Shhh it’s okay pretty boy mommy’s here, you did such a great job for me love let mommy get you cleaned up okay?”
Subby Boys!~Who let you take care of them after you’ve removed the rope from his bruised skin and pull the vibe out of his abused hole
Subby Boys!~Who’s tear stained eyes still gaze into yours -while you clean him up- like you hold the world in your hands, even after you subjected him to such torture
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
An-
Literally mind empty I just wanna ruin someone ☠️
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
All content was written by lonleydomcatalog~
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mingsolo · 26 days
Text
hot and buttered
mingi x reader (f) / g: established relationship, smut / wc: 813 / warnings: cursing, masturbation (both), phone sex, semi public sex but not rly / r: 18+
another tipsy drabbles log :^)
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Mingi couldn't believe it.
You said you will be there for the birthday party his mom had prepared for him. It was a little early from his actual birthday, sure, but it was a party for his special day anyways.
A few miles away, you hurriedly finish getting ready,  you know Mingi´s now sulky about you not being able to make it to his parents house, but this client was important and if you didn't go personally to sign things up apparently, it was a deal breaker for them.
Before leaving for the meeting you call him, trying to sound innocent and sweet but the pout on Mingi´s lips was palpable even from the other side of the phone. 
“After this I'll get a few weeks off and we can celebrate for sure! I promise, your birthday isn't coming until next week” 
“Yeah I know…¨Mingi sounded defeated on the other line. “But my mom really wanted you here, and i really miss you…¨
You recognized the tone, his already low tone went lower and he dragged his words, which honestly just made you instinctively rub your tights together. You glance at the clock, you have some time to make it up for him, only a little.
“Mingi, are you alone?” you heard Mingi groan softly, and the sound of his steps hurriedly going somewhere. 
“Mingi! Don't be late, the food is almost ready, is yn getting here soon?” 
The voice of Mingi´s mom sounded in the background, Mingi replying to her a hasty “I'm going to change mom, i'll be outside in a minute!” made you smile. You lay on the bed, waiting for him to get to whatever he wanted to go to, probably his childhood bedroom.  “I'm here, yn?” 
“I'm here too, tell me what you´ ve been thinking?” 
Mingi whispers. “You here, with me. In my bedroom. You touch me, licking me…¨he stops and groans. “I'm sorry I'm just… I need you”
“It's fine love, I'm here to help you not miss me so much, again, I'm sorry I can't be there today, but ill make it up for you meanwhile, can you lay down for me on your bed?¨ Mingi swallows and you can hear him shifting his position. “Good. now I'm thinking how much I wish to sit between your legs and take in my mouth, you must be so hard right now” Mingi moans, the sounds of his hands on his length pumping slowly are unmistakable. “Imagine how i'd look while i suck you off so good, licking my lips as i get some air, you know how much i struggle to take you whole”
“Fuck” Mingi groans, the palming noises are faster. “Yes, I love that sight, you always do so well” 
Your hands slowly go down the hem of your skirt, slowly rubbing circles over your clit until Mingi´s whimpers and moans get impossible to resist, and you whine wishing you were indeed sucking him off right now. You slide one finger and then another, as his breathing gets more agitated. 
“How many fingers?” he asks plainly, and you bite your lip. He knows you too fucking well. Knows you can't resist his voice more than he can resist yours. 
“Two” you whine, pressing another. “Imagine me licking you, suckign you, as much as i can, you will probably make me choke if im not careful, you so fucking big you know?” you breathe, trying to pace yourself to finish aligning Mingi, who´s wet stroking sounds become louder by the second. 
“When i got back home, ill fuck you so good”
You hummed in response, a moment of silence of just both your breathing and whimpering filled the line that connected you. 
“I'm not resisting anymore… please, let me…” Mingi pleaded. “Please come with me, yeah?” 
“Where do you want it?” the words easily slipping form you, imaging it was his cock and not your fingers inside you. 
“All over you, please just let me…” a loud whine stopped Mingi mid sentence, alongside a loud bang that made you pop your eyes open. 
“Mingi! The food is ready and everyone is waiting outside!¨
“Fuck… “ he whispered, both breathless and annoyed. “One minute, I'm changing!¨´
You laughed loudly. The knot on your stomach evaporated as soon as you heard Mingi´s mom's voice but it made you laugh imagining how much of a mess Mingi would be in this moment. 
“Love, are you alright?” 
