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3cremepie3 · 22 hours

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#1 manger

Synopsis - You the number one manger of the NRC basketball team get into a bit of trouble with the star players. How far would you go to get back your beloved position? Ace, Jamil, Floyd x reader

Warnings - Smut 18+ ,cursing, bribery, anal, (mentions) virginity loss, (mentions of) starvation, arguing, toxicity, betrayal

A/n - This was definitely one of the nastiest fics I wrote. And it’s just gonna get worse if I do a part 2 lol!! This is not fully edited bear with the writing for now!!!

“Shoot it, Floyd!” You screamed jumping up out of your seat. There were 3 seconds left on the clock but time felt frozen. Your team had the opportunity to win if they made this one shot. But things don’t always work out. Especially when you have a dopey bipolar teammate that wasn’t paying attention and somehow had the ball slam on his head. It’s safe to say you guys lost with flying colors.

Time unfroze and the roar of Royal Sword Academy’s team almost made you fall over. You sat back in your seat chuckling as Floyd’s mouth stayed open. You the team manager should have been checking on him. But the situation was just so funny.

The sound it made and the way he fell back like a rag doll it was just comical. You began to laugh like a hyena practically sobbing as tears fell on your face. You put your hands over your face in shame as people began to stare at you. And for a while, you sat laughing replaying the situation over and over.

Now that you thought about it the whole game itself was pretty funny. Ace almost fought a player who kept fowling him but was held back by Jamil who looked like the interaction aged him 20 years a minute. God you love managing the team it was like a free movie.

“Something funny Shrimpy”. Floyd whispered into your ear causing your head to shoot up. “God you scared me Floyd.” You said wiping tears out of your eyes. “No it’s nothing,” you smirked. “Then why did I hear you laughing at our failures the whole game?” No, it wasn’t like that I swear!” Your smile twisted awkwardly downwards trying to hide itself. “Lies make me wanna squeeze ya’ even harder you know?”

Floyd had that crazy look in his eyes so you know he meant business but still you couldn’t contain yourself. You looked down from his harsh gaze in gave into the silliness which was probably your worst mistake.“Up now,” he demanded. His large hand met your shoulder gripping it so tightly it knocked the air out of your lungs. “Ahh let go of me,” you protested. You kicked Floyd in the shin to free yourself before running away from him into the locker room.

You knew some time had passed but damn it was unusually quiet. Normally you would walk with your eyes closed to avoid seeing gross dicks and hear a bunch of bustle. But you heard nothing except the stream of a few shower heads.

Once you got out of the locker room you faced the grim reality of why everything was so quiet. Vargas sent everyone Home except for a few star players he had to chew into. You stood behind him which was your duty as the manager.

“You could’ve gotten suspended for the whole season,” Vargas seethed. “What were you thinking Ace!” Hey, he hit me first,” Ace added. “Because you talked about his damn mother.” Oh wow,” you laughed. “Is something funny Y/n,” Vargas asked. “This whole time something’s been just cracking you up huh? What type of manager laughs at her team? Huh, answer me step up and answer me.” You stepped up in front of the player's throat now suddenly dry.

“I apologize,” you spoke quietly. “What was that you were too quiet.” Vargas boomed into your ear. “I’m sorry for laughing at you guys,” you raised your voice annoyed. “That’s what I thought,” Floyd interrupted. “You act like your scrawny ass could do any better.”

“I can assure you that if I had your build I could. I wouldn’t be like you Floyd just dazing off into the sunset when we have championships at stake,” you challenged. “Shrimpy you need to watch your mouth before I watch it for you,” Floyd threatened.

“Floyd that’s enough let’s listen to her she’s our manager, Jamil sighed.” What’s that sigh for,” you huffed. “Well, you’re not exactly the best person to be in the position you’re in. You can’t even contain your composure.”

“Jamil’s right it’s embarrassing,” Ace claimed. “Embarrassing you wanna know what’s embarrassing you dumb asses is constantly defending this team. Everyday I go into class and Ace can testify this I’m always having to stick up for this team.”

“Maybe if you guys took shit seriously then I wouldn’t have to laugh, you snapped.” That’s enough out of all of you,” Vargas stomped. The entire gym went quiet down to his immense anger.

Never in your days at night raven had you seen him so angry. “Since you all can’t take shit seriously your off the team until further notice.” Wait but coach I didn’t do anything,” Jamil objected. “Me either it was all that bitches Y/n’s fault,” Floyd insisted.

“Who the fuck are you calling a bitch,” you questioned? “The only bitch made person in here,” he smirked. “God Floyd you’re so lucky I don’t have a gun!” Ladies let’s calm it down Ace,” joked.

You and Floyd looked at him like he had just slapped you. “Ace please don’t make me break up your fights again you have no self control idiot,” Jamil figured. “Who are you calling an idiot.” The four of you were to busy arguing you didn’t notice your coach leaving.

You stormed away after him while the others followed. “Vargas please I really need this job! Do you want me and Grim to starve to death?” By now tears had began to stream out of your eyes.

Vargas didn’t clear about y’all’s pleas as he drove away on his blastcycle. “Fuck now I gotta eat canned bean’s again. I thought I’d get to forget that taste forever.” By now your mascara was smeared all over your face.

“Stop crying you big baby,” Ace remarked. “I can’t. Holy fuck I’m screwed.” You held your head low not wanting to meet the eyes of the silent boys. Not having any more words to say you chose to walk home.

You didn’t even have the energy to strip out of your uniform once you got to bed. Instead you just cuddled up with Grim who slept peacefully. The next day you woke up late. All you had time to do was wash the crust and mascara off your face.

While you walked to class you told Grim avout your new finical state. Which was only enough to buy you cheap junk food for about a week. Grim was upset and offered to beat up Vargas but you told him to hold back.

You lost your position and even if you didn’t agree with your new circumstances you would figure something out. “We’ll be okay Y/n right,” Grim asked. “I hope so,” you pondered.

Two weeks later

Each day, hour , minute was passing by so slow you thought you were in a shitty velocity edit. The pit at your stomach grew larger and larger by day. Food was scarce and you fed Grim before you fed yourself. Thats what a good housewarden does.

You friends tried their best to help you bringing extra meals by whenever they could. Even though you were starving you were grateful for there help. But there was one person you would except nothing from. That person was Ace.

That asshole got you into this situation in the first place. You would take nothing from him. Which is why you rejected his offer to go to the gym.

“This is obviously some sort of harsh prank. I’m not that stupid Ace. I know for a fact they probably don’t want me to show my face there for another hundred years.” Well it’s just me Floyd and Jamil if that makes you feel any better,” Ace stated.

“No that makes me feel worse,” you winced. “Just come with me Y/n so you can get over this weird grudge you have all of a sudden.” You and him bickered the entire way there mostly about how your feelings were completely valid.

But you stopped as you got to the door. You were scared since you weren’t the only one who lost your position. What if they wanted revenge you wondered but it was too late as Ace pulled you in before him.

The gym was empty and for a minute you wanted to ask Ace what his deal was. But Floyd and Jamil both walked out the locker room. You and Ace walked up to them and your arms immediately crossed. “So what can I help you guys with,” you snarked.

The three of them stood around you in an arc. Floyd was the first to speak. “If you didn’t already know we got out positions back,” he declared. “And what’s that got to do with me,” you inquired.

“A lot so shut it Shrimpy.” Thanks to us you may get another chance. Huh what do you say do you wanna be our manger again,” he questioned. “What do you mean thanks to yall,” you asked.

“Vargas and us had a chat and he asked rather or not he should let you back on the team,” Jamil coaxed. “It’s entirely up to us to decide your fate, Ace affirmed. “Yeah we know how bad you want this job,” Jamil snickered.

“We just felt so bad when you were crying Shrimpy my heart almost broke,” Floyd frowned. “I don’t like the look the three of you have. What do you want from me?” Ace put his hand on your shoulder giving it a squeeze.

You backed away from his grasp. “Hey don’t get all scared we just want you to confirm that you want to be back on our team,” Ace sighed. “Of course I will,” you exclaimed. “I would love that actually you guys are the best.” You grabbed them all into a group hug and they hugged back.

“Okay we’ll go tell Vargas the good news after you fuck us,” Ace mumbled. “What was that?” You were still in the middle of the group hug the boys towering over you. You swore you just heard something crazy come out of his mouth but maybe his mispoke.

“He said you’ll get your position back after you fuck us.” Floyd deadpanned into your air sending shivers up your spine. You pushed them off of you only to be grabbed back in. “Don’t leave us so soon,” Jamil whined. “Yeah we really want you back in the team Shrimpy!”

“Duece told me how bad your situation really is. Don’t you need this job? Come on you don’t want Grim to starve,” he shouted. They were right and you hated to admit it. This job really was your make or break it since all other slots in campus were filled up.

“I-i can’t.” Sure you can come one we’ll make you feel good,” Jamil assured you. “Yeah you’ll be nice and full Shrimpy.” Don’t you want to feel good? Ace’s hand rolled down your back and onto your ass. The others hands went to grope you practically everywhere.

“What other choice do you have? It’s either us or halfway starve to death,” Ace reminded you. “Fuck you,” you spat. “Sweetie you were Sutton spit in his mouth,” Jamil commented. “Shrimpy come on you know better then that especially with a body like this. There’s no way you’re a virgin,” Floyd bubbled.

“She hasn’t even had her first kiss yet,” Ace told them. “What no way,” Jamil cackled. “Yup she told me and Duece during truth or dare.” We can help you with that Shrimpy.” How about losing everything to us you can even get your position back? Come on say something already!”

You were to embarrassed to speak. To humiliated to even move but still you nodded your head. “That’s a good girl,” Ace praised. You were quickly hoisted over Floyd’s shoulder and brought to a recovery room.

As you were sat on the bed you thought of the many times you helped them after injuries. This was a betrayal like no other. “Hey pretty are you here with us.” Jamil’s grabbed your jaw making you face him. Floyd was at the opposite edge of the bed watching you interaction while Ace climbed up over you.

The fact that you had no idea where this was going frightened you. “We thought it would be only fair if we all took your first kiss.” How the fuck,” you wondered. “Just open up that pretty mouth you’ll see.” Before you could get a word out you were smothered by all there tongues flowing inside your mouth.

Every ounce of air was stolen from your body as they licked everywhere their tounges could reach. It didn’t help that Jamil and Floyd’s were long and oddly practically gagging you.

You pulled away from all three of them a mixture of spit soaking your chin. You took some time to catch you breath while the others watched you. “That reaction was so damn cute were we to much for you,” Ace pointed out.

“I hope you enjoyed your first kiss Y/n,” Jamil said. You couldn’t even find the words to tell them off as of right now your mind was replaying all the possible scenarios of what could happen next.

As you dozed out hands explored your clothes unbuttoning the fabric that they recently caressed. Soon you were left in your bra and panties. You squeezed you legs shut trying to find some sort of privacy.

“I call her tits I always wanted a titjob ever I saw one in a hentai, Ace grinned.” Well I’ll take her mouth then since someone needs to shut her up,” Floyd sang. “Lucky me I get first dibs on her pussy then!”

Them talking about you like you were some piece of meat should’ve pissed you off. But instead you felt a wet patch form on your panties. “Lay back so we can do our thing Y/n,” Floyd instructed.

The rest of your clothes were pulled up from you in a frenzy. Jamil forcefully pried your legs apart revealing your twitching heat. “Fuck you’re horny already you slut,” he cooed. The three of them shifted until they were in their desired position Jamil was inbetween your legs kissing everywhere but were you needed him.

As you moaned Floyd slipped himself into your mouth. He stretched you mouth open as he thrusted in. With his size your jaw was sure to go slack. Ace lined his thick cock inbetween your tots before spitting a fat globe down as line inbetween them.

“Jamil don’t forget you have to lube up her asshole as well.” I didn’t forget you anal freak we have to be patient with her wait a minute. ” It’s her first time after all.” He gave your clit an open wet kiss that had you clenching against nothing.

His breath so close to you caused you to scoot closer to him. “Hey Shrimpy don’t forget about me. I forget you don’t know how to suck dick. Come one just do what the pornstars do!”

You tried your best to mock what you saw in porn while licking on Floyd’s thick mushroom tip. His whole cock was so sticky and you used your free hand that wasn’t holding Jamil’s head into place to grab him.

It was hard to focus on sucking him as Ace’s movements shook the entire bed. “This feels better then I thought damn your tits are so warm,” he moaned. “Been thinking of doing this to you ever since I saw you at orientation fuck.”

His cock leaked precum all over you chest further adding to the sinful sounds he made. But he wasn’t the only loud one Jamil lapped at your cunt so harshly you thought you would die. God there was so much stimulation at the same time.

You couldn’t stand it much longer and you soon came. Your body shook as you orgasmed and Ace held you down continuing his thrust. “God Shrimpy you’re so bad at this.” Floyd repositioned himself so that his knees were on either side of your head.

“All you have to do is keep your mouth open I’ll do all the work.” Floyd pushed your mouth open his fat cock now forcing itself down your airways. You gagged around him as he hit the bottom of your throat repeatedly. This along with Jamil entering his slender fingers into your cunt had your eyes rolling to the back of you head.

Floyd finally stopped thrusting in you right as Ace groaned loudly painting your chest with his thick cum. “Fuck that felt good.” He slapped his dick on your boobs drizzling out his last bit of cum onto you.

Your eyes noted that he was still semi hard as he smiled down at his creation. Jamil continued to finger your overstimulated cunt. The room was filled with the nosies. “Hey I can save us some time if I get underneath her,” Ace suggested.

“You better not try anything Ace I spent all

This time stretching her for me to break her not you,” Jamil explained. “Yeah I get that dude I was just gonna eat her other hole.” Ace lifted you up and slid his head underneath you.

Your body tensed up immediately realizing where he was about to lick. “No don’t lick there,” you shrieked. “Why anal is the best you’ll like it once you try it I promise you,” Ace claimed. “But it’s dirty,” you uttered.

“Nothing on you is dirty to me now sit on my face. Don’t be afraid to crush me either.” His hands gripped you thighs until you were sat fully on his face. Your legs remained opened and soon Jamil lined his cock up with your slit.

Out of the corner of your eye you saw Floyd with a devious smile on his face. “Better open up nice and wide so you can take us all Shrimpy. Don’t you want your position back? Come on stop shivering your our #1 manger!

“Shoot it Floyd!” You screamed jumping up out of your seat. There was 3 seconds left on the clock but time felt frozen. Your team had the opportunity to win if they made this one shot.

But things don’t always work out. Especially when you have a dopey bipolar teammate that wasn’t paying attention and somehow had the ball slam on his head. It’s safe to say you guys lost with flying colors.

Time unfroze and the roar of royal sword academy’s team almost made you fall over. You sat back in your seat chuckling as Floyd’s mouth stayed open. You the team manger should have been checking on him. But the situation was just so funny.

The sound it made the way he fell back like a rag doll it was just comical. You began to laugh like a hyena practically sobbing as tears fell your face. You put your hands over face in shame as people began to stare at you. And for awhile you sat laughing replaying the situation over and over.

“Really then why did I hear you laughing at our failures the whole game?” No it wasn’t like that I swear!” Your smile twisted awkwardly downwards trying to hide itself. “Lies make me wanna squeeze ya’ even harder you know?”

“Up now,” he demanded. His large hand met you lr shoulder gripping it so tightly it knocked the air out of your lungs. “Ahh let go of me,” you protested. You kicked Floyd in the shin to free yourself before running away from him into the locker room.

You knew some time had past but damn it was unusually quiet. Normally you would walk through your eyes closed to advoid seeing gross dicks and hear a bunch bustle. But you heard nothing except the stream of a few shower heads.

Once you got to the out of the locker room you faced the grim reality of why everything was so quiet. Vargas sent everyone Home except for a few star players he had to chew into. You stood behind him which was your duty as the manager.

“You could’ve gotten suspended for the whole season,” Vargas seethed. “What were you thinking Ace!” Hey he hit me first,” Ace added. “Because you talked about his damn mother.” Oh wow,” you laughed. “Is something funny Y/n,” Vargas asked.

“This whole time something’s been just cracking you up huh? What type of manger laughs at her own team. Huh answer me step up and answer me.” You stepped up in front of the players throat now suddenly dry.

“I apologize,” you spoke quietly. “What was that you were to quiet.” Vargas boomed into your ear. “I’m sorry for laughing at you guys,” you raised your voice annoyed. “That’s what I thought,” Floyd interrupted. “You act like your scrawny ass could do any better.”

“Floyd that’s enough let’s listen to her she’s our manger, Jamil sighed.” What’s that sigh for,” you huffed. “Well you’re not exactly the best person to be in the position you’re in. You can’t even contain your composure.”

“Maybe if you guys took shit seriously then I wouldn’t have to laugh, you snapped.” That’s enough out of all of you,” Vargas stomped. The entire gym went quiet down to his immense anger.

You stormed away after him while the others followed. “Vargas please I really need this job! Do you want me and Grim to starve to death?” By now tears had began to stream out of your eyes.

You lost your position and even if you didn’t agree with your new circumstances you would figure something out. “We’ll be okay Y/n right,” Grim asked. “I hope so,” you pondered.

Two weeks later

That asshole got you into this situation in the first place. You would take nothing from him. Which is why you rejected his offer to go to the gym.

“A lot so shut it Shrimpy.” Thanks to us you may get another chance. Huh what do you say do you wanna be our manger again,” he questioned. “What do you mean thanks to yall,” you asked.

Every ounce of air was stolen from your body as they licked everywhere their tounges could reach. It didn’t help that Jamil and Floyd’s were long and oddly practically gagging you.

Them talking about you like you were some piece of meat should’ve pissed you off. But instead you felt a wet patch form on your panties. “Lay back so we can do our thing Y/n,” Floyd instructed.

His breath so close to you caused you to scoot closer to him. “Hey Shrimpy don’t forget about me. I forget you don’t know how to suck dick. Come one just do what the pornstars do!”

“You better not try anything Ace I spent all

This time stretching her for me to break her not you,” Jamil explained. “Yeah I get that dude I was just gonna eat her other hole.” Ace lifted you up and slid his head underneath you.

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dootznbootz · 2 months

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I'm technically most likely demiromantic (definitely demisexual) which is technically on the aro spectrum but I'm sooooo romance favorable that it almost doesn't feel like it counts????

I'm a huge romantic sap but I'm kind of funky with crushes. I have them and I get them but I'm very particular and I almost have... control over them???

Like when I start to feel the feelings™, I then start looking at a possible relationship through "logic lens".

"Compatible here, there, there too. Okay, we're not with that though, and I will not move on that so therefore it will not work. Alright, cool! Best friend! Best friend! Best friend!"

I can just shut off the feelings™ once I get the feeling it's not gonna work, especially if it's on something I will not change. If I have a feeling there's potential, I let feelings "grow".

#it's not like I'm not “flexible” but there's certain things I just know I can't do that with.#this might not make sense but it felt nice to type out :'D #Mad rambles #I've literally only had three crushes in my life :P #I've never had a “type”. and I don't understand that. Every single one of my crushes looked SOOO different from one another #even behaved differently too.#one of my crushes mentioned someone HE had a crush on and I had the sad. cried in the bathroom then immediately got going on a #“You're fucking fantastic! Go for it!” pep talk only for next monday he mentions it's probably not gonna happen 😅#one probably had a crush on me back and I kick myself often for not realizing it. (read my favorite book when I mentioned it #to him. snuck out of class to see my performance for the “sneak peak” for the school musical. got into trouble on my behalf. etc.) but I wa #DUMB. I once had an ADHD blurt out where I was super embarrassed so then he started doing more stupid shit than I did #to get the attention off me and got into trouble for it and then checked in on me later :'D And I didn't realize ANYTHIGN.#Oh well :P #...realize this is kind of how I plan to write my blorbos but they're shittier about it :P

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k1rishiki · 3 months

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when i saw 'cabin in the woods in middle of nowhere new hampshire' bad i mean it. i have a 65 year old father from northeastern mass that's the only type of vacation i ever go on (if you're wondering what it's like it's like a modern day yellow wallpaper btw) . i know my cabins in middle of nowhere new hampshire. i've been to multiple with better wifi than i currently have. that says a lot btw.

#one of my fave cabin trips was one where i was on my period and don't do tampons so i couldn't swim and there was absolutely nothing to do #there and the only place phones worked at all was in this one building which was a common area (i don't use technology without a wall #directly behind me. this post brought to you by the children of helicopter parents gang) and closed for most of the day. so all i had to do #was draw. listen to the singular episode of tma i had downloaded in preparation for the trip (yeah that's what era it was)#(it was the bonus episode live show recording bc that's what had just come out). pace back and forth from my room to the empty room across #the hall. eat the bags of cherries and saltwater taffy we'd gotten at the nearest grocery store after we checked in. and peel the possibly #lead paint off the walls (in the room across from mine bc if it were mine i might get in trouble or something idk).#i genuinely blame this trip for making my maladaptive daydreaming 50x worse than it already was. also none of the doors locked. the cabin's #main door wasn't even a door it was just an open doorframe. our cabin wasn't even just us either. or that much of a cabin. it was more of a #long building with a doorway to the outside in the middle w like 10 tiny rooms on either side of it. bc of covid they didn't pack it in lik #they normally would and instead just put me and my dad on the far end of one side and then some other family on the other and thank god the #did bc i would've lost my mind otherwise. the doors that didn't lock included the bathroom. which there were two of in the entire building #btw. my dad slept with his door open the entire time we were there. the windows were just screens with no glass. or curtains.#and my dad spent the entire time having ditched me to go swimming. most of the times i saw him were accompanied by 'are you sure you don't #wear tampons' 'we could go borrow a kayak instead' (my dad has a long history of flipping kayaks) or 'you should totally use the outdoor #shower' (he has an unexplainable obsession with outdoor showers and he really wants me to use them. for some reason). the only times i left #the two rooms i was pacing across were mealtimes where i developed a tea addiction which still plagues me to this day. attending the talks #he'd been given the free vacation in exchange for giving. he didn't just decide to go on vacation (however secluded) in the middle of covid #on his own. yes my attendance at the talks was mandatory no i don't remember what they were about it's been 4 years and i wasn't paying #attention. and the one hike around the lake i got to go on. 0/10 i loved it but wouldn't recommend it to anyone. somehow my dad has had the #audacity to suggest going back up there to the same campsite several times and is surprised that i refuse to ever do that again.#that said there was absolutely a net positive and that's that i think i owe things falling apart between me and my groomer to that trip #bc it was the longest period of time i had spent not talking to them since meeting them and i was for the most part not thinking of them an #was focusing in where our interests differed. and genuinely i think it was a turning point for talking to them feeling like a chore and #not basing my schedule entirely around theirs so like . maybe i have rose colored glasses towards this trip nowadays #romeo.txt

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malusokay · 7 months

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becoming a better student ₊˚⊹♡

Prepare for your classes ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Wake up on time. We don't want to be stressed first thing in the morning, right?

Eat breakfast. So you will be able to better focus in class.

Assigned reading and homework. Make sure you are prepared for your classes!! :)

Review your notes. Going through some of your flashcards before class is really helpful.

Check your bag and charge your devices. Ensure you have everything you need: Books, homework, chargers, pens, water...

In Class ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Listen and pay attention. You can save yourself a lot of trouble by simply paying attention, trust me.

Take notes. My favourite note-taking method is the Cornell method; I can make a separate post on that!! <3

"Quick notes." If you struggle with note-taking, try taking quick and messy notes. You can clean them up once you get home!!

Engage. If you have any questions or don't understand something, make sure to ask!! Most teachers really appreciate students who speak up. :)

No distractions. Turn off your phone, no chatting, you'll be glad...

After class ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Finish your assignments as soon as you can. Go home, put on a cosy outfit, have a snack, and get working!! <3

Prepare flash cards. A great way of reviewing your notes, too... :)

Update your Study schedule. Write down any assignment and due dates, reading you must do, upcoming tests, etc...

Clean up your notes. Review them, highlight the important parts, and maybe even make them look cute!! :)

Don't avoid topics/Subjects you dislike. I know it is tempting, but you can't avoid them forever, so you might as well get them done

Structure and routine ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Goals and Priorities. Keep them realistic and manageable.

Time management. Having a set schedule makes studying less overwhelming; it takes some discipline but is so worth it!! <3

Develop a routine. Figure out what works best for you; I prefer studying in the morning or at night.

No "zero days". Even if you can only do a bit, do it!! NO. ZERO. DAYS.

Remember your goals. Dreams will keep you motivated; remind yourself of what you're working for!! <3

Self-care and balance ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Don't forget about your hobbies. You need to do things that make you happy, so make time for those things!!

Maintain a balanced diet. I know chocolates and junk are tempting, especially when you are busy studying all day, but you're not doing yourself any favours.

Sleep. Sleep. Sleep. 8 Hours. Non-negotiable.

Exercise regularly. Even if it's just a walk, put on some headphones, listen to music, and give yourself a break. <3

Care for your social life. Reach out to your friends, make plans, and keep in touch; a good work-life balance is critical!!

Romanticising ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Study dates. Meet up with your friends at a cosy cafe, discuss your work, and have some fun!! Studying doesn't have to be all serious all the time ;)

Silly Pinterest boards. Visualising your goals will help you find motivation!!

Music to set the mood. I have a bunch of playlists on my Spotify that might help!! <3

Cosy sweater and candles. The cosy Rory Gilmore vibes haha...

Getting a coffee before class. A little treat before things get serious... Simple pleasures, you know? :)

Babes, The hiatus is OVER, and I'm finally back!! I got a lot of asks on studying, burnout, and school in general, so I thought, why not start off with a little student guide?? I Hope October has been kind to you, and school hasn't been too overwhelming (though I know it, unfortunately, has been for many of you), and I'm glad to finally be back!! <33

As always, Please feel free to add your own suggestions and tips in the comments!!

✩‧₊*:・love ya ･:*₊‧✩

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yandere-daydreams · 5 months

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Title: Idolification.

Pairing: Yandere!Itadori Yuuji x Reader (JJK).

Word Count: 5.0k.

TW: No Curse/College AU, Fem!Reader, Non/Con, Prolonged Stalking, (Unintentional) Emotional Manipulation, Oral Sex, Drunk Sex, Unprotected Sex, Age Gap (Reader's 27, Yuuji's 22), Intimidation, Brief Mommy Kink, Pepper Spray, and Obsessive Behavior. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.

“I’m so, so, so, so sorry.”

“It was an accident, you don’t have to—” Yuuji was cut off by another splash of milk, quickly followed by another jet of water. Her makeshift treatment was harsh, the temperature alternating unpredictably between ice cold and scalding hot, but Yuuji took the abuse with a smile that was almost bright enough to distract you from the red, aggravated skin around his eyes. Almost. “It’s alright,” he managed, eventually, doing his best not to sound like he was being slowly drowned in your bathtub. “Believe it or not, that’s only the second worst thing I’ve gotten in my eyes.”

Knowing him, it was probably closer to the fourth or fifth, but that did little to ease your guilt. He’d been leaving as you were getting home from your second twelve-hour shift of the week, and from there, it’d been a comedy of errors. He spotted you coming down the hall, haggard and bleary-eyed, and saw the babysitter who’d spent more summers than not keeping him (and, by association, his older half-brother) out of trouble before their family fell off of the face of the planet, and reacted the way Yuuji reacted to most things – with open arms and a contagious smile. You’d looked at him, a far cry from the kid you’d spent so much time looking after, and seen a very strange, very grown man loitering outside of the door to your shoebox of an apartment before charging towards you with a manic expression and, well, you had always wanted an excuse to use the pepper spray you carried near-religiously. It was only a shame it had to be on someone as sweet as Yuuji.

Now, you were on your knees on the floor of your bathroom, your fingers tangled in Yuuji’s hair as your roommate gently waterboarded him with a cartoon of organic oat milk in one hand and your decade-old showerhead in the other. The front of his t-shirt was soaked through, his lung half-flooded at least, but he was still grinning like you’d greeted him with a blank check and a litter of puppies. “Honestly, it’s on me,” he insisted, his enthusiasm too potent not to be genuine. “Miss Shoko mentioned she was living with someone.”

At the mention of your roommate, Shoko Ieiri, your attention shifted to the woman in-question. You weren’t an idiot. After the shock died down, it hadn’t taken long for you to piece together why a young man would be rushing to get out of your apartment while your attractive (albeit, socially dead) roommate was home alone. When she met your prying eyes, you shot her a pointed glare. “Cradle rocker.”

She threatened to turn the showerhead on you, but relented as soon as you flinched away. “He’s in one of my classes,” she muttered, then pushed herself to her feet with a soft groan. “We’re out of milk,” she said, shaking the empty carton. “Let his eyes air-dry. I’ll be in my office – come get me if he starts crying again.”

“I’m a doctor too, y’know.”

“You’ll be a doctor in another year. Right now, you’re an intern.” She eyed Yuuji wearily. “An intern who physically assaults her patients, at that.”

Without any real way to retort, you stuck your tongue out – a gesture Shoko mimicked as she slipped out of the crime scene that was your bathroom. Despite Shoko’s advice, you fished a towel off the nearest rack and handed it to Yuuji, who accepted it with a grateful hum. “I really am sorry,” you repeated, burying your face in your hands. “It’s just, it’s been so long, and you look so different, and god, it’s been—”

“—ten years,” Yuuji filled in, probably tired of hearing you repeat the same two excuses. “I remember, ‘cuz you invited us to your graduation that year. I wanted to go, too, but Gramps got sick and…” He trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck with an airy chuckle. “You know how it is.”

“Oh my god,” you gasped. “I loved your grandfather. How is he?”

Yuuji’s smile wavered for the first time. “He passed, actually. A few years ago.”

Fuck.

If the building was going to collapse and bury you in the rubble, that would’ve been the time.

“Sukuna’s doing good, though,” Yuuji went on, kind enough to pretend there hadn’t been a lapse. “He opened a restaurant a few months ago. It’s a hole-in-the-wall kind of place, but it’s been keeping him out of the ring.” His expression brightened. “And you’re a doctor! I mean, I knew you would be, but you’re a doctor!”

You felt your face heat up his brother’s name, your eyes falling to the tiled floor. “Almost a doctor. I just started my internship.” And they’d already managed to work you half to death. “You’re in med school, right? Shoko never teaches undergrad.”

“It’s my first semester,” he said with a slight laugh. “It’s harder than I thought it’d be, though. Miss Shoko offered to give me a few pointers, but, y’know—” He sighed, let his head lull back. “I’m starting to think I’m just not smart enough for stuff like this.”

“You shouldn’t say that kind of thing about yourself. You’ve always been—” You cut yourself off with a sudden gasp, clapping your hands together. “If you’re struggling, let me help you study! I have tomorrow off, and I promise, I’m not as strict as Shoko.”

Immediately, he straightened up, your towel still strung around his neck and his smile returned to its full brightness. It only dimmed slightly when he glanced down at his damp shirt. “…there won’t be as much pepper spray this time, right?”

His smile was as contagious as it’d been when he was still a kid, begging you to let him stay up yet another hour past his already-lenient bedtime. Despite his bloodshot eyes and your lingering, only slightly lessened guilt, you found yourself biting back a grin.

“No pepper spray, this time. I promise.”

“Room for one more?”