“Pff fuck, i made a fucking mess……. not the lamp!” Mingi giggles. You both laughed, embarrassed and amused. “I'm sorry about that, i'll tell everyone you couldn't make it… and, make it up for you as soon as I get home”
“I'm sure you will, I miss you so much” 
“I love you yn, so fucking much” you hear kissing noises on the other side.
“Oh Mingi, I do too.” 
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bloatedandalone04 · 8 months
Text
He’s Got My Name
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➪the one where everything a.j. does, he does for you.
Warnings: spoilers for takers 2010, once again - no one will read this, swearing, heists, robbing of a bank, mentions of guns, kissing, brief angst if you squint, mentions of cancer, reader is very ill, alcohol consumption, smoking, mentions of blood, pda, indication of smut
Word Count: 3.8k
Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine♡
“Alright, sweetheart, it’s your turn,” John’s voice sounded throughout your ear piece. You quickly pulled open the door to the stairwell and made your way up to the floor that held a plethora of offices. “You remember what to say?”
“Of course,” you state quietly as you confidently walk down the rows of desks. The employees even didn’t give you a second glance as you passed by them and towards one of the empty cubicles. Your skirt and suit jacket made you look like you actually worked here, as did your heels and high bun. After glancing around at the few employees that were near, you pick up the phone from the desk and bring it to your ear that didn’t have the earpiece. 
You dial the number and wait a few seconds before you hear a voice answer, “News 14 hotline,”
“Hi, yes, I’m from the FedCal bank, downtown LA,” you say quickly in a panicked voice, making the pitch sound a bit higher for good measure. “There’s a robbery in progress.”
“Are they still in the bank?”
“Yes,” you answer sharply and make eye contact with a man across the room who was also on the phone. He gives you a concerned look, and you knew you had to wrap this up. “They’re a few floors above mine.”
The person was in the middle of asking another question when you hung up, dropped the phone back down onto the desk and stood up straight. Smoothing out your jacket, you stride back over to the door, smiling brightly at the few employees who looked up at you. 
You could hear the faint sounds of the guys upstairs as they robbed the place, and you all but slammed the door behind you once you were back in the stairwell. As you hopped down the stairs, you reached into your pocket when you felt your phone begin to vibrate. “Yes, my love?” You answer as you reach down to rid your feet of the heels, holding both of them in one hand as you continue to descend. 
“Angel,” A.J.’s voice rang through the phone and had you grinning to yourself. “Did you call the hotline?”
“I did,” you confirm as you neared the bottom floor, holding the phone away from you as a cough raked through your body. After swallowing the small amount of blood that pooled in your mouth, you bring it back to you. “They should be here any minute now.”
“Perfect,” he said. “You’re perfect.”
“So I’ve heard,” you tease as you enter the lobby of the bank, swinging your heels in your hand. You got a few odd looks as you walked along the marbled floor in your bare feet, but your lack of shoes would be the last thing on their mind once they found out what was happening just a few floors above them.
“Alright, get out of there, pretty girl,” A.J. said and you could just picture him blowing out the smoke from his cigarette. “Don’t get caught up when the cops arrive.”
“I won’t,” you promise and stick to it as you push open the front entrance of the bank and step out onto the sidewalk. “Be careful.”
“I will,” came his reply and you grinned when you noticed someone on the phone across the street, panic evident on their face as they were undoubtedly talking to the police and reporting the robbery. When you hear the unmistakable sound of a helicopter approaching, you knew he had to go. “I’ll see you later, baby.”
“See you soon,” you say and end the call, reaching up to let your hair down.  Turning the corner just in time to see the news chopper fly over the roof of the bank, you knew it was only a matter of seconds before A.J. began to play his role of an injured security guard in order to secure their ride out of there.
-
 Hours go by since the robbery, and after blowing up the news helicopter and parting ways, the group reunited a few hours later at the club they frequented. A.J. fell back against the leather armchair as John announced that Ghost was back and out of jail. “So I walk into my house and he’s standing there, drinking my whiskey. I was going to shoot him in the back of his head,”
“You should’ve,” Jake says as he hands A.J. a tall glass of bourbon. “The guy’s been out twenty four hours and already wants to do a job. He’s crazy.”
“Or he’s got huge balls,” Jesse offers from his spot on the stool. 
“Yeah, Ghost doesn’t play when it comes to money,” John adds, glancing over at Gordon. “He’s too smart for that.”