She glanced over her shoulder as you struggled past the jammed sliding door, taking a moment to evaluate your stiff shoulders and strained smile over the thick frames of her glasses before nodding curtly. Your relief was immediate and all-encompassing. Honestly, you should’ve known better than to do anything but shake your head and flee the country when Yuuji invited you to hang out with a few of his friends, but he’d sworn up and down that it wasn’t a party and promised that you wouldn’t be out of place and pouted in a way you’d never been able to resist. You were starting to think that, no matter how old you got, you’d never learn to say ‘no’ to Yuuji.

The blaring music was only vaguely muffled by the glass, the blurry outlines of other guests playing behind thin curtains. There was a red solo cup in your hand, a lipstick stain on your cheek from a girl who’d passed out half an hour ago, but you were hyper-aware that you were too old to be at a college party with people at least half a decade younger than you, in the best cases. You braced yourself against the balcony railing with a soft groan, crossing your arms and hanging your head low enough to warrant a hum of sympathy from the woman next to you. She held up a box of cigarettes – the cheap kind you and Shoko used to split on the days you had to decide between food and rent – and you accepted her offer with the kind of gratitude you could only assume a starving lion would’ve shown to a limping gazelle.

“Maki,” she said, shaking one into your open palm and fishing a lighter out of her pocket. “You’re one of Itadori’s friends?”

“You could say that.” You let her light you up before taking a shaky drag, the bitter taste a welcome distraction. “I’ve been tutoring him for a few weeks. I think he just invited me as a way to say ‘thank you’.”

Her eyes flashed with recognition, the corner of his lips turning upward for the first time. “You’re the chick who used to babysit him. (Y/n), right?”

“He’s mentioned me?”

“He won’t shut up about you. Every other word out of his mouth is ‘(Y/n) this’ or ‘(Y//n) that’.” She tapped her cigarette against the edge of the railing, sending a few flakes of ash fluttering down to the street below. “Megumi gets it the worst, but we’ve all had to see the fucking pictures.”

“That… that sounds like him.” You forced out a half-hearted laugh, then wavered. “I’m sorry, pictures?”

Maki opened her mouth, but the balcony door was jerked open before she could respond. Yuji appeared in the open entryway, cheeks flushed and grin wide. He drawled your name in a single slur before moving on to more important topics. “We found a—We found a karaoke machine! ‘gumi thinks he can get it running!”

You sent Maki an apologetic look, but she only shrugged, a sliver of a grin. “Better get him tucked in.”

This time, when you smiled back, it didn’t quite reach your eyes.

It took a month for Yuuji to start ‘forgetting’ his textbooks when he came over for your little study sessions.

It took three for Yuuji to drop the pretense of studying at all – calling you out to some late-night diner or lethargic early-morning café or, better yet, showing up at your apartment door unannounced and empty-handed with only that unnerving smile and a half-baked excuse to spend time with you.

It took six for his hand to drift just a little lower than your shoulder while you watched some awful, b-rated horror movie on your well-beaten couch. You let him reach your waist before clearing your throat and shifting away, your smile pained.

“I… I think you should probably leave,” you half-mumbled, your voice shaking. “It’s getting late.”

“We haven’t even gotten to the best part yet.” Predictably, Yuuji was undeterred. His persistence used to be endearing, but now, it just felt unfair. “I don’t mind sleeping over, if that’s what you’re worried about. It’s not like we’ve never spent the night together.”

A nervous laugh, his hand planted just a little too close to your thigh. “I wish you wouldn’t phrase it like—”

“I mean, I know I’m your type.” It was almost impressive, what he could say with such an innocent expression. His free hand found its way to your other side, pinning you between the arm of the couch and his broad chest. “I know you had a thing for Sukuna, and everyone says we’re practically identical. That means you should be into me too, right?”

“Yuuji,” Your eyes darted to your phone, left absent-mindedly on your coffee table. The urge was there, but it wasn’t like he would actually hurt you. He’d always been a sweet kid – a little overzealous, but that wasn’t a crime. This was just… a bad decision, one you had to stop him from making before he did something he’d regret. “Sukuna is my age, and—”

“I don’t care about that.” He cut in swiftly, definitively. His bright eyes had glazed over, catching the dim light of your T.V. as he leaned in further, as his face came to hover less than a full breath away from yours. “I’ve loved you since I was eight. Can Sukuna say that?”

“That’s not—”

“I know you used to fuck him.” His chest was touching yours, now, his breath hot against your skin. “I know you’d fuck him again, if he was here. I know—”

You didn’t give him a chance to finish. It was a weak blow, simultaneously hesitant and instinctual, but your open palm made contact with his cheek with a deafening crack, his head snapping to the side and putting that much more distance between his body and yours. He moved to cup his swelling cheek, and you took the opportunity to slip out from underneath him and stumble to your feet. “I think you should leave,” you repeated, the words spat hastily enough to blend together. “Please, Yuuji.”

For a second, he didn’t move, didn’t speak.

Then, he turned to face you, his smile wiped away and his expression so blank, you couldn’t remember how you’d ever looked at him and saw anything other than void.

He didn’t say anything, only pushing himself to his feet and shambling out of your living room. You kept your eyes on the ground until his footsteps faded out of earshot, until you heard the front door creak open and slam shut with enough force to shake the walls.

When you were sure he was gone, you collapsed onto your couch and laid motionless while an actress screamed in the background.

“Your golden boy’s asking about you, again.”

You groaned, buckling at the waist and burying your face in your arms. Shoko glanced up from the exams she was grading, but whatever sympathy she might’ve felt apparently didn’t warrant the effort it would’ve taken to reach across the table to comfort you. “Satoru’s been getting it, too,” she went on. “That’s how you know it’s bad. I can’t remember the last time someone managed to talk over that narcissist.”

“I’m sorry.” You couldn’t remember how many times you’d already apologized for Yuuji’s recent fixation. “He’s… probably just worried about his grades, or something.”

Her lips quirked into a frown. “What are you talking about?”

“I was helping him study,” you admitted, reluctantly. As much as Shoko had to hear about your unruly patients and patronizing coworkers, you’d been less open about how much time you were spending with a student fresh out of undergrad. “He’s never been that good with school. I used to have to help him with his homework in elementary school, too.”

This time, she decided your conversation was important enough to earn her full attention. “Itadori’s one of my best students.”

You felt your chest tighten. “But, the first time he came over, you were tutoring—”

She said your name, curt and blunt, and you went quiet. With a sigh, she shook her head, dropping her pen entirely. “When was the last time I offered to personally tutor a struggling student?”

You swallowed dryly. “Never.”

“And when was the last time I gave our full address out to literally anyone?”

“Never,” you said, again. After a second, you added, “Well, there was that one time with Iori…”

“Not the point. I know you don’t want to hear it, but the kid’s a creep. You might have to—”

She was cut off by your phone buzzing against the table. Your eyes scanned over the caller’s name scrawled across the dim screen before moving back to Shoko, her gaze now narrowed into a sharp glare. “Don’t.”

And, for a second, you didn’t. You convinced yourself that you wouldn’t. You told yourself that, after you bought Satoru around of drinks as an apology, you’d do… you’d do something about Yuuji, even if you weren’t sure what you could do, just yet.

Then, you let yourself picture the kid you used to watch for a few dollars an hour while his grandfather was sick and his brother was on the other side of town doing something dubiously legal at best, dead in a ditch at worst – all wide eyes and scuffed elbows and lopsided grins. You let yourself remember the way he’d ramble about his day after you picked him up from school, and how excited he was the first time you made it to one of his school’s sports days, and how he’d clung to you and sobbed the day before his family moved to the other side of the country. At the time, you’d been thankful to have one less responsibility, relieved that you’d never have to see Sukuna again. You’d been selfish, even for a kid.

The phone was in your hand in a moment, the call answered in another. You stood as you brought it to your ear, hoping that would be enough to block out Shoko’s mumbled cursing.

“Yuuji?”

The silence in your car was thick, nearly suffocating.

It’d been one of Yuuji’s friends calling from his phone – the dark-haired one with the monotone voice, barely audible over the blaring music of whichever nightclub they were standing outside of. He’d asked you to, in his own words, ‘come get your problem child’, and when you’d asked why Yuuji needed you specifically, he’d only handed the phone back to Yuuji and let you listen to a full minute of whining, your name the only coherent thing to make it off of Yuuji’s tongue. Shoko urged you not to go, and yet, twenty minutes later, Yuuji was slumped over in your passenger seat, his eyes narrowed and his lips pursed in an uncharacteristic frown.

He was less talkative than he’d been on the phone. The clingier stages of his inebriation had passed, leaving room for a disassociated sort of passiveness that meant, even if you’d been brave enough to try and start a conversation, his response wouldn’t be anything worth that kind of effort. By the time you reached his apartment complex, the knot sitting at the pit of your stomach was equal parts dread and second-hand embarrassment, but you tried to keep your tone light as you turned to him. “It’s time to get out, Yuuji.” And then, when he failed to move, “You’re on your own from here.”

He looked at you, eyes unfocused and hands folded almost childishly over his lap. You softened more than you should’ve at the sight. “…do you need help getting home?”

A second of thought, a quick nod. You shouldn’t. You knew that you really, really shouldn’t.

And yet, somehow, you found yourself in front of Yuuji’s door, fussing over the lock as Yuuji clung to your side, his face buried in the dip of your shoulder. He was cooperative enough; able to stand on his own with minimum swaying but not so lucid that it took more than a gentle suggestion to lead him to his bedroom, where he was more than happy to collapse onto his unmade bed. With a shaky exhale, you turned to leave, but something caught on your sleeve – Yuuji’s hand, when you could bring yourself to check.

“Stay,” he mumbled, his voice dampened by the sheets his face was buried in. “Please?”

You felt your throat go dry. “I can’t.”

You expected him to go shrill and whiny, but he proved to be a touch more mature than the ten-year-old you used to babysit. Rather flatly, he asked, “Why not?”

How were you supposed to answer that? Would it be good enough to say that you didn’t want to, that you couldn’t spend your night looking after a drunk kid you’d known a decade ago, that you’d already done more than you should’ve just by giving him a ride? Was it worth trying to talk to him at all when he could barely hold his head up? Would it do anything to soften the burn of the bile rising into your throat to point out that, the last time you’d been in the same room as him, he’d tried to—

No, it wasn’t and it wouldn’t and you had to leave. With your heart racing in your chest, you tried to jerk yourself out of his hold, but his vice-grip only grew tighter, his head rising up from the mattress just enough to let him stare at you with those big, bleary eyes. “Why not?”

“Yuuji, this isn’t—”

He was so, so much stronger than he had been, the last time you’d seen each other. One second, you were on your feet, at his bedside, and the next, you were on the floor of his bedroom, forced onto your hands and knees while Yuuji’s body pressed into yours from above. “I love you,” he said, his voice as steady as it’d ever been. “I love you, and I—Fuck—” He panted against the back of your neck, something uncomfortably stiff grinding against your ass. “It makes me so fucking hard when you say my name like that.”

A hand slipped under the hem of your top, his palm pressing into the small of your back. You moved to speak, then thought better of it, biting into your bottom lip as your anxious squirming turned to full-blown struggling. Yuuji only laughed, the noise airy and affectionate, winding an arm around your waist and pulling you that much closer to him – making it that much more impossible to get away. His free hand worked clumsily at your top; drawing it up and over your head. You fought against it at first, but froze the first time you felt something stretch a little too far, heard fabric tear. This couldn’t happen, but you absolutely couldn’t be stranded in Yuuji’s apartment with no clothes and no way out.

With his face buried in the back of your shoulder, he cupped your chest, catching your nipples between his forefinger and thumb and pinching with just enough force to draw a low, strained whimper from the back of your throat. “So cute…” He nuzzled deeper into your neck as his touch drifted. Your skirt was drawn downward – a long piece, something you’d thrown on without much thought – then discarded completely, his own shirt wrestled off in the same motion. You felt his fingertips slip under the hem of your panties, but he pulled away and straightened his back, instead. For a second, you let yourself believe that he’d come to his senses, that whatever sick idea he’d gotten into his head had finally worn off, but the arm wrapped around your waist only drew tighter, hauling you off of the floor and into his arms. You were dropped unceremoniously onto the edge of his bed, and Yuuji sunk onto his knees between your open legs.

“I know you’ve probably slept with other people – aside from my brother, I mean. It’d be nice to find out you haven’t, though.” His tone was distant and dreamy. He was still drunk, but not drunk enough for how he’d been acting earlier. Not drunk enough for what he was doing now. He traced the pad of his thumb over your clothed slit, keeping a hand curled around your ankle to keep you in place. “I used to hear you with Sukuna – in his car, and his room, on the couch after you two thought I’d fallen asleep …” He trailed off into an airy laugh. “He likes to show off – always has. If he wasn’t my brother, I think I’d kill him.”

He sighed, pressing a lingering kiss into the inside of your thigh before shifting his attention to your pussy; his tongue laving over the thin material covering your cunt. You were crying, now, openly and audibly – your choked sobs almost loud enough to block out Yuuji’s quiet groans and pleased grunts. However his obsession might’ve made him think he felt about you, your distress didn’t seem to affect his appetite. Your panties were pulled down your legs and slid into some unseen pocket. With the last barrier between you and him gone, he was free to trace his tongue over your slit, to latch onto your clit and suck in a way that made you want to bury your face in your hands and scream. You tried to – crossing your arms over your face, but any sound you tried to make was quickly strangled into a broken moans as his tongue fucked shallowly into your pussy. It was invasive, disgusting, but your body didn’t care. You felt cunt clench around him as his nose ground into your clit, his need for air irrelevant while he spread you open with his tongue. Your thighs clenched shut, attempting to block him out, but his only response was a reverberating groan – and hand on your thigh encouraging you to squeeze him that much tighter.

You couldn’t tell which you hated more; the unwanted stimulation or the fact that your body was reacting to it, heating up where you needed it to go cold. As he sunk further into you, ate you out like a beast starved, you clenched your eyes and willed yourself to go numb, to ignore the sloppy sound of your slick on Yuuji’s lips. It was useless, though, as futile as trying to ignore him in the first place. Your back arched off the bed, legs twitching where they hung limply over his shoulders, and—

—and Yuuji pulled away with a sharp gasp. He was on top of you before you could process that he was moving, his mouth crashing into yours before you could think to avoid him. The kiss was brutal, rushed; all teeth and tongue and lips shoved against yours with enough force to bruise. The only hint of tenderness was the soft, satisfied noise he let out as his tongue raked across yours, the bright grin painted across his lips when he drew back from you. “It’s alright.” He brought a hand to your cheek, cupping your face and brushing away tears with his thumb. “I’ve slept with other people too, ‘cause I knew I’d need a little practice to catch up with you. Could never go all the way, though. I just thought about you, and…” He blushed, simpered, like he thought he could pass himself off as the shy, lip-biting schoolboy with your slick coating his chin. “I guess I just didn’t really want anyone else to touch me. Not when I knew I’d see you again.”

A horrified sob bubbled up from somewhere deep and primal in your chest. Yuuji didn’t seem to hear it, only sighing as he pressed a lingering kiss into your forehead. “You don’t have to do anything,” he muttered, his hands falling to your waist. “I want to take care of you, tonight.”

You watched in stunned, paralyzed horror as he pushed himself to his feet, as he hastily worked off his jeans, his boxers (the dark material already notably stained with proof of his arousal). You made one more feeble attempt to squirm out from underneath him, to get away before his attention turned back to you, but confused and betrayed and so, so exhausted, you didn’t stand much of a chance against Yuuji. All he had to do was glance your way, his expression as warm as it was soulless, to leave you helpless against him.

He was eager enough not to reposition you, not to draw this out with the pretense of romance. With one hand on your hip and the other planted near your head, he lined the head of his cock up with your entrance and forced himself into you, bottoming out in a single thrust.

It was agony – pure and unrelenting. Any semblance of gentleness, of restraint fell away as soon as Yuuji was inside of you, as soon as your hyper-sensitive cunt clamped down around his cock. He cursed under his breath before collapsing, his chest pressing into yours as he tried to bury himself that much deeper inside of you, to chase the feeling of your pussy milking him for all he was worth. As hard as you tried not to think about Sukuna, Yuuji hadn’t been lying when he said they were alike. He was just as insatiable as his brother had been any time you let him but his hands on you; just as rough in the way his hips ground into yours between sporadic thrusts. There’d been bruises, the next day. At least Sukuna had been the type to make sure he was gone by the time the damage set in. You doubted Yuuji would be so kind.

“I—I’m sorry,” he managed as he buckled into you. Panting against the dip of your shoulder, he took your hips in his hands and dragged your ass of the mattress, his brutal pace stuttering as he found a new angle to abuse. “Next time—I’ll be gentle next time, I just need to—”

His cock hit something soft and sensitive inside of you. Reflexively, your hands shot to his back, your nails finding skin and tearing. The moan Yuuji let out in response was nothing short of sinful; hitched and guttural, ragged and loud enough to block out the wet, slick sound of his cock pumping into your cunt. “M—” His hand wraps around your thigh, catching you under the knee and dragging it towards your chest, letting him fuck into you that much deeper, that much faster. His face never left the crook of your neck, as if he was afraid to give you space to breathe. “Mommy, ‘m sorry, I need to—”

His teeth sunk into your throat as something hot and thick flooded into your cunt, as your body went stiff and your vision burned white. While his climax was sudden, intense, the peak to a decade’s worth of patience, yours had to be dragged out of you despite your attempts to hold it back, to deny yourself pleasure in the vain hope that it’d somehow be able to convince Yuuji to stop what he’d already finished. It seemed to hold you there in that state of dark, distorted euphoria for minutes – Yuuji’s movements turning slow and languid as he nursed you through your orgasm.

Eventually, mercifully, he went still, going limp above you with his canines still planted in the curve of your neck. If there was any pain, any other unwanted burdens he could force onto you, you were too lost in your own despair to notice, too distant to feel anything other than the mildest tinge of dread as he pulled back, raising his head just far enough to stare down at you, adoration heavy in his eyes and his grin wide and love-struck.

A small, naïve part of you found the sight suffocatingly familiar, while the rest could almost convince itself that you were looking at a stranger.

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mellowwillowy · 4 months

Text

"Stop the wedding!!"

So you get to see NRC food fighting RSA in the end lol Yan! NRC vs Yan! RSA x GN Isekai'd Player (Self-aware)

All the people inside the cafeteria turned their attention to you, an isekai'd player.

"(Name)!!" Idia beamed in tears, finally someone saving him! ... wait, someone? Oh no no no no! You are not just 'someone'!! Why did he even bother troubling you to this extent? He should have just kissed the bride!!!

"Make it right in time, you got me, Ace?" "Thank you for kicking me like a barrel toward the ghosts, pal," Ace replied dejectedly but posed no annoyance at all.

"Potato, since when do you have the funds to get yourself such a nice suit?" Vil questioned as he inspected your overall. The makeup and hairdo were not done to the utmost perfection but he can let it slide because anything on you equals absolute beauty.

"Oh, this? So you are smart enough to realize Crowley won't cover MY suit! I mean, he was trying teeth and nails to not let me join Ace and Co!"

"At least he does something right for the first time," Leona added. "White suits you though I thought you'd surely go with Black as usual?" Trey cocked his head to the side questioningly.

"Look, this is what Neige lent me. And all his attires are almost pristine white! I'm telling ya'!" At that statement, you saw Vil twitch despite not being able to move, he must have been very pissed at the mention of Neige's name alone.

"Originally I planned on taking Cheny'a's but I realized how eccentric his taste is so I decided to go with Neige. The RSA students are kind enough to assist Neige in tailoring it to my size too! Got them right in time before Crowley could shoo me!"

"Dude, even the RSA knows how to respect them, I don't know if I should be angry or nah but it certainly leaves a bad aftertaste seeing them wearing what RSA makes for them." Cater whispers something to the person next to him, inaudible to your ears.

"What do you say if we steal the suit and then burn it down in front of them after we are done here? I'd like to give them a nice thank you hug too while we are at it." "And we should leave them some of my... flowers collection too. This alone should be enough to show our gratitude right?"

"I'd say we should try giving them a proper form of token of gratitude too, how about Master Lilia's cooking?" Sebek added with a grin, he had his fair share of Lilia's cooking to the point he'd like to share it with the others.

"Oh? Then I'd have to make sure to add extra 'love' into it." He replied, this time intending to poison people so its horrifying taste was multiplied at natural without him realizing it.

"Wait, why would we even bother giving them a handmade cooki-" Jack was immediately silenced by Cater's eerie smile. He had his fair share and he knew they meant nothing well from it at all.

"Hey Ace, do something! Stop throwing all your work on prefect!" Deuce yelled by the sideline, ready to chew his ears off.

"I agree, you shouldn't let someone magic-less handle this handful situation alone, get a hold of yourself right now will you, Ace?" Azul scowled and started to usher Ace into work.

"Dude! Now all of you are cornering me?" "You haven't finished, Ace?!"

And Riddle's voice was all it took to make Ace cowered like a puppy. Rook shook his head in disappointment, this had taken way longer than the original gameplay.

"Hurry! We should wrap things up as though we are changing a dirty tablecloth into a new one!" Epel yelled out rather... unique lines. Was he trying to be as poetic as Rook? If anything, both Rook and Vil said nothing regarding this.

"Riiiiighhhhtttt, I'm kinda checked out now, to be honest." Idia's eyes immediately widened, not you too?!

Just before the other could chant another "Smooch the bride", you immediately lunged toward the bride. All those gym class training paid off! Basically, this and that until the ghost inflated.

And instead of Rook ordering you and Epel around, you took the steering wheel before anyone could. "Move yer' ass you glorified wood logs! Move move move!"

The lucky person is the person who gets to feel you dragging them. Absolute win!

"Urgh, I'm so gonna have phasmophobia now." Idia rolled his eyes as the ghosts departed but to be honest? He was happy to see you barging into the cafeteria like a knight in shining armor for him! (It was mostly the others fighting lol)

Idia was taken by surprise the moment your hand smacked his back. "Would you look at it, the star of the show, a handsome groom adorned in black! You look positively breathtaking, senior Idia."

"Eep-! Oh no, they have graced me with their words that are enough to deafen me! What should I do? How should I show them just how grateful I am to be even considered by them???"

"What did you say? I couldn't hear you really well." "Well, brother said that-" "N-n-no! Nothing! I uh... am thankful... for your assistance." He answered bashfully, his hair tip turned into a shade of pink.

"Now now potato, it's time to change, wearing that must have been uncomfortable right?" Vil immediately pulled you away from the pink introvert. "No...? Neige said that it's meant to be comfortable and it's true!" "Well, we have something even wayyyy more comfortable for you, shrimpy! Come on now, let's take it off and dress you up in something else!"

Lilia was leading everyone with a basket of something, a speaker in one hand and Neige's suit in the other hand, "Hey you RSA whippersnappers! Get down!"

The head mage was coincidentally away that day and it allowed the NRC students to lead a protest in front of the academy's gate.

Lilia threw the white suit onto the ground while Leona whistled, signaling Rook to shoot an arrow of fire toward it like an Olympic grand opening. (What a duo.)

"Yeah! Eat this you good for nothing!" Cater and Ruggie immediately took out the pie from Lilia's basket and threw it right onto the students' face. Kalim was generous enough to sponsor lots of baking materials for Lilia with Jamil assisting with the baking. It was badly burnt but still hard as a rock.

Cheny'a was careful enough to avoid Trey and Riddle while Vil was feeling rather generous in feeding Neige~ Oh, and Malleus is always bullseye in his shots, hitting everyone down in no time. He was pretty pissed (sulking) that he was not invited to join your fun. Silver was not being merciful too, he didn't fall asleep at all during this whole thing!.

Rollo was feeling rather grateful but also sad that you did not come to him to ask for his help :( And Crowley just watched everything from the sidelines while praying that nothing bad will be sent to him after this. Well, he's happy with how bright his students are.

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incognit0slut · 26 days

Note

COWBOY SPENCE! COWBOY SPENCE! WE WANT COWBOY SPENCE!

Fluff. Kind of a continuation to this but not really. 1.3k. Also thank you anon for bringing back my cowboy spence agenda.

Spencer gives you a ride on his horse to watch the sunset.

"You're not supposed to be here," he said the moment he saw you enter the stable. And he was right, visiting his ranch on a random Tuesday evening was the last thing you should be doing.

Emily had sent you to interview someone tied to the case, and you managed to gather more information about the Unsub, which you shared with her over the phone. But on your way back to the police station, you realized Spencer's ranch was just a half-hour drive away from town. So you turned the steering wheel, hoping your boss wouldn't notice your impulsive detour.

"Well, you're supposed to reply to my text," you shot back, the sound of your boots echoing on the ground.

He offered a sheepish smile. "Sorry about that, I got caught up today, haven’t had the chance to check my phone."

"I guess some things never change," you remarked as you approached him standing inside the horse arena, hopping up onto the fence. "Give me a kiss."

Spencer chuckled softly, gently patting Mildred's mane as he stepped around her, the beautiful white horse who seemed to acknowledge your presence with a subtle bow of her head. As he reached your side, he leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to your lips, his touch sending a rush of warmth through you.

This was exactly why you had wanted to see him. The absence of his presence had left a void you hadn't realized until now and you groaned when he gently pulled away. His touch lingered as he brushed a stray strand of hair away from your face, his concern evident in his voice.

"Aren't you going to get into trouble?"

"Maybe," you admitted with a playful shrug. "But some things are worth the risk, don't you think?"

"Emily wouldn't be too happy about that," he pointed out.

"She can do just fine without me for an hour or two," you countered before your attention shifted towards Mildred. "Hey, Millie!"

He laughed. "Millie? You've only met her once and you already have a nickname for her?"

You flashed him a grin. "Well, she just looks like a Millie to me," you said, reaching out to stroke Mildred's soft mane. The horse nuzzled against your hand affectionately, and you couldn't help but laugh.

"I think she likes her new name," he remarked. "Wanna take her out on a ride?"

Your eyes widened at the suggestion. "And break my back? I don't even know how to ride a horse."

"Come on, I'll ride with you," he insisted, leading Mildred towards the arena gate. With a quick hop, you jumped off the fence and caught up with him just as he stepped out of the gate, his horse following behind.

You hesitated for a moment, uncertainty flickering in your eyes as you looked up at him from beneath the brim of his cowboy hat. "I don't think this is a good idea."

He met your gaze with a reassuring smile, his arm outstretched towards you. "You'll be fine, you trust me, right?"

His confidence was infectious, and despite your doubt, you found yourself nodding.

"Alright, let's do this," you said, placing your hand in his as he helped you onto Mildred's back. "Don't let go of me!"

"I won't," he said with a chuckle, and your foot stepped onto the stirrup as he steadied Mildred. With a deep breath, you swung your other leg over, settling onto the saddle.

"You ready?" he asked, his voice filled with excitement. But before you could answer, he smoothly mounted himself up and settled behind you, his presence comforting as Mildred began to move beneath you both.

"Holy shit," you couldn't help but mutter, feeling extremely conscious of sitting so high up on a horse. "This feels weird."

He moved his arms securely around you as he held onto the reins. "You're doing great," he said soothingly, his voice close to your ear. "Just take it easy, you'll get used to it in no time."

His words filled you with warmth, and you couldn't help but lean back against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your touch. His arms around you gave a sense of security as Mildred carried you forward, and that was when you saw it, the vast expanse of his ranch unfolding before you.

The rolling hills, the sprawling fields, and the distant mountains dotted with trees and bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun painted a picturesque scene that took your breath away.

"Spencer Reid," you mused, your eyes tracing the landscape, watching a group of cattle running around at the side of the field. "You're rich rich."

He chuckled softly, his chest vibrating against your back. "I prefer to think of it as being fortunate."

"No wonder you don't want to work with us anymore."

"Honestly, there’s a part of me that doesn't want to leave all this behind," he admitted, his gaze fixed on the horizon. "But it's not just about the ranch. Being here reminds me of the simpler things in life, the BAU can be... overwhelming at times."

You understood his sentiment, "I get that," you said softly. “I'm just glad you seem happier now."

A soft smile tugged at the corners of Spencer's lips as one of his arms circled your waist. "Thank you," he murmured. "I'm actually happier with you here."

Your giggle danced through the air and his smile widened at the sound. With a gentle squeeze around your waist, he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "Look at the view."

You followed his gaze, looking out in front of you just as he urged Mildred to stop. As the horse came to a halt, you found yourself gazing out at the breathtaking scenery spread out before you.

The sun was beginning to set, casting a warm golden glow over the landscape, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. The rolling hills and sprawling fields seemed to stretch on endlessly, while in the distance, the mountains stood tall against the horizon.

"It's beautiful," you whispered, the awe evident in your voice as you took in the stunning view.

Spencer's arm tightened around your waist as he leaned in. "Very beautiful.”

Your smile widened as you fished your phone out of your pocket to capture the moment, but as you faced the camera towards the scenery, the screen showed the front camera instead. You both burst out laughing, but then you took the opportunity to lean back against him and angle the camera right in front of you.

Spencer smiled as you cupped his cheek with your free hand, his stubble rough against your palm, before you snapped the moment. You then examined the result, admiring the way he was leaning close to you, his bright hazel eyes sparkling with warmth, with the soft lines of his smile at the corners of his eyes.

“I’m changing this into my wallpaper now.”

His grin widened as you showed him the picture.

"I like the sound of that," he said, his eyes lingering on the image with fondness. Just then, there was a sudden notification on your screen and you exchanged a quick glance with him before opening the message.

Boss Woman: You better not be visiting Reid

Boss Woman: Oh who am I kidding? Of course you are. Say hi to him for me

Boss Woman: But get your ass back to the station right now

His laughter echoed behind you. "It’s like she has a sixth sense."

"I haven’t even told her about us yet," you replied, shaking your head in amusement. "Let's head back before she sends out a search party."

With a nudge from him, he turned Mildred around and guided her on the way back to the ranch. And as the sun dipped lower in the sky, painting the landscape in a warm golden light, you knew that this was worth the trouble. You felt the gentle sway of the horse and you couldn't help but smile, placing a hand on the arm circling your waist.

You were definitely going to visit him again.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfic #cowboy spence

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cevansbrat0007 · 9 months

Text

Off the Market

Summary: Ari learns that you're not the sharing type. Which is fine by him, because neither is he.

Warnings: Mature Themes, Ari Being A Menace, Jealous/Possessive Reader, Oral Sex (mentioned), Discussions of Public Sex, Mentions of Disordered Eating, Polite Fat Shaming, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: This story is part of my Sweet Renegades Series. Be sure to check out the follow-up fic, A Man Starved. Not beta'd. Not beta'd. All mistakes my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

“So?” You ask before taking another sip of your milkshake. The thick and creamy treat goes down easy, which makes the amount of time it took to get to you well worth it. “What’s the verdict?”

“Not bad.” Your companion mumbles as he eagerly gulps down his own shake. “Not bad at all. But just so we’re clear, drinkin’ one of these isn’t gonna get you out of our deal.” He stirs the drink with his straw before plucking out the cherry and popping it in his mouth. “Remember you swore on it.” He holds up his pinky finger as a reminder.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, sugar.” You tell him as a smile flits its way across your lips. Without thinking, you go to feed him your own cherry. You find yourself giggling at the way he playfully nips at your fingers, his tongue lapping at the traces of whipped cream.

There went your big Beast of a man proudly living up to his nickname, as per usual. Thank goodness you were the only couple dining outside today.

“Hey. How come yours tastes better?” Ari pouts suddenly, sending you into another fit of giggles.