“The bastard’s not that smart,” A.J. rasps as he drinks the bourbon. “He’s clever, not smart.”
As the five of them conversed about the return of their former member, Rachel entered the room in a small black dress, looking nothing short of beautiful, but she wasn’t who A.J. was waiting for. 
Rachel smiled at the guys before sitting on Jake’s lap, and he grinned at the way his best friend got all flustered around his new fiancée. It was the same way A.J. acted around you when you first got engaged a few months back, and it was still how he acted now. 
He just couldn’t get enough of you. And that was obvious as his face lit up under the blue lights when he saw you enter the room a few seconds later. You were wearing a silver dress that sparkled under the LED lights and the slit in the fabric had him biting down hard on his lip as he caught sight of the exposed skin of your leg and a bit of your thigh. 
“Hi, boys,” you greet, purposely looking at everyone else other than A.J. 
Tease.
“Hey, sweetheart,” John said back as you smiled at him.
“Another successful heist?” You ask, already knowing the answer as you step further into the room. 
“You know it,” A.J. answers and you finally meet his eye. He looked so unbelievably fine in this lighting, and you held back a moan when beckoned you over to him with a curl of his finger. “C’mere, baby.”
You didn’t need to be told twice. 
You were crossing the room within seconds and sitting down on his lap, your legs draped over his thighs as he placed his free hand on your lower back. His lips attach to your neck as your arm wraps around his shoulder, your left hand coming to rest on his chest. Your big engagement ring was on full display and it sparkled under the blue lights of the VIP room. “I missed you today,” you said, already breathless at the feeling of his lips on your neck. 
“Mmm,” he hummed and brushed his nose against yours, turning your head so you were facing him. He kissed you softly, a groan leaving the back of his throat as he pulled you tighter against him. While you were a bit shy at first about kissing him like this in public, A.J. couldn’t care less, and he proved that by guiding you into countless makeout sessions that took place in front of the guys or just in the general public. After two and a half years, you grew to love engaging in PDA with him. “I missed you.”
You adjusted his bowtie as the other four guys fell into a conversation you couldn’t be bothered to listen in on, and neither could A.J. You were on his lap and wearing the most sinful dress he had ever seen on you, and he’s seen you in a lot of sinful dresses, how could he focus on anything else? 
“I hear you blew up the chopper after hijacking it,” you trail off, your mouth directly next to his ear as you two fell into your own little world. 
A.J. ran his hand up and down your hip, running his nose along your jaw as he nodded. “I did,”
You hummed and leaned closer to him. “I wish I could’ve been there to see that,” you whisper and make your voice as seductive as possible. You trace the skin below his ear with your tongue and feel the grunt that vibrated against his chest. “You know how sexy I find it when you do stuff like that.”
“I do,” he said and allowed your hand to grip the side of his face and turn his head so you could press your lips to his in a searing kiss. You run your tongue along his lower lip before his mouth opens and it brushes against his. He noisily breaks the kiss and you reach up to fix his hat that had become crooked during the whole event. “I wish you were there, too, baby, but this one was a bit too risky for you to have been able to stay. I would’ve loved to have had you on my lap while we were in the air, just like this, but I didn’t even like having you in the building with everything that’s going on right now.”
You shake your head and trace your index finger over the maze of freckles on his face. “You don’t need to worry about me,”
He gives you a pointed look and you sigh, eyeing the half empty glass in his hand.
You reached for it, but he was quicker and held it far away from you, his hand moving to tightly grip your waist in a warning. “C’mon,” you whine, giving him your best puppy dog eyes. “Just a sip.”
While they usually worked on him, nothing you could ever do would get him to allow you to drink even a drop of alcohol. “Not a chance, pretty girl,” 
You huffed and slumped against him, watching him down the rest of the bourbon before he set the glass on the table next to the chair. 
“Don’t get all upset with me,” he says once he sat back against the chair, his hand resuming its movement on your hip. His lips were glistening with remnants of the booze and you eyed them with a sense of want. 
And he knew that.
With a sigh, he uses his now free hand to brush away the fallen strands of hair from your face. “Alright,” he murmured, watching the way your eyes lit up. He was never good at denying you completely of the things you desired. “Have your taste.”
Once again, you didn’t need to be told twice. 
You lean in and eagerly press your lips to his, your tongue shooting out to run along his bourbon coated mouth. This way you weren’t actually consuming the drink, but you were getting the faintest taste of it. 
The kiss quickly heats up, and you were mainly licking his lips at this point. Once you are satisfied you pull away and press your forehead against his, knocking his hat out of place again. “Mm,” you hummed as you ran your tongue over your own lips, and A.J. held back a moan at the sight. “Thank you.”
He just grabbed his hat and tossed it next to the glass on the table. A.J. took your hand in his, his thumb turning the ring on your finger a few times as you snuggled up against him. “How are you feeling today?” He asked quietly so the others wouldn’t hear.
You lace your fingers with his and bring your joined hands up to your mouth to be able to press a kiss to the back of his. “I’m fine, Jay, really,” you tell him, glancing into his worry filled eyes. “It’s a better day today. It’s good.”
He wasn’t sure if he should believe your words, but you never gave him a reason to worry about you ever being untruthful to him, so he accepted your answer and pulled you even closer to him, suddenly wanting to take you back home and end the night early. 
And he would’ve done that, except when you excused yourself a few minutes later and he was met with the sight of Ghost, he knew his night had just begun. 
-
A.J.’s body was covered in a thin layer of sweat, as was yours, and he was struggling to hold himself above you while he got you to yet another release. 
It was nearing four in the morning, and a few minutes after he brought you to your peak, he was there as well and was finally able to collapse on the bed next to you. He falls onto his back and glances at out the window, the still open blinds doing nothing to keep out the four am moon. If your shared apartment was on one of the lower floors of the building, A.J. would’ve put the time aside to close the blinds and shield your body from any prying eyes, but seeing as it was on the thirteenth floor out of twenty, he didn’t feel the need. 
He huffs out uneven breaths, his arm blindly wrapping around your waist when he feels you move to lay your head on his bare chest. 
He had a long day, and it was nearing the end, with a new day just a few hours from now. After another successful heist, counting just how much money they received from said heist, finding out about a former ally being released from prison, and being roped into another job from said ally, he was finally able to end his day in the way he had grown so accustomed to. 
A.J. loved spending hours on end with you wrapped up in the sheets, and that was before he allowed body to fully relax and welcome sleep to take over. As cliché as it sounded, your bodies really did fit so well together. He couldn’t remember the last time he had let himself fall this deeply for someone, in fact, he was sure he had never felt the things he did with you before.
Long story short; you had become his entire world just five months into the relationship. You were everything to him.
Once his breathing went back to normal, A.J. turned his head and ran his fingers through your hair, which was a bit damp from sweat. Your eyes were already on him, and he couldn’t help himself as he leaned down to press what felt like the millionth kiss of the night to your lips.
He sighed when he pulled away. “I should tell you before you find out from someone else,” he began.
You lifted your head so it was resting higher on his shoulder now. “Tell me what?”
A.J. ran his free hand through his messy, post-sex hair. “Ghost is out now,” he says and you furrow your brows. “Let him out this morning.”
You bit down on your kiss swollen lip. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”
“Because he was released during the heist. I didn’t find out about it until a few hours ago,” he explained, running his fingers up and down your bare back. “He showed up at the club tonight.”
You prop yourself up on your elbow. “He did?” You ask and he nods. “Where was I?”
“Bathroom,” he hummed, his eyes flickering all over your face. He wanted to tell you how beautiful you looked, but held off as it wasn’t really the time to get into that right now. Damn Ghost. Still, he asked, “You took your meds, right? After you had that bourbon?”
You scoffed. “I didn’t even get a fair taste of it,”
“But you still thanked me for it,” he grinned and you rolled your eyes. “You took them, yeah?”
“Yeah,” you confirmed and tangled your legs with his. “What did Ghost want? When he came to the club?” 
A.J. sighed again. “He wants us to help him do a job,”
“A job? He hasn’t even been out for a day yet,”
“Yeah, well, no one ever accused him of being smart,”
You laughed quietly, your hand tracing over the ink on his left arm. Underneath the faded Yak, in much more vibrant and fresher ink, was your first and middle name. It was in a cursive font, and the two names were spaced out enough that it wrapped around half of his bicep, and could be easily read to anyone who looked at him head on. “Can I ask you to promise me something?”
“You know you can, pretty girl,” he answered quietly. 
“Don’t do anything too reckless, please,” you mumbled against the side of his neck. “You never do more than one job a year, let alone one right after the other. Just, please, be careful. Nothing too crazy, please.”