“We got the exact same thing, honey.” You roll your eyes at him before returning your attention to the menu in your hand.

“Bird?” His growl comes out soft and silky. And it immediately has you on high alert. Because you recognized that tone.

It meant you were in trouble.

“Um, yes?” You try ducking your head behind the oversized, laminated piece of paper. Maybe if he couldn’t see you anymore, he’d just let it ride.

“Did you just do what I think you just did?”

“Well, I suppose that depends on what you think I just did.” You sneak another sip of your chocolate shake, doing your best to forget about all the extra unnecessary calories you’re putting into your body right then. After all, you and your man had a deal. And you aimed to see it through.

“I think you just rolled your eyes at me.” Ari rests his elbows on the table, leaning forward on his arms in an attempt to get your attention. “Now, just because I gave you a pass back the boutique–”

You blow out an annoyed breath. “That wasn’t my fault! You kept making me model the most ridiculous pieces for you, even when I knew they wouldn’t fit.” You peek out from behind your menu long enough to scan the area for Stella, your waitress. Of course she’s nowhere to be found.

Which, oddly enough, was fine by you. There was just something about the woman that seemed to ruffle your feathers a bit. Although you couldn’t quite put your finger on the reason why.

“Except they did fit.” Your bounty hunter surprises you by yanking the menu from your grasp. He then tosses both yours and his onto a nearby empty table. “And maybe if you would’ve allowed me into the fitting room with you earlier, we could’ve scored you another bathing suit. I still think we should go back for that sweet little black and white number. That ass was made for it.”

“It was too small. Just like the other ones.” You counter, feeling your cheeks heat at the intimate praise. The burn only intensifies when you recall the way he’d simply let himself into the fitting room after you’d vetoed your third bathing suit. It had been his pick, which meant he felt that he was well within his rights to, as he put it, “see for himself”.

One Hour Earlier

“Baby.” He said, chuckling softly. “If a woman expects a man to wait outside and do it patiently, then perhaps she ought to give him a little show.” When you balked he’d simply shrugged and picked up an ice blue monokini before handing it over to you, silently demanding that you try it on. With him right there in the flippin’ fitting room.

And he hadn’t felt the least bit compelled to help preserve your modesty by looking away as you’d changed. Instead, he’d had the gall to take a seat in a chair that was tucked away in a corner.

“This is completely inappropriate!” You hissed, clutching the forgotten suit to your chest. “Wh–what if someone comes by?”

“Then I expect you’ll have to be quiet then, won’t you?” He held a finger to his lips, playfully shushing you. “That way it stays our little secret. Now, how about you model the pink one for me?”

“I’ll model whatever you want once we get back to your place.” You tried, your entire body had been practically vibrating with embarrassment.

“Nah. I’m afraid that ain’t gonna work for me.” Ari had leaned back in his chair then, leisurely crossing his long legs over his ankles. “See, this Beast of yours is itchin’ for some instant gratification.” He’d locked his fingers together before resting them on his firm stomach. “And I ain’t leavin’ until I get it.”

“Guess we’ll be in here for a long time then, huh?” You’d responded rather snippily. “Because I’m not about to–”

“You know, sweetheart, now that I’m thinking about it, I just realized you haven’t fed me yet today.”

“I thought we were gonna grab a bite after..?” The knowing look that passed between you two had been enough to make you feel weak in the knees. “Umm...”

“You know how I get when you make me go too long without a taste.” His piercing blue eyes had dropped to your (thankfully) still panty clad pussy. “I’m gonna need a fix, baby. And soon.” You’d watched him cup his impressive cock through the fabric of his jeans. “Otherwise I might start gettin’ antsy.” The silky purr of his voice alone had been enough to have your thighs clenching.

“Don’t – ooh! Behave yourself, damn you!” You’d done your best to ignore the way your core had spasmed with need. “There will be no funny business in this fitting room. You are not getting us kicked out of this store, Beast!”

“But I’m hungry now. Starving actually.” He’d pressed, a wolfish grin spreading across his features. “And all I can think about is sinking to my knees and burying my face in that gorgeous pussy. Right here. Right now.”

You'd watched as he rose from his seat, his big body crowding your smaller one. “Wanna taste all that sweet, wild honey of yours when you cum on my tongue like a good girl.” You’d also squealed none-too-quietly when he pinned you against the wall.

And although the man had seen fit to warn you of his plan, you still hadn’t been prepared for his boldness. Even less so when he dropped to his knees in front of you, his nimble fingers tugging at the edges of your panties.

“Ari…” You'd breathed, rising on your toes to graze your lips along his bearded jaw. “We can’t. Not here. Patience, sugar.”

“Like I told you, I’m about out.” He’d responded on the heels of a groan. “But I might be able to find some more. Maybe. But only if…”

“If what?”

“If you stay the night once we get back to Bell’s Creek. I wanna spend the rest of the evening getting all tangled up in you. Especially after I managed to work up such a sweet tooth.” Ari had brushed mouth over your covered mound, loving the way your nipples pebbled at his words - his touch.

“I accept your terms.” You’d told him with a soft giggle as heat suffused your cheeks. “Now let me go so I can model these last few for you. It’s about time we get a move-on to our next stop -- no more kisses. Oh God, Ari! Be patient!”

“I’m not trying on another thing after I stuff my face, honey.” You mumble as you take another sip of your drink. “We’ll just have to come back another time. Plus, you’ve already spent more than enough on me.”

“You’re worth it.”

“You should’ve at least let me pay for half.” You start to protest, feeling uncomfortable with being doted on in such a way.

“Already said no. And you ain’t payin’ for lunch either, so you’d best not get that pretty mouth all twisted up to ask.”

“How about we–” You find your conversation interrupted by the arrival of your waitress, Stella.

“Hey, ya’ll!” She chirps as she comes around the corner, her blonde ponytail bouncing behind her as she finally makes her way to your table. “Sorry it took me so long to get back to you. How are those shakes treating you, hm? Pretty good?”

“They’re great.” You and Ari respond at the same time.

“I just knew you’d love ‘em!” She responds rather animatedly, her freshly manicured fingers lightly brushing over Ari’s shoulder. He doesn’t seem to notice. But you do. Because it’s not the first time it’s happened. “Looks like you’re doin’ alright over there, handsome. Can I get you another one?”

“No, thank you.” Your Bounty Hunter hums, his gaze locked on the menu as he works to make a final decision. “But I do think we’re ready to order.”

“Yep.” You readily agree, even as your eye twitches. “We sure are.”

Stella makes an innocent show of turning away from you, her gaze focused on Ari. “I bet a big, strapping fella like you would be interested in one of our steaks. Our beef is grass-fed and sourced locally. Which means it’s always fresh, never frozen.”

“Actually, I think we’re both gonna have–” You attempt to interject, only to be shut down without so much as a glance in your direction.

“Did you happen to see our line of Skinny Gal Salads, buttercup? They come with all the flavor, but only half the calories. They’re listed on page two if you wanna take a gander while I walk your lovely friend here through tonight’s specials featuring our signature porterhouse.”

Your waitress’ audacity hits you so hard you almost feel a headache coming on as an unexpected fury burns in your belly. A belly that could probably stand to benefit from one of those so-called Skinny Gal salads, but then again that would go against the deal you’d made last night.

Which involved you and your man enjoying a couple of worry-free milkshakes and bacon cheeseburgers. You’d promised that you would try to relax and not get so caught up in all of that internal calorie counting like you usually did.

So, like it or not, a deal was a deal and you aimed to see it through. Regardless of what your waitress had to say about it. And if the woman was smart, she’d take her hand off your man’s arm before something happened to it.

“Now handsome, did I hear you say you were visiting from Bell’s Creek?” Your waitress cocks her hip against the table while she ignores you in favor of cozying up to your Beast. “Because it just so happens that I have a friend there that I like to visit from time to time. Do you happen to know–”

“Actually, I’ve heard amazing things about your barnyard cheeseburgers. So I think we’re gonna have two of those with bacon. Extra bacon. Please.” You tack on the last word, which is spoken through gritted teeth.

Finally, Stella turns to you and offers a patronizing smile. “Can I interest you in a side salad with that, buttercup? It comes with a spritz of our homemade red wine vinaigrette.”

Ari sits back in silence, apparently content to watch whatever the fuck was transpiring between you and this bottle blonde heifer with a notepad. Which was fine. You were a big girl who knew how to take-up for herself when the situation called for it.

“I want fries, sugarplum. But who knows, my friend might want one of those skinny ass salads to go with his meal. Does that sound good to you, baby?” While your eyes never leave hers, you manage to catch a glimpse of a smile from your companion.

“I, uh, would also like fries.” He coughs. You can tell he’s trying not to laugh, which only serves to piss you off even more. “But thank you.”

“That’ll be all, honey.” You politely growl, snatching Ari’s menu from him before your waitress could use it as an excuse to touch him again. “We’ll let you know if you need anything else.”

“But you haven’t heard the specials.” Stella turns back to Ari, a soft pout gracing her plump lips. “It just might change your mind. You might find yourself wanting something…better.”

Oh, no the fuck she did not. Your man was fine with his choice. You. The burger. All of it. Be gone, bitch!

“We’re good.” You snap, seething inwardly. “You couldn’t possibly have anything more special than what he’s already got goin’ on in front of him, right here. Right now.”

Your waitress stares you down, but you refuse to be the one to blink first. If your eyes gave up and fell out, you had faith Ari would collect them for you before safely guiding you home. Your man was a gentleman like that.

“I guess I’ll go ahead and get these orders in. Two burgers, heavy bacon, coming right up.” The smile she gives you now is much more brittle and it doesn’t meet her eyes. But you also can’t bring yourself to give a fuck.

This woman needed to remember to stay in her lane before you ran her off the road.

“Thanks.”

“Welcome.”

And then she’s gone. You find your glaring at her retreating form. You’re actually in the middle of fantasizing about what would happen if you took a pair of scissors to her annoying ass ponytail when you hear your name being called.

“What?” You snarl as Ari comes back into focus. And what the hell was he grinning about? Didn’t he realize that that pretty face of his was in slapping distance?

“You’re really something, baby.” He murmurs, his gorgeous blue eyes dancing with mischief. “You know that?”

“Meaning?” At the moment, you were in no mood for anyone else’s bullshit.

Ari leans forward in his chair as one of his big hands comes to rest atop yours. “I just meant…I’ve never seen you jealous before. It just surprised me a little is all.” He finishes with a shrug. “I didn’t expect for you to…to…”

“Didn’t expect for me to do what, Beast?” Your tone softens as you watch his head dip, his bearded cheeks tinged with red. He perks up when you give his hand an affectionate squeeze, flipping your positions slightly so you can lace your fingers through his.

“Claim me.”

Those two simple words are enough to send you reeling. Is that really what you had just done?

“It’s no secret that I like you, Bird. A lot.” His voice drops an octave as he works to explain himself. “Every time I see you, it’s like there’s something in me deep down inside me that screams mine. I guess I wasn’t sure if you felt the same way about me. Until now.”

Was he being serious? Of course he was! This man had never struck you as the type to joke about any of this.

“I like you too, Ari. But what I didn’t like was watching our waitress flirt with you like I wasn’t even here. I almost fucked her up with my spoon for touching what’s mine.” Ari’s perfect teeth sink into his plush bottom lip, his nostril’s flaring as his mind works to process your admission.

“Say that again.” The command rumbles out from somewhere deep in his chest, compelling you to obey. “Louder”

“You’re mine, Ari Levinson. For today. Tomorrow. For however long this magical thing between us lasts – you belong to me.” You breathe, butterflies filling your belly. “You’re officially off the market, you got that?”

“I hear you, Bird. Loud and fucking clear.” The grin on his face soon proves to be infectious. “And you have no idea just how happy I am to hear you say that.” Ari opens his arms to you then, beckoning you forward.

The next thing you know, you’re up and moving before you’ve even registered what’s happening. All you knew was that your man needed you. Which meant you needed to go to him. Now.

“I always want you, Ari. Even when I shouldn’t.” You tell him as you gracefully slide into his lap, looping your arms around his neck as you do.

“I know the feeling.” Ari murmurs, brushing his mouth over yours. “Which is why I want to do something special once we get back to Bell’s Creek. Before I have to leave again.” The startled look on your face has your Bounty Hunter rushing to finish his thoughts before you can verbalize your confusion.

“What do you–?”

“I’m only gonna be gone a few days, baby. Three, maybe four, tops.” One of his large, slightly calloused palms presses against the back of your neck, drawing you in closer to him so that he can take your lips again.

“Oh.” Comes your lame reply.

“I’m coming back to you, Bird.” Ari rests his forehead against yours as you try to calm your racing heart. “You have my word. But I still wanna do something special for you – for us – before I go. Will you let me do that without a fight?”

“Okay.”

“Okay.” Feeling content, Ari leans in to capture your mouth with his own once again. After behaving himself all day, it was time for his reward.

“Wait.” You place your hand on his chest, halting his advances. “You’re still mine wherever you go. I don’t care if it’s fucking Siberia.” You grab a fistful of his shirt, hauling him forward. “You’ll still be mine there too. You with me?”

“Fuck yeah I am.” Ari growls, using both of hands to cradle your face as he slants his lips over yours once again. The kiss is as passionate as it is raw. Your tongues dance together, both fighting for dominance. But this time your Beast lets you win.

Desire burns in your belly as you savor the sensual victory. You bury your fingers in his hair, tugging at the chestnut strands. Meanwhile, one of Ari’s hands goes to grip your hip, making you moan when he gently molds and kneads your curves.

Jesus Christ! You suddenly felt as if you were wearing too many clothes.

His lips skim along the column of your throat as you pant. You were always so fucking needy for him all the time. It made it almost impossible for you to resist him during moments like these.

You’re so lost in each other that you don’t even bother to look up when you hear footsteps approaching. “Will these be separate checks or…oh.” You hear your waitress stammer as she tries to collect herself. “I’ll, um - I'll just bring the one.”

Ari briefly pulls away, eliciting a soft whine from you. “Thanks. And while you're at it, we’ll be taking our food to-go.”

“Bye, Stella.” You giggle as you give a little wave before playfully nipping at his jaw, not even bothering to glance over at the other woman’s face. You knew it was petty, but staking your claim on this man in front of your so-called rival felt so damn good. Especially after a day like today.

Frankly, the only way it could get any better was if you could make yourself utter those three magic words – the same ones you’d been practicing in the mirror last night. But right now they simply wouldn't come. They kept getting stuck in your throat.

Oh well. Guess you’d just have to try again tomorrow.

END

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scoutswritingcorner · 25 days

Text

Chauffeur

The Vee’s x GN!Reader

A/n: I caved. I’m caving into the Vee’s. Y’all got me by the fucking scruff like a cat and are dragging me deeper into the depths of hell. Also I have updated my rules so go check that out if you want.

TW: Valentino. He is his own trigger warning. NSFW Mention cause of Valentino.

The life of being the Vee’s personal chauffeur and secret crush. It’s not a secret they are all horrible at hiding it but you're just focused on your job.

First of all let me say this, these three assholes adore your ass. At first they didn’t care but now? Oh boy, they try everything to get you to do stuff for them. Especially when it involves you driving them around town.

Vox likes it when you are driving one of his personal vehicles with him. He throws you the key, shoots you a wink and lets you drive him around. His favorite is when he sees you in the most comfortable clothes you can have (ei. Pajamas or something) while driving it around. He likes to think you're comfortable around him enough to do so. He also does it when he’s overstimulated from working and the other two so he gets you to drive around for hours while he reboots and calms himself.

Velvette always calls you up to her studio so she can fit you with a new outfit for when you drive her around for her shows or meetings. You better open her door for her or she will get mad, she can’t be breaking a nail now. You also are picking her up with a full tank of gas in the car cause after? She wants you to drive around a little longer, keep her mind off killing someone or something that looks at her wrong. Don’t worry! She’ll send you some more gas money and a little more with the promise to “get you something nice.”

Valentino is also always calling or texting you. He wants you to drive around his limo cause you take good care of it and you’re never asking too many questions if he’s fucking one of his many workers in the back. After dropping him off, he always catches your chin in his fingers and smirks, “Thank you, Mi chofer pequeño~”. If it’s just you and him in the limo or car, he’s holding one of your hands and flirting with you the whole time saying some dirty remark that you just ignore.

Now all three of them together? That’s some sort of trouble to deal with. One of them wants your attention and the other two are fighting or so, please keep the partition window open for their own good. Or don’t, Valentino will press the button himself to call for you when he wants your attention. The longer you ignore them the more he presses the button. They love it when you open the door for them, I mean it’s part of your job but they can’t get enough. Val will purr and make a dirty comment, Vox will smile and wink, Velvette will snap a picture with the caption ‘#bestchauffeur’ and a wink at you before all three disappear into the tower or wherever they went.

598 notes · View notes

moonhoures · 7 months

Text

Relax

🕷️ kinktober — day 3: bath sex 🕸️

pairing: yeosang (ateez) + reader (g/n)

genre: non-idol!au, fluff, smut

warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, established relationship, yeosang has a fractured ankle, reader gives yeosang a handjob in the bath, mentions of a blowjob but no actual blowjob (sorry 😣)

word count: ~2.6k

synopsis: after yeosang gets injured, you have no problem helping him in any way he needs ;)

a/n: i’m such a sucker for fics where one partner is injured and the other takes care of them ;-; so i had fun writing this ^_^

posted: october 3, 2023

kinktober masterlist

“Augh!”

Your boyfriend yelped out in pain, getting your attention all the way from the kitchen where you were loading the dishwasher. You quickly shut the dishwasher door and bolted to the living room to check on him. You huffed in disappointment, getting a sheepish look from your boyfriend in return.

“You’re not supposed to stand up without me to help you,” you chided him, gesturing for him to sit back down on the couch, “What were you trying to do anyways?”

He frowned, plopping back down onto the couch and wincing from the discomfort he felt in his ankle, “I was trying to get the TV remote.”

“You should’ve called me, Yeo, I’m literally in the next room,” you spoke to him with a softer tone now, grabbing the remote from the table on the opposite end of the room to hand it to him. You got a good look at him, noticing the bags under his eyes and the flushed tone in his cheeks. He was so tired and in so much pain. The medicine the doctor had given him for his fractured ankle could only help so much, but Yeosang had been taking it like a champ for the most part. He was just having trouble adjusting to the ‘relying on people’ part of his injury.

“How are you feeling?” you asked him when he didn’t reply to your first comment.

He sighed, slumping further into the cushions, “Just like every other day. Terrible.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” you couldn’t recount how many times you had asked him that question this past week, but Yeosang was growing irritated from hearing it. He appreciated your help, he did, but he couldn’t help but feel so pitiful and useless in this condition. Not being able to move on his own without risking even further injury. He hated relying on you to do his daily tasks.

“No, I don’t want to bother you anymore than I already am,” he admitted, looking past you at the TV.

Now you were the one frowning, taking the empty spot beside him, “You’re not bothering me. I’m happy to help you with whatever you need. If there’s anything I can do to make you feel a little better, then I want to do it.”

He glanced at you with a hint of a smile on his lips, “You’re too nice.”

“I was thinking helpful would be a better word,” you joked, making him chuckle softly. Just then an idea popped into mind, “What about a bath? I could use the new bubble bath I got, and the salts you like.”

Yeosang was usually a shower kind of guy, but being that he wasn’t able to stand for long with his ankle and there was no room for him to sit in the shower, he had been enjoying the tub more. Some nights you let him use the lavender-scented salts you bought, and he seemed to relax more with those. When you would go in to help him out of the tub, he would comment how much nicer your stuff smells than the ‘manly’ stuff he used.

“And if you want a spa experience, I can pull up some jazz music and hot towels.”

Yeosang laughed at that, nodding, “Okay, you’ve convinced me.”

You hopped up off the couch, glee apparent on your face as you did so, “Perfect. You stay right there while I go run the water. Don’t move a muscle!”

Yeosang watched with amusement as you ran off to the bedroom, and shortly after he could hear the faint sound of the bath water running. He didn’t realize, but he was grinning. He was wondering how he got so lucky to have someone in his life that cared about him the way you did. He thought he must’ve been a really great person in his past life, very charitable. He thought you must be his good karma returning to him.

“Okay,” you emerged from the bedroom several minutes later, “It’s ready for you.”

Your boyfriend waited until you got closer before he started to get up. You supported him with one arm, letting him rest some of his weight on you to keep it off of his left leg. He hissed as he took a step and felt the nerves firing in his ankle, making the limb below his calf ache.

“You okay?”

Yeosang nodded, and you helped him take the first step, then the next. A couple minutes later, he let out a sigh of relief as you both finally made it to the bathroom. You fixed him up sitting on the edge of the tub. He took a deep breath, a smile on his face as he took in the sweet smell of lavender and something else. That’s when he noticed the two eucalyptus candles that were lit on the counter across the room.

“Candles? Really?”

“I told you I was giving you the full spa experience,” you spoke nonchalantly, “Let’s get these off of you.”

He let you tug his shirt off of him, ruffling his hair up in the process. He pulled his shorts and boxers down to his knees, and you took them from there, cautious of his ankle while removing them. Then you stood by, body tense while you let him settle in the tub by himself, ready at any moment to help if he needed you. But luckily he didn’t need any help. He hummed in satisfaction, sinking further into the water, rippling the bubbles away from him.

“Is the temp okay?”

He merely nodded and hummed, looking as cozy as a baby in a snug blanket. You broke out into a smile, walking away to get a towel for him.

“Call me if you need anything,” you told him, leaving the towel off to the side where he could reach. His eyes widened, and he sat up a little.

“Wait- I want you to stay here with me.”

“For what?”

“I just- I don’t want to be by myself. Can you just stay here and talk to me?”

How could you say no?

“Of course I can.”

You sat down beside the bathtub, letting your left arm rest along the edge. You rested your chin on your arm, then tilted your head so your cheek was pressed against your skin.

“Have you talked to the guys recently?” you asked him, trying to find a conversation to start.

“Yunho texted me this morning,” he replied, “Said it doesn’t feel the same getting breakfast without me.”

Small, soft smiles widened on both your cheeks and his at the wholesomeness. You knew Yeosang’s injury was hard for him, but it was also hard on you and his friends. Not having the usual, happy Yeosang around was weird, but at least you lived with him. You could still hang out with him, and you slept in the same bed as him at night. His friends didn’t have the same fortune, and these days they were so busy they barely had time to visit him. At this point they were just counting down the days until he was clear to roam around on his own so they could resume as normal. The eight amigos.

“They all miss you, I’m sure,” you said. You let the fingers on your right arm dip into the water. Your fingertips grazed over the surface, twirling the suds, making them dance. You entertained yourself with them as Yeosang talked about taking things for granted before. How he wished he could do his day-to-day stuff like normal again.

“Like what?” you questioned him, “You can do all the same stuff, you just need help to do it. And like I said, that’s what I’m here for.”

“But-“ your boyfriend paused, then decided against what he was going to say. But now you were intrigued.

“What?”

“It’s nothing,” he shook his head, ears turning pink. It seemed like he was a little ashamed or embarrassed of what he was thinking.

“No, tell me. What? Is my help not good enough?” you teased, “Because there’s no way you can say that after I did all this for you.” You gestured to the rest of the room.

He shook his head again, “No, you’ve been a big help. And I’m really thankful. It’s just- I need help with something that doesn’t have to do with my injury.”

The look he gave you was pointed, and at first you didn’t understand what he was implying. But it dawned on you after a moment. Of course, he was a human with needs and desires, and a body. Your eyes glanced down at the bubbles that were starting to dwindle down into suds, leaving empty patches of water on the surface. One patch just so happened to expose his half-erect penis in his lap.

When he first came home from the doctor’s, you were very strict about him taking it easy. You wanted him to recover as soon as possible. Sex was the last thing on your mind, and had been since. Your sole focus was taking care of him and making sure his needs were met, just not in that way. You weren’t even acknowledging your own needs in the process.

“Oh.”

“But it’s okay. I- I’ve been taking care of them, uh, when I get the chance,” his ears were red now, out of pure bashfulness. You found it cute. When he got like this, you loved teasing him, making him even more flustered.

“I’m sorry, my love. You should’ve told me,” you cooed, fingertips gliding across the water until they met his biceps. You grazed them, emerging from the water onto his wet skin. You felt him tense a bit under your touch, and it made your lips twitch.

“I was going to, but I felt bad. You’ve been helping me with so much. I don’t want to ask you for anything else,” he confessed.

“You’re not a burden, Yeo,” you assured him, making eye contact with him as your fingers came to rest on his shoulder. You drew lazy circles over his skin, making goosebumps appear on it, “I want to help you. With whatever you need.”

His eyes were hazy now, as if he was entranced by you. And honestly, he was. He had been thinking about fucking you for weeks now, but was unable to initiate anything in his state because he was nervous about furthering his injury in some way. And you weren’t initiating, so he resorted to suffering in silence. Eventually he got to the point that he couldn’t take it anymore, and he ended up fisting his cock furiously in the bathroom. But all he wanted was you.

He gulped when your hand moved to his chest, smoothing it over his pecs. Your fingertips pausing to squeeze his nipple lightly. He twitched, making you giggle. He was so sensitive. You loved it.

You trailed even further, breaking the water’s surface again to slip over his abs. The subtle terrain of muscles under skin that displayed how diligently he had worked out—well, up until he had fractured his ankle.

Then, you felt it. The sparse hair that grew along his V-line. The feeling of it had you drawing your lip between your teeth, because you knew what would soon follow.

The stretch of skin that led to what you really wanted. The base of his cock, now growing by the second. It was starting to throb in anticipation, turning red along the shaft. The thin veins were standing out. You wanted him in your mouth so bad, but you would have to make-do with your position right now.

You took him in your grasp, giving him the lightest squeeze, and yet he still let out a whimper. It was soft, so soft you almost missed it.

“How’s that, baby?”

“Good,” he squeaked out, “K-keep going. Please.”

The suds were almost non-existent by now, so you could see clearly everything you were doing below the water. You were both enjoying the show, eyes glued between his legs. His lips were parted, breaths coming out in pant-like bursts as you started to slowly drag your hand up and down his length. The friction was a little difficult to work through, but you were determined to make it work. You paused at the end of his dick, swiping your thumb over the slit. Precum floated through the water in little ribbons then disappeared. You couldn’t wait to have his cum do the same, and neither could he.

“Please,” he whined again, eyes closing for a moment. His hands were balling into fists at his side.

“Just relax, my love.”

He nodded, letting the back of his head rest against the edge of the tub. His eyes screwed shut even more as you continued to stroke him, a little faster this time. You saw his legs shift, moving the water in the tub. His body was preparing an orgasm all because of you. His chest moved up and down, and you could see his abs tensing. His fingernails were biting into his palms.

“________, it feels so good,” he whispered, “So much better than my hand.”

You bit back a smile, “I know, baby. Are you close? Can you cum for me?”

“Mhm,” he nodded eagerly, and as if on cue, his thighs tensed up.

You quickened your pace some more, an ache growing in your forearm, but you ignored it.

“What did you think about when you jerked off, Yeo? Me?”

“Yes,” he admitted it without hesitation.

“What about me?”

“Everything. Being inside you. In your mouth.”

“My mouth? You want to fuck my mouth, baby?”

“Yeah,” he moaned, eyes opening to look at you. You looked back at him with eyes full of allure, full of all the things he wanted and more. It drove him crazy, “Fuck, yes.”

“As soon as we get out of this bathroom, my mouth is all yours,” you said, watching his face twist into sexual agony. If it wasn’t for his godforsaken ankle, he would’ve had you bent over the bathroom counter already.

“Please,” he was desperate this time, and his body was getting closer to climaxing. He whined and his thighs thrashed, pushing the now-lukewarm water up along the tub’s edges.

Some of the water had managed to escape and roll down the outside of the bath, dripping down and falling to the floor. But you didn’t care, you ardently pumped his cock, choking up just below his tip. He loved when you did that, and it brought him even closer, until finally your name came out of his mouth in a whine.

His toes curled, and every part of his body clenched as rope upon rope of cum shot out of him and carried on the water over his lap. His cock twitched in your grip as your strokes slowed. Then you removed your hand from him completely, letting him recuperate. He melted into the water, sinking his shoulders below the surface. He sighed after a while of regaining his composure, but the tips of his ears remained a bright pink color.

“Best spa ever,” he breathed out, causing you both to laugh.

“I think if this was a real spa, I would be losing my job,” you joked, leaning in to kiss his cheek.

He turned his head to you, capturing your lips with his and deepening the kiss. He kissed you like he was hungry for you, teeth nipping at the skin of your lips. Your cheek was surprised to feel cool water when his hand reached up to hold it. The same, wet hand slid down from your face to your neck, fingertips digging into your skin the smallest amount. You groaned against his lips before he pulled away.

“Did you mean it? As soon as we leave the bathroom?” he asked, and you didn’t even have to think about it. You knew exactly what he was referring to.

“Yes, I meant it.”

“Then please help me get out of this tub.”

— taglist #1

@jaylaxies @xiaoting999 @kookthief @zaddywilk @wonrangwoo @pedriswrld @ikykleeknowww @odisdad @abby-grace @jungwonloveer @pinklemonadeflav @celestialplatinum @luvkpopp @nlklstan @kisses4denji @jenos-eye-smiles @a-l-i-y-a @channiesprincess @bekah931215 @mrsdacherry @heerinnie @fairygirl18 @cinnikoi @im-ur-calico-cat @unlikelysublimekryptonite

#ateez #ateez smut #yeosang smut #kang yeosang smut #ateez fanfic #ateez hard hours #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez x reader #ateez x y/n #yeosang fanfic #yeosang imagines #yeosang scenarios #yeosang x reader #yeosang x y/n #[🕷️] kinktober 23

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ma1dita · 7 months

Text

kiss his face with an uppercut

smutty part 2 here-> heavy hitter

words: 4k

summary: james potter is so attractive you could beat him to death with a bludger. james potter x fem!beater!reader not from gryffindor (for the plot!!)

warnings: none! james gets physically hurt multiple times by reader, multiple innuendos, enemies to lovers kinda, less serious lovey dove more sexual tension!!! probably not accurate quidditch gameplay

a/n: sorry for the hold up guys this took almost a month of on and off editing lmfao— this whole oneshot makes me think of the filipino word ‘gigil’– simply translating to cuteness aggression; i barely know jack shit about sports much less quidditch but this concept had me looking up quidditch rules to be able to provide– eat up kids

Y/S- sibling name

Y/H- house

(posted & edited 10/10/23)

—

Oh BROTHER, this guy STINKS! I mean, how has he not gotten walloped at least once during this godforsaken game? You suck your teeth at the sight of James flying around the pitch blowing kisses to his fan club and Lily Evans, who turns her nose up at the sight of him.

Merlin, when will this game end?

The Hogwarts Quidditch Semi-Finals of 1977 was a game to watch… until both teams stopped scoring what seemed like hours ago. Both Gryffindor & (Y/H) were at a stalemate, down some players due to injury and now, even lower team morale. Gryffindor team captain and chaser James Potter, notorious Marauder, and resident flirt, is not someone who likes to lose. He’s spent all season drilling his teammates, memorizing plays, and thinking of every outcome possible to ensure another Gryffindor victory. James’ affinity to be right takes precedence over anything, after all. But after beating down almost all of (Y/H)’s reserves, James was almost vibrating with confidence. He really doesn’t lose, not if he can help it.