A.J. laughed, but not in a mocking way. He couldn’t deny the warm feeling that took over his body at your undying concern for him, despite him doing this kind of work for many years now. He was a rookie at it during the early years, but now he was more experienced, and he had you to come home to. “You worried about me, pretty girl?” 
“I always am,” you reply and watch his mouth open, but you cut him off before he could even say anything, “And, yeah, I know you’ll always come back to me and I know about the risks and blah blah blah. Still doesn’t change anything.”
A.J. laughed again, rolling you onto your back and hovering over you once more. “I appreciate your concern, baby. And I love you for it,” he leaned down to press a lingering kiss to your lips, and you held back the tiny moan that threatened to escape. “And I promise I won’t do anything too reckless or crazy this time around. I’ve got you to come back to, remember?”
-
Once A.J. finished explaining Ghost’s plan to you, you shake your head and look up from your place on the ottoman. “I don’t like it,” you say and lift your head to meet his eyes. “I don’t like it at all. It seems like he’s making you guys do all the work while he gets the easy job.”
A.J. nods, lifting his hand in a form of gesture to his words, “Well, he was in jail, baby,” he points out. “It makes sense that he’d want to be more careful this time around.” 
“Still,” you mumble. “I don’t like him getting you to do his dirty work. This was his idea, right? He came up with it? So why isn’t he more involved in it? Wouldn’t it make more sense for him to be more active in this? He knows you guys have already done your job for the year. I mean, he came up with the rule to never do more than one heist a year.”
“Yeah, well, if Ghost needs money, then he’s getting money,” he muttered. “And with the amount he says are in these trucks, I’m not opposed to going all in on this one.”
You raise a brow and fold your arms across your chest. “How much did he say is in them?”
He met your eye as he said, “Twenty million,”
Your eyes widen and you blow out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “Jesus,”
“Yeah, that’s why I’m not jumping at the idea of turning this one down,”
Nodding, you play with your ring. “I get it, really, I do,” you start, trying to figure out how to voice your concerns about the whole thing. “But why do you need that much money? You got a lot from the bank yesterday, isn’t that more than enough to get you through the year?”
“It is,” he agreed and brought the whiskey glass up to his lips. “Well over being more than enough to get us through the year.”
Your heart swelled when he corrected your mistake of not including yourself in your prior question. “Then why are you so adamant on doing this job? You know you don’t owe him anything, right? Ghost got himself into prison, not you or the other guys.”
“I know, pretty girl, and that’s not why I’m doing this,” he finished the drink and set the glass down on the mini bar you and he had in the living room of your apartment. “Think about it. Twenty million? Think about how much that will help with your medication and treatment and bills. I’ve saved up most of the cost, but with this, you could be cancer free by the end of the year.” 
You winced at that, hating the fact that he was doing this for you, to make sure you get the treatment you were required to have to save your life. You were already two surgeries in, and well over a hundred thousand dollars in medical bills, but this was too much. 
It was a risky job, and you had an awful feeling about all of it. “You can’t do this for me, A.J.,” you begged, staring up at him. 
He just gave you a look that left no room for arguments. “I can,” he said and you felt so small under his gaze. “And I am. If it means getting you back into that hospital for what could be your final few months of treatment, then I’m doing it. No questions.”
“A.J., think about this,” you pleaded. “You don’t need to do this for me. You can’t.”
“I need you,” he grunted, running his hand through his hair. His hat had been discarded a little while ago, but his hair was still a bit messy from it. “I’m not doing this without you.”
“Doing what?” You asked desperately. 
“Living,” he answered like it was the easiest question he had ever been asked during the twenty nine years of his life. “You’re sick, and the meds aren’t working. Not as much as the surgery will. This will save you, don’t you get that?”
You shook your head and looked down at the floor, unsure of what to say. 
A.J. stepped towards you and crouched down, taking your hands in his. “You won’t have to be in pain anymore, and we can finally continue our lives together, debt and cancer free. Don’t you want that?”
You furrowed your brows. “Of course I want that,” 
He nodded and laced your fingers together. “Then that’s it,” he stated. “I’m doing this job, and I’m getting you the money that is needed to keep you in my life.”
You wanted to fight him on this some more, but you knew his mind was made up. And it had been since the minute Ghost told him about the plan. 
So, instead of fighting him, you wrap your arms around his neck and press your lips to his. He stands up with you in his arms, his lips meshing against yours in a needy kiss. “I love you,” you murmur against his mouth. “I love you so much.”
“I love you,” he said back and gently guided you towards the couch, letting his body hover over yours once you landed on the cushion with a soft thud.
-
Part 2
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ethansluvbot · 1 year
Note
Hey can you do Jack Champion x Actress!Reader, Where Jack has a crush on her and he like dms her?
FLAWLESS | JACK CHAMPION
summary: jacks had a crush on you for a while now. she's a great actress that he admires. one night he decides its time to finally message her.
warnings: none just fluff :)
an: sorry this is so so so short. i’m so sick so i’ll get to the request and write extra today!! i hope this is how you expected it :)
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liked by jennaortega, baileybliss, jackchampion, and others
yourusername: sending kisses from thailand!
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fan01 you’re so gorgeous, i can’t wait to see the movie!!
yourusername thank you so much!!
jackchampion are you having a good time? the view looks amazing :)
yourusername i love it, thank you!
baileybliss trying to steal my girl?
masongooding my boys trying to make a move?
fan02 you’re so stunning
fan03 THE PASTA YUM
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it wasn't unnoticeable that jack has a huge crush on y/n. he was always commenting, liking and reposting her post. he watched all of the movies that she started in and rewatched the shows. he even tried to get jenna to set you two up.
he would've made a move earlier but he was afraid of rejection. maybe it was the fact that he had alcohol in his system that he messaged you.
all he said was a simple hey, "really?" he thought to himself. he should've said something to intrigue her more. he threw his phone and ran away acting like a little girl. it was probably about ten minutes later that he finally decided to check his phone.
y/n scrolled through her messages until she saw his name pop up. all he said was a simple greeting, but you still was amused by it. she tapped the message quickly thinking of the best thing to send back.
hi :)
it shocked him that he even got a reply back. he tried his best to understand what just happened to him. (he’d probably start kicking his feet like a little girl)
i’m going to be honest, i don’t know what to say because i’m still in shock
that was the only thing that could come out after 20 minutes of thinking. she replied pretty quickly to him.
ill give you time to process this ;) i’m going out to lunch, maybe you can join me?
hell yes :)
jack spent at least a half an hour trying to pick a outfit. after he still didn’t figure it out he resorted to calling his mom. which she helped him pick out a outfit quickly.
it was a understatement to say jack was nervous. this is all he wanted. he wanted her. he got into the car and drove to the panera. to be honest he wasn't the biggest fan of panera, but he did it all for her. he would do anything for her.
she sat there waiting with a fresh bowl of soup. he was at least 30 minutes late to their "date". the sound of the bell from the door made her meet the eyes of jack. she smiled waving him over to her.
"hey! sorry i'm late, i couldn't pick out an outfit to wear." she nodded to him. why did she make him that nervous? it's not like they never interacted before. maybe only one or two times.
"i promise i'm friendly," she said brushing her hand against him. that didn't calm any of his nerves. he would just have to be himself and hope she would accept him.
an hour later they finally began to laugh together. it was almost like they had known each other for a long time. he wondered if she actually thought about him more than a friend.
"i really do like you, no matter what i'll wait for you." jack said. you both finished up your lunch and were getting ready to leave. you looked up to him meeting his puppy dog eyes. no one could say no to that.
you looked at his lips and then directly into his eyes. leaning up you attached yourself to his lips. your arm reaching up to curl in his hair.
"i'll text you later stranger," she gave him once last kiss on the lips. she never met someone like her. someone that she could spend her life laughing with. she wondered if something would actually happen between them.
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yujo-nishimura · 3 months
Text
All the rage
A fauxpax at your job leads to some intimate time with your boss Sir Crocodile and even a promotion...
Warning: gore, blood, violence, smut, Sir Crocodile x female reader (It is not as gory as I intended it to write because I also do not want my readers to be disgusted)
NSFW - minors do not interact
words: 1932
I am tagging @lostfirefly since she has explicitly asked for it and she will understand the background of the story.. ;)
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What began as a promising career path quickly transformed into a daily grind filled with frustration. Your boss had placed you on the front lines of sales, fully aware that it was your charm and physical appearance that kept customers engaged, rather than the actual product you were selling. Initially, the attention may have been enjoyable, but it rapidly developed into an arduous routine of forcing a smile and feigning interest in even the most absurd customer requests.