“AND ANOTHER (Y/H) IS DOWN WITH AN INJURY— Team captain Whithall calls for a timeout as they reconvene on what to do next! Hope you’re still comfy in the stands, folks….” the student announcer grumbles.

There’s absolute chaos on the field, and like birds scuffling over a piece of bread, (Y/S), the team’s last good beater is floating on a gurney, ready to be transported to the Hospital Wing.

“Oh, here comes trouble…” Sirius murmurs, smacking James on the back to grab his attention.

You jump down from the stands to check on (Y/S), and James is too busy reveling in the idea of winning the goddamn semi-finals that he doesn’t notice you putting Quidditch gear on.

“Easy win from here on out, Pads! The little lady’s just checking the damage. Not important,” he chortles before Sirius physically grabs his head to face the girl walking towards him, currently storming across the turf to meet him and his team.

“I’m subbing in,” you say, angry at how dirty Gryffindor’s been playing, and angry that you even have to play in (Y/S)’s stead.

“Sweetheart, this game is for serious, you know that right?” James says a bit dumbly with a furrowed brow. Both of you are head to head, and James sees the twitch in your eye as you cross your arms. Hot air is seeping out of your pores but James’s lip simply quirks up in intrigue. You’re someone he hasn’t noticed before, and the only thing running through his mind besides winning the game is that you’re really pretty. But then again, he’s always found angry women to be attractive, in retrospect.

“Yeah, for the actual cup, not…for Sirius… It’s the wrong time to joke, innit?” Sirius says to break the ice, noticing the palpable tension between your glares. Your faces are inches away from each other and he’s not sure if you two are going to fight or kiss, but it makes him grimace all the same.

“Who do you think (Y/S) practices with? Unlike you and your friends, I know when to take things seriously,” You say through gritted teeth.

“She’s legit, Potter. Got added to our reserves last week.” Whithall pipes up, ready to get back to the game. The crowd has been weathered down after hours of anticipation, and they want to see the end of it, no matter the outcome.

“Much to my surprise,” you grumble, elbowing the authority in the form of a teenage boy not much older than yourself. You should’ve known your sibling was looking a little too happy as they got floated off the pitch on a gurney.

“Then let’s play. Don’t hurt yourself, sweetheart.” James says condescendingly, floating away on his broomstick like it’s a walk in the park, but the way you’re slapping the bat against your palm is getting Sirius a tiny bit nervous for his precious countenance. The whistle blows and the game resumes.

“A SURPRISE ADDITION (Y/N) JOINS HER HOUSE AS BEATER! Gryffindor better watch out for her swi—” You slam the bludger in James’s direction and it hurtles toward him so fast that he almost folds in half, barrel-rolling on his broom to dodge it. The move makes Sirius and a few of their other teammates gasp to see James scrambling back onto his broom.

“Oops! Looks like I missed.” you deadpan, balancing midair as you whack another one where it rebounds off the Gryffindor seeker and back towards James, hitting both of them in the gut.

“THIS GIRL’S GOT AN ARM ON HER! Though might I say her hits look a bit targeted…” The commentator says worriedly, and everyone in the crowd is leaning in their seats trying to get a better view.

“Merlin, are you trying to kill me woman?” he yells in outrage.

“I’m trying to finish the game. Your big head is in the way,” you say with a straight face as Sirius bats towards you, and you spin on your broomstick without shifting your posture. The smile on your face as you taunt him should be considered criminal, but he’s looking at you in a new light.

Yeah, now he’s paying attention. The other Gryffindor players can’t seem to figure out your next move and you bat another bludger towards Potter’s extremely large target of a head, and all of a sudden he’s freefalling through the air as his teammates fly to catch him, one by one. His nose still makes impact with the ground before Sirius catches by the ankle like Achilles taking a dip in the River Styx.

“AND (Y/H) HAS CAPTURED THE SNITCH! Good job to their Seeker, Appleby! Congratulations on a job well done, so that we can all finally go home.” The commentator cringes as McGonagall swats at him to leave the podium.

Who even is she, taking over the game and stealing his win like that?

He’s walking up from the sidelines with a bloody nose, going to shake Whithall’s hand and you’re standing behind him, a malicious grin plastered between your rosy cheeks, windswept and almost ethereal while he looks like he got flattened by a hippogriff. Fuck, she’s pretty. You look like you floated down from the heavens, and by the looks his team gives him, he may have just crawled out of the earth.

“Congrats,” he grumbles, turning to you. Really pretty. It’s even worse that you’re devastatingly stunning up close— with sweat glistening on your brow and a pearly white smile, he takes a good moment to really look at you and memorize the flutter of your eyelashes. He’s unsure if he’s concussed or maybe it’s his astigmatism, but there are actual stars in his vision as he peers down at you. Your confidence is actually kind of sexy.

“You look…um…you ride well.” He stutters, shaking his head from his personal reverie.

“Excuse me?” you say, your little mouth agape in what he hopes is not disgust. He looks pathetic, blood sopping down to his jersey as he looks at you like he’s only seeing you for the first time, acknowledging you closely. Something about seeing him flail makes you crinkle your nose as you stifle a grin.

“I mean…Um…” Damn.

Sirius pulls his best friend away before you can bite back your laughter, all of your teammates leading you away to celebrate.

“Mate, what the shit was that? Are you alright in the head?” Sirius says, and if James’ nose wasn’t already bleeding he was going to slap him silly.

“Just…Didn’t see that coming…” he mumbles, and his mind, along with all of Gryffindor is in disarray as they walk back to their tower. He’s got a lot of thinking to do on what his next move will be.

—

James Potter goes through life in three methodical ways: 1.) creating a strategy, 2.) making a scene, 3.) and dragging his friends into it— in that particular order, every single time.

Now notice how considering consequences is not part of said process.

His ego wouldn’t let him rest after a girl, much less a very pretty one that he’d never noticed before—beat him at what he does best; quidditch! In fact, the next few nights were void of sleep and filled with thoughts of you. The way your hair looked so soft in the sunlight, how your lip turns almost Gryffindor red when you bite it in concentration, and maybe how your delicate hands would look as they tightly grasp onto his bat...ahem…your quidditch bat. Some dirty delusions aside, if looks could kill, he’d be dead seven times over, but honestly? He’d probably thank you for it.

James’ new mission was to figure you out, and if that was his mission, it meant it was the rest of the Marauders’ too. For the sake of winning the Cup, of course. That’s what he tries to tell himself until his mates catch him ogling you again at breakfast.

“So what is it with you and girls that inflict you nothing but pain and humiliation?” Remus muses, as the Marauders watch James laugh at a joke you told your friends at the (Y/H) table across the Great Hall. He looks at you like someone who stares at the sun, squinting and burning himself as he ponders on why he’s unable to look away.

James fumbles a response, shoving Remus as they all laugh. “Listen, I’ve got a bit of a masochistic streak, Moony. Just…There’s something about her…”

Your friends are pointing at him now, and as you turn to meet his eyes, you lift a brow inquisitively and flip him off. Sirius’s face pulls up in shock at James’s growing smile at the interaction as he mumbles, “Maybe you’ve met your match, Prongs…”

The boy pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, anything to try to see you clearer as he leans over to put his head in his hands, sighing dreamily. His friends are not as easily amused.

“A match made in heaven, you reckon?”

—

“Match made in hell, more like!” You spit, almost choking on your scrambled eggs at your friends’ insinuations. Your back is as stiff as a board, shoulders tight at the notion of you ever liking James Potter triggering your fight or flight response. When it comes to someone as pompous as him, only the word fight comes to mind.

“Oh come on, love… He’s popular, funny, and quite handsome…It’s James freaking Potter we’re talking about!” your roommate gushes, but you're not the least bit impressed.

“Is that supposed to do anything for me? I can think of a few F words that middle initial can stand for…” Eyes rolling, you peek back at the Gryffindor table to see said boy wiggling his fingers at you teasingly until he accidentally smacks Peter in the face with his toast. Idiot.

“Only hot people get away with stupid shit. I mean look at the four of them!” you continue, gulping down the rest of your coffee. “Potter’s the worst out of all of them though. Big ass head must compensate for a lot of things." You say, shaking your head at your friends.

"And yet, here you are, talking about him for the fourth time this morning," your roommate replies, smirking. " You’ve been Potter crazy since you helped us beat Gryffindor in the semi-finals! Are you sure you don't have a crush on him?"

"No!" you say too quickly, too loudly, that the shrill noise of your voice makes your ears hurt and the shit-eating grins on your friends’ faces reflect how desperate that came off. You slump onto the table, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“You wanna kiss him, don’t you?” they tease, and you push away their puckering faces as you scoff, “With an uppercut, maybe!” Almost makes you want to stomp over there and wipe the stupid look off his face…and maybe sit on his lap. You run your fingers through your hair in frustration. All this aggression really needs to go somewhere, but unfortunately, James Potter’s lap is the only destination you have in mind.

“He’s just really punchable. I get so annoyed by the sight of him I just want to… ugh!” you groan, your hands shaking as you try to convince them (or yourself). Your friends cackle at the sight of you pretending to squeeze his curly-topped, mothball-filled head, but your brain changes course and you imagine what it’s like to hold his hand. Your fingers flex cautiously at the idea, wondering what his touch would feel like. Grabbing a glass of water to cool your thoughts, your peripherals reveal he’s still staring at you like you make night turn into day. His gaze is searing, and as you put your lips around your straw, he licks his lips slowly. Shit.

—

Availability bias is one hell of a mindfuck. If only they taught psychology at this magic school, maybe the wizarding world would have way fewer problems and more people would be straightforward and not.. Dead. James decides he can categorize his life now as before you, and after you.

Before you, well… he honestly wasn’t even sure if you were a student at Hogwarts until he saw you marching down the pitch, but now… You’re everywhere. He can spot your voice in a crowded hallway, and who was going to tell him you’ve had three classes with him this whole term? Even down to when he shuts his eyes, he’s convinced his eyelids are branded with the imprint of your silhouette. Every conversation he strikes with you ends with you laughing at him, and he’s unsure if that’s a step up or down from the many boisterous rejections from Lily Evans over the years. He sort of wishes you’d laugh with him, and do a number of other things, (heck he’s got a list of ideas he’s wanked off to), and well… His soul is tightly wound with thoughts of you and Godric, listen to this guy…. maybe the boys were right…. Maybe he really does need to get laid.

It’s funny how fate works, two people who’ve barely interacted in the past six years at Hogwarts are now paired together for a History of Magic essay worth 20% of the term grade. You’re trying to get this done as fast as possible, he notices, mapping out ideas and trying to discuss how to piece it all together, yet James does everything but that to get you to pay attention to him. He fills your head with mundane little questions, asking you what your favorite fruit is to the childhood bedtime story your parents told you as a kid.

“What’s your middle name, Potter?” You muse, finally entertaining him after endless chatter. His eyes trail to the exposed skin of your collarbones as you stretch in your seat, and well… you don’t look as menacing as you always do but did it seriously have to be this question? He scratches the back of his head, silent for the first time in the two hours you’ve been trying to craft this essay for the sake of both your grades.

“What? I can’t just go around calling you James Fucking Potter. Spit it out, you know too much about me already.”

He clears his throat, a blush creeping up his neck. “It’s… that’s an intimate question, love… I…”

Your laughter at his response makes his senses shut down. “Oh, so it’s bad. What is it, Franklin? Fabio? Come on, I won’t bite.” A part of him wishes you would, your face equally flushed and so close to him right now, almost leering at him for an answer. It’d be easy to just lean over…

“Fleamont.”

Your lips quirk, until they pucker like you’ve guzzled a lemon. The blush on your cheeks intensifies, and the sound explodes out of you. You laugh so loudly Madam Pince kicks you both out of the library, James carrying both your knapsacks, a hand around your waist as you rush out of there. Your body is firm under his touch, pupils unfocused and dilated looking at him now that you know his dirty little secret. James thinks that if you keep looking at him like that, hell, you can call him anything you want.

—

Fleamont.

What a prick. A really attractive, clueless prick. The memory makes you giggle as you get ready for the Quidditch Cup and your team charges out onto the field to face Gryffindor again, as you’ve both advanced to the finals. He’s not as much of an asshole as you originally thought. It’s undeniable that something pulls you towards him, whether it be hormones, concern, or the fact that it’s actually adorable the way he writes his mother back weekly, or admirable how he moved Sirius out of Black Manor himself last year. Maybe it’s endearing the way he goes out of his way to make first-years smile or heartwarming how even Filch can’t find reasons to hate him. The golden boy. You get it now, why people get trapped in his web, and why many are unwilling to leave.

You pass him outside the locker rooms, bumping shoulders as he smiles almost bashfully. The golden boy, loudmouth, ball of energy is reduced to a nervous pile of teenage ineptness at the sight of you, every time. You could take him (not in a fight). In an actual fight, maybe you could land a few solid hits before his nice muscly arms hold you do—

“Ready to finish this, darling?”

Your eyes refocus when his hand nudges the small of your back, right above your hip. “Mhmm,” you clear your throat, “Ready to lose, Potter?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He moves closer, slowly backing you into the wall.

“Eyes on the prize Potter, I’m in this to win it.” You say, looking at the closing distance between both your chests. James nods, not taking his eyes off of you for a moment, even when the announcer calls out the imminent start of the game.

“WELCOME TO THE HOGWARTS QUIDDITCH CUP OF 1977 GRYFFINDOR VS. (Y/H)! I hope you are all excited as our last match between these teams was quite thrilling at the end of it!” The announcer says, hyping up the roaring crowd as your teams parade onto the pitch.

His eyes are still on you when he shakes Whithall’s hand and the whistle blows. It’s intense, and makes you feel like you’re burning, even if the wind is blowing like crazy today. You bat the bludgers toward anything red on the field that even dares to move toward your teammates. James won’t stop staring at you, and you both lock eyes across the pitch.

“What? Flirt with me later, Potter, I’m trying to win!” you yell.

He’s got you transfixed, and it’s crazy how his timing is always wrong. You bat the bludger away from your captain but don’t notice James flying towards you to respond as you give it your hardest swing, making the impact against his huge target of a head all the more painful.

Holy shit, did you kill him?

He keels off his broom like a shot bird and then he’s falling, and you’re the one chasing the Gryffindor chaser as he flaps his arms like the idiot you know he is as you push forward to catch him before he splits his skull open.

“I’msofuckingsorryJamesareyouokay?” You blurt out as you land, soft hands moving over his broad chest and quickly swelling face. He’s wearing that stupid grin again, and you think you may have finally broken Gryffindor’s team captain.

“You know my name?” he sighs happily, comfortable in your lap and maybe it’s the brain damage you’ve caused him or the way his glasses are bent beyond repair but you will every magical predecessor you can think of to stop you from punching him in the face right now.

“Are you fucking dense?” You scream, shaking your head, and jostling him as his arms try to reach out to swipe the hair away from your face.

“Must’ve hit him so hard you knocked his filter loose..” Sirius muses after he lands next to you two on the grass.

“POTTER’S TAKEN A HIT FROM (Y/H) and it doesn’t look good ladies and gents! Gryffindor calls a timeout to check on their captain!” The announcer calls out, and there are so many eyes on the two of you as James is simply giggling like a prepubescent schoolboy. Fuck, you’ve maimed the golden boy.

“Y’know, sweetheart. You’re…really sexy when you’re on top of me like this,” he says breathily, and you really can’t hit him, so you jab Sirius in the gut instead when he tries to laugh at his best friend’s stupidity.

—

James wakes up in the hospital wing with a blinding headache until someone gently pulls the curtains closed, stroking the hair off his sweaty forehead.

“Poppy you always take such good care of me…” he mumbles. A punch lands on his chest and his eyes rip open, not expecting to see you at his bedside.

“Idiot,” you mutter. “You’re always in my way and now look, you almost got yourself killed and it would’ve been my fault! How dare you, James…” The red is crawling up your neck like a brushfire as you berate him, and he takes it with a grin as you jabber on, putting his arms behind his head.