In addition to your job-related frustrations, you hated the commute, enduring endless waits for public transportation alongside the empty expressions of fellow passengers. To make things even more difficult, you had developed romantic feelings for your boss, Mr. Crocodile, who failed to provide the attention you yearned for. Nevertheless, he remained the sole reason you clung to the job, at least for a little while longer. 
After enduring yet another exhausting and sweltering morning commute, coupled with three customer calls riddled with complaints, it's no wonder that you finally reached your breaking point.
The client you were scheduled to meet today had already displayed unpleasant behavior over the phone. However, you tried to stay optimistic, believing that people tend to be kinder in person compared to phone or email interactions. As the clock struck 10, the client was still nowhere to be seen, and impatience crept in, knowing your aversion to tardiness. Eventually, he arrived at 10:30, nearly an hour late. Upon entering your office, he offered no apology, opting instead for a shy smile. With his greasy blonde hair, ill-fitting suit, and repulsive demeanor, you took a deep breath and, attempting to maintain your professionalism, offered him a seat and asked if he wanted tea or coffee. To your annoyance, he requested soda water, the one thing you hadn't offered. You reluctantly went to the small fridge in search of anything to satisfy his stupid request.
Upon your return, he sported a sly grin and made inappropriate comments about your appearance as you turned around to face him. For a moment, you contemplated ending the conversation then and there. Not only because of the harassment, but also because he had already exhibited a series of missteps from the start, leading you to believe it would only worsen. However, you reminded yourself that this client had promised substantial purchases, resulting in a significant deal that would not only make you proud but also capture your boss's attention.
As you settled down before the client, you ensured your suit jacket and skirt were impeccably aligned, carefully placing product flyers on the glass coffee table. "So, as we discussed on the phone, this is what we can offer, and we're willing to negotiate a generous discount for bulk purchases," you initiated your customary sales pitch, fully aware that the man was likely not paying attention at all.
"I wasn't aware that they allowed women to work at Cross Guild Corp. as well," he suddenly remarked. 
"Pardon me?" you replied, looking up at him, meeting his watery blue eyes and sly grin once again. 
"I believe men excel in sales and business, but I can see why they placed you on the front line. You're a cute little Missy with a nice little butt. Are they sharing you around here?" 
"Sir...!" you sighed deeply, mustering all your strength to restrain yourself from snapping at him. "At Cross Guild Corp., our team strives to create an inclusive environment that does not discriminate based on gender or sexuality..." you trailed off, realizing that you sounded like a spokesperson for your company's marketing campaign. 
"I actually came here just to find out about your sexuality, girl, since you sounded so nice on the phone!" To your horror, the client stood up, walked around the table, and sat down next to you on the large leather couch. His sly grin remained etched on his face, and you understood that he had no intention of making any purchases. As he forcefully grabbed your hand and pushed it between his legs, you gasped. Your phone lay on the table, and the imposing wooden doors prevented any sound from escaping to alert your colleagues of your distress. Your eyes fell on the letter opener on the table, next to the flyers and paperwork from the morning. 
“I will give you a good tip, so show me - how is your head…!”, he murmured and the grip on your hand got tighter. That was your breaking point. In a split-second decision, you instinctively reached for the letter opener resting on your desk. Its design was reminiscent of the sword once wielded by your chief manager Mihawk, a renowned sword master.
With a swift motion and without any regret you stabbed the small iron blade into the neck of your attacker, making his eyes go wide in disbelief over the blood fountain suddenly gushing out from under his ear. He gargled, trying to cover the wound and hissed “You fucking bitch!” but you had already stood up, trying to get away from the fountain of blood spilling over the leather couch and your black suit and sheer tights.
The guy had finally stopped smiling and you felt a sense of relief. Still heavily breathing you went to your desk trying to grab anything to hold on to. You were still in shock but you also felt like this was the only thing you needed to do today. Your work was done here, time to punch out and go home.
As the client gasped for his final breaths on the couch, a sudden knock at the door startled you. Without hesitation, your boss, Sir Crocodile, made his entrance into the office, dressed impeccably in a sleek black suit, his presence accentuated by the cigar he held. 
"Y/n, I was just coming in to discuss the sales numbers from last month and review our plans for Q3..." he began, but his words trailed off abruptly as his gaze fell upon your pale face, the crimson stains on your hands, and the somber scene that unfolded on the couch before him. 