“Were you worried about me, love?” James smiles cheesily, catching your arm at its half-hearted attempt to slap him across the face.

“I was not. Stubborn people like you are hard to kill. I’m more annoyed that I can’t morally punch your face in since you have a concussion. Madame Pomfrey’s already healed your cheekbone.”

“That you broke,” he says matter-of-factly, taking a chance to kiss the palm of your hand. This concussion is working like a bottle of Felix Felicis. It’s endearing to see you taking care of him, whether you like it or not (even with the punches he’s sure it’ll come with).

“You’re sick in the head.”

“For you. I was trying to come tell you that I never took my eyes off the prize, but then of course you bludgeoned my face in before I could get sweet on yo—”

Your lips crash down on his, and nothing about it is delicate. It’s a month’s worth of yearning, imaginations coming to fruition as he grabs the back of your head to deepen the embrace. Your lips on his are hot and heady, and he could be easily convinced that he’s stuck there, cauterized to the shape of you.

“I know. I could feel you watching.” You breathe into his mouth, leaning up on his chest. His lips chase up again to meet yours, biting down on your bottom lip as you groan. He might like that noise better than the sound of your laughter. It’ll be fun to find out.

“Who won the Cup?”

Laughter spills out of your red, kiss-swollen lips as you pat his cheek gently, fingers grazing over his healed cheekbone.

“Not Gryffindor. But listen closely James, if you be a good boy and get past this concussion, I’ll make up for it by showing you how well I ride…”

He likes the sound of that, Quidditch Cup be damned. You see, James Potter never loses, ladies and gentlemen, not really—and well... there’s always next year.

—

“I like the way

you look at me

like you are

going to talk to me

or devour me

and I am fine with either.”

-N.R. Hart

taglist: @jsjcue

#made by ma1dita ♥︎#marauders x reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x reader #marauders era #james potter x you

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roosterr · 3 months

Text

i've known war

john 'soap' mactavish x gn!reader wc: 9.3k (whoops) summary: you're alive. he can get you back, he can hold you in his arms again. warnings: established relationship, angst and sadness and depression, hurt/comfort, canon typical violence, graphic description of injury, mentions of torture, eventual happy ending, military and medical inaccuracies, pls ignore any plot holes i beg

requested here! follow up to love you from afar, but can be read as a standalone. im so sorry this took me so long to write lmao.

it always feels like the first time when you kiss him. even now, years down the line, the sparks, the warmth, the daze that you leave him in; he truly believes it will never get old.

the way you look, standing in the open doorway of the helicopter, silhouetted against the bright blue sky, it makes his head feel so fuzzy he almost forgets why you're all here in the first place.

it's the sweet sound of his name passing your lips that pulls him back to the present, your voice sending his stomach fluttering.

"earth to johnny," you chuckle, turning to face him and resting your weight against one side of the open door, "what're you thinking so hard about?"

he can't help the smile that breaks out at the sound of your laughter. "just you." johnny replies, closing the small distance between you and snaking an arm around your waist. you smile as he leans in closer, murmuring low in your ear, "and, how i cannae wait to get ye home."

you laugh again, placing a hand on his chest but not quite pushing him back. "we've got a job to do first."

he takes your hand in his, running his thumb over your knuckles. "then we'd better get a move on, eh?"

"i'll race you," you grin at him, haloed by the light of the sun so beautifully he has to snap himself out of his reverence to respond.

"oh, you're on."

perhaps it was slightly irresponsible the way he was rushing the others along for his own gain, but within a matter of minutes they're breaching the facility and well on their way to being done with this.

it's only when he's stalking along a dimly lit corridor that he slows down. something was bothering him, an off feeling in the back of his mind that he just can't ignore.

before he can think about it any further, a boom shakes the walls, filling the air with dust and obscuring his vision even more. it was close enough to start a faint ringing in his ears, coming from back the way he came; where he'd split up with ghost and, more importantly, you.

he should stay on target, continue with what they're here to do, his job – but what if you were in trouble? if there's a chance you need his help, he couldn't risk it. it takes less than a second for him to turn back, making the decision to check on what caused the explosion before continuing.

quietly stalking back down the corridor, it takes him slightly longer to register the fact that he hasn't heard anything over the radio; no updates, no clever remarks from ghost, nothing. they worked not fifteen minutes ago, just after you'd split up and checked them. surely nothing could've happened in such a short space of time?

he does his best to push through the sinking feeling that tries to drag him down, but it's stubborn, creeping in from the corners of his mind.

he reaches where he left you in half the time it took him to walk away, the intersection of two corridors just as empty as the rest of the halls. he points his flashlight in the direction you went, and the feeling in his gut gets worse.

something glinting in the light catches his attention. the end of the corridor is collapsed, when it definitely hadn't been before, but it's what lies in front of the rubble that he zeroes in on. partially obscured by the layer of filth and blood coating it, there's no mistaking it when he kneels down, dropping his rifle to the ground beside him, and carefully takes the metal in his trembling hand.

it's a pair of id tags.

he numbly calls your name. it bounces off the walls and echoes back to him. the blood runs through the creases of his hand, staining the flesh. the letters of your name are clear through the dirt.

no. you can't be gone.

he looks up to the rubble, shrouded in darkness, back down to your tags, back up to the rubble, and there's a hand just visible under the concrete that looks sickeningly like yours and–

he tears his gaze away, back down to your tags. the chain is snapped, like it had been ripped off in a hurry, as if you'd known you were going to die and wanted to make sure he would find them–

no, no no. you're not dead. you can't be. he just saw you fifteen minutes ago, he bumped his helmet against yours in lieu of a kiss like he always did before you parted ways. you were fine and you were smiling at him. it was only fifteen minutes, you were right here, he can still hear your voice taunting him about the race between you, it was only fifteen minutes–

a heavy hand comes down on johnny's shoulder, startling him out of his panicked daze and instinctively he jumps up and swings his arm at whoever stuck up on him.

ghost catches his forearm easily, his eyes moving between your tags clutched in johnny's fist to the wreckage behind him. when he meets johnny's watery eyes again, the coldness in his gaze seems to soften as he arrives at the same conclusion.

the ringing in johnny's ears hasn't left. in fact, it's gotten worse.

"we– we gotta find 'em," johnny's breath comes out shallow and ragged, the panic slowly rising in his chest through the initial numbness. "fucks sake, they cannae– we– we–"

"johnny." ghost interrupts his sputtering short, bracing both hands on his biceps and giving him a gentle, grounding shake. "...come on."

"no! simon we–" his breath catches in his throat, heart constricting painfully beneath his sternum as he grips the front of ghost's vest in desperation. why was ghost giving up so easily? didn't he care? didn't he want to find you?

ghost lowers his gaze, tearing away from the distraught expression on the sergeant's face. "they're gone, soap."

"shut the fuck up!" johnny growls, despair seeping into his voice with every second that passes without you. he tries to shake ghost's hands off, but he doesn't budge. "ye dinnae ken that! they're still here somewhere, we cannae leave without 'em!"

he's gripping your tags like a lifeline, the metal searing against his palm and heavier than anything else he'd ever carried. he shouldn't have them, they shouldn't be in his hand, they should be around your neck, you should be here, with him, and not…

it's too much. his knees give out from under him and, despite ghost's firm grip on his shoulders, he sinks to the floor with his head in his hands.

"simon, fuck– please…" it's a whisper, under his breath, but he knows ghost heard from how he crouches down beside him, laying an arm over his heaving shoulders as he steadily begins to sob.

it's not real. it can't be real. he wants this to be a nightmare so fucking badly, but the pain in his chest is far too real, his tears burning tracks down his face, the weight of your absence pressing down on him and crushing him under the pressure.

he barely notices when price and gaz appear in the hall ahead of them, just about registering the sound of the debris crunching under their boots as they approach. the pair don't say anything as they take in the scene, looking down with furrowed brows at where johnny and ghost are crouched on the floor.

the captain opens his mouth to ask, but ghost cuts him of with a solemn shake of his head.

words are exchanged, but johnny doesn't hear them. his head feels impossibly light, an expanding pressure beneath his temples that makes it hard to think. the ringing keeps getting worse.

the sound of gunfire makes it through the fog. gaz and ghost each take one of his arms, hauling him to his feet and essentially dragging him after the captain as they make their way back out of the building. he can't bring himself to fight them. he blinks, and finds himself strapped into his seat, the one next to him hauntingly empty.

price is talking into the radio, to laswell he assumes, but johnny doesn't register anything he says – anything except the last two words:

"...one k.i.a."

the air is thick with a kind of tension he's never felt before, a shroud of numbness that he can't seem to shake. when they land it follows them, seeping into the air on base and pushing down on whoever crosses their path. none of them have to ask to understand what happened.

johnny keeps your tags, clutches them close to his heart, and practically bites the head off of anyone who tries to take them from his white-knuckled grip, even as he gets checked out in the medical wing. his quietness puts the medics on edge, he can tell. something about the way he doesn't even flinch when they cleanse his wounds, the polar opposite to his his usual talkative nature, it tells them there's no use trying to console him. they try to convince him to let the tags go, but he doesn't acknowledge their words.

the broken chain stays firmly wrapped around his palm until he's staring down his own hollow face in the bathroom mirror. he'd turned the sink on fifteen minutes ago to wash the blood away, the water so hot it fogs up his reflection, but he can't bring himself to put his hands under the stream.

because it's your blood, not just the usual grime from missions. if he washes it off, he's washing you off, and he doesn't want to do that, no matter how disgusting it is.

there's a knock at the door, and only then does he realise how long he's been staring at the red that decorates his hands. he still makes no effort to move.

despite his lack of response, gaz opens the door and meets his eyes in the mirror. there's a pause as he waits for johnny to say something, but when he only lets the silence go on, he takes it upon himself to approach.

"soap…" he utters, brows tilting in concern watching his friend continue to stare absently into the mirror. with a deep sigh, kyle takes his empty fist and pries his fingers from his palm. johnny's eyes gravitate to the fresh blood that wells up in the crescent indents. watching the red droplets fall, disappearing into the running water, the pain finally registering in his mind when kyle presses a cloth to his hand.

the sting of the hot water is there, a distant feeling as johnny allows him to wash the blood away, never saying a word as he watches kyle's efforts, like an observer of his own form, right there but looking in from the outside.

kyle reaches for your tags, but his fingers barely brush the metal before johnny is shoving him back with a rush of anger that happens so fast he doesn't even have time to process his own reaction.

with a thud, kyle's back hits the wall and for a moment neither of them dare move. they watch each other in silence, wide-eyed shock mirrored in both their expressions.

"i…" i'm sorry. the words catch in his chest, falling into the void there and never escaping for gaz to hear. he can't let him touch your tags. it's the only part of you he has left. "...don't touch 'em."

kyle squeezes his eyes shut, breathing a deep sigh through his nose. "alright, i'm sorry, i won't touch them." his tone is low and careful as he steps closer again, hands open so johnny can see them. he feels like a feral animal, being coaxed to let kyle approach. "but you need to rest, mate."

the weeks blend together after that day. some days johnny feels like the shock will never wear off, like he's living on autopilot. others, it all comes crashing down on him and even dragging himself out of bed becomes a challenge.

his dreams are plagued with images of you, lifeless and cold. it stops him from sleeping most nights, but others are filled with memories of your life together playing on loop, a constant reminder of what he can never have again.

the room you used to share is always filled with flowers; gardenias, gladioli, forget-me-nots, and anything else he sees that he thinks you'd like. when they wilt, and eventually die, he presses the petals in the pages of his sketchbook, keeping them in a box next to the very first flowers he ever got you, the memories preserved forever under your – his bed.

that same sketchbook that's filled with page after page of your image, some from the multitude of pictures he keeps of you, and when he inevitably runs out of references, he draws you from memory. it gets to the point where he can't pick up a pencil without your face haunting him; you always did love his art, even if he didn't think it was any good.

he knows he's not the only one taking it hard. the others are different too; gaz is quieter, something more serious in his eyes now. the captain doesn't appear moved on the surface, and neither does ghost, but when they look at the empty seat where you used to sit, the memory of you is evident in the way their shoulders deflate ever so slightly.

once word spreads about what exactly happened, the never-ending condolences and pitying looks from the people around base gets old very quickly. they tell him how they're so sorry for his loss and what happened to you was so tragic, and it shouldn't annoy him as much as it does, but he can't help the anger that bubbles up in his chest when they talk about you.

he doesn't want to hear it, and every time he has to listen to their pitying comments it only makes him resent them more. they didn't know you, they didn’t care, they probably didn't even know who you were before you died. they could never hope to understand what you meant to him, to the taskforce, the gap in their team that you left behind.

it's when someone suggests moving on from you that it all finally bubbles over.

six months later, a long time since that day but somehow no time at all. he'd gone out for drinks for the first time in a while, after some gentle coercion from simon, along with another group of soldiers staying on base.

he didn't even want to go, not really, but something in him knew he couldn't carry on like he had been. he needed some form of normalcy, one night where he can pretend everything is fine and you're just waiting for him back home, to just forget.

it didn't take him long to realise going out with them was a mistake. almost immediately he was dragged into a conversation with a few guys from another unit, and despite his many attempts they just wouldn't leave him be.

somehow, after about an hour of mindless chatter, they land on the topic of their love lives and recent conquests, and johnny immediately felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. he wanted to slip away, avoid what he knew was coming at any cost, but he couldn't get away fast enough.

one of them brings up your name, they all look to him with a sort of curiosity that makes his skin crawl. they ask him if he's planning on staying hung up on you forever. johnny says it's only been six months. one of them laughs and tells him it's just sad, and from the looks of it you weren't anything special.

johnny smashes a glass over his head. price benches him for a few weeks after that.

it's hell, being left behind, alone, while the others went on like usual, and truthfully he starts to resent them all, bit by bit from the first time he's left on the tarmac. it felt like they didn't care, that johnny's heart, his life, his soul has changed but they carried on without looking back once. he isolates and shuts them out in a fit of misplaced anger, building the walls around his heart higher and higher and letting that resentment fester.

the day of your funeral brings it all crashing down. after all those months of waiting, johnny didn't even make it more than five lines into the speech he'd prepared before he's breaking down and stumbling out the side door in a hyperventilating mess. simon follows behind like his shadow, sitting down with him when he slides down the wall with a hand clutching his chest. he cries into simon's shoulder for rest of the service, releasing all the pent up anguish he'd been trying to keep inside in a catharsis he didn't realise he needed.

when they get back to base the next morning, johnny’s practically begging to be allowed back in the field. he found himself missing the chaos, the unpredictability of the battlefield was where he was in his element. this job was how you met, how you got together, how you lived. he never felt closer to you than when he was out in the field with adrenaline pumping through his veins.

it takes some convincing, but price gives in and everything feels like it's back to normal. missions are quieter than they'd ever been, but johnny finds it doesn't bother him anymore. he feels your presence by his side like the sun on his back, always with him, like his guardian angel.

it's six more months before anything changes.

in the back of the helicopter, a few minutes out from the landing site, an oddly comforting sense of déjà vu washes over him. the bright blue expanse of the sky, the warmth of the sun on his skin, he almost feels that if he turned to his left, he'd see you sitting there with that same smile lighting up your face.

his fingers tighten around your tags.

"you watchin', bonnie?" he presses his lips to the cool metal, feeling your name under his skin as he mumbles to himself. his gaze finds the roof of the helicopter, and even without looking he knows the others are watching him, that familiar solemn look on their faces.

they were doing this for you. everything johnny did was for you. he puts your tags safely away in the pocket if his vest closest to his heart.

the helicopter jolts as it lands, and with no more than a second's hesitation he's shooting up from his seat, a renewed energy flooding his body to the tips of his fingers. they step out into the biting