"Oh..." he remarked, his reaction to a dying person being the one you least expected from all possible responses.
“I…!”, that was all you were able to say, looking in horror at your own hands and the blood stains on the carpet. 
"Did the sales proposal go wrong?" your boss inquired, carefully placing the documents on a nearby shelf to avoid any stains. 
"He... he tried to assault me," you stammered, your voice trembling as you spoke. 
Crocodile approached the lifeless figure and casually lifted his arm before letting it drop back onto the couch with a nonchalant "flop." 
"What a tasteless suit brand. He reeks of cheap whiskey as well... I think you handled the situation very well, dear Y/n!" 
You couldn't believe what you were hearing as your boss praised you. 
"Are you alright, though? It must have been quite a shock for you..." 
With just two swift strides, your boss stood before you, his towering presence simultaneously intimidating and comforting. He gently took hold of your blood-stained hands, inspecting them as though he had stumbled upon a hidden treasure. 
"I'm... I'm fine, I suppose," you whispered, relieved to be able to utter any words at all. 
"How about you take the rest of the day off, my dear?" Crocodile suddenly suggested, causing your heart to race. Did your beloved boss just refer to you as "my dear"?
“I am fine, Sir..!”, you tried to utter and you looked into his dark purple eyes. A rush of adrenaline had run through your body, heightened now by the sensation of Crocodile's warm skin on yours.
He gently raised your hands to his mouth and you gasped in disbelief as he carefully opened his lips, licking over the blood on your fingers.
The tension in the office got unbearable and you suddenly realized that the death of the client and you having killed him had turned Sir Crocodile on. He didn't even ask for your approval, he did not need to hear it, seeing the same fire in your eyes as mirrored in his own was enough proof for him. Without hesitation he quickly grabbed your hips, pushing you up on your wooden office desk, starting to greedily kiss you. His lips tasted like cigar smoke and blood and it made your mind go blank.
Instinctively you wrapped your legs around his waist and put your arms around his shoulders. You were only kissing but you already felt like moaning into his mouth, your arousal palpable. Crocodile did not wait any longer. While still kissing you, he unbuckled his belt, pulling down both his trousers and underwear. His throbbing cock was so huge, pressing against your clothed folds, for a moment you were not sure if you could take it all. He did not give you a choice. Ripping your tights apart, he pulled down your panties and pushed your skirt up. Your bare ass was seated now on documents from the morning briefing and before your boss embraced you, he quickly checked with his fingers if you were ready for him. The slick sound made him smile, he kissed your neck and gently whispered: 
“Killing that guy turned you on, didn't it?”
Without waiting for your reply he pushed into you, his full length filling you in an instant. Surprisingly you were ready to take him - there was no pain, only pleasure. As he started to move relentlessly into you, your thighs and your butt started slapping against the wood of the desk. You moaned into his shoulder, feeling his big cock filling you to the brim. As you held onto him you were able to peek over his shoulder, seeing the lifeless body of the client still slightly bleeding, but much less than earlier, leaving a big crimson puddle on the floor. 
Crocodile gently but vigorously pulled your hair forcing you to look at him. 
“Focus on me, baby. I want you to enjoy every moment of this…!” his deep voice was laced with desire, you could feel his cock pulsating against your velvet folds. 
His demand made you feel getting close to your own orgasm, he pressed his hand on your mouth, trying to stifle your moans and holding on to you while his motions grew more forceful and vigorous. 
“Almost there..!”, he leaned over and whispered these words into your ear.
“I underestimated you, I knew you were beautiful and charming.. but I did not think you had the guts to kill someone…!”, his voice turned husky from the fast-paced breaths.
You pushed your nails into his skin and threw your head back as the orgasm washed over you like a wave. Seeing you squirting all over his cock made him go wild, with some last stuttering movements he pushed his cum inside of you, gently collapsing with his massive body on your suit jacket. You both were panting, the room was hot and sticky, the scent of blood and wrongdoing hung in the air.
He slowly stood upright, handing you your underwear and pulling up his trousers, adjusting his tie in a swift movement. 
Still overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment you silently grabbed your panties, pushing them into your jacket pocket instead of putting them back on. 
"Well, I've been in need of a personal assistant for quite some time now," Crocodile cleared his throat, smoothing back his slicked hair with a swift gesture. "How about we tidy up this mess together and then discuss your well-deserved promotion?"
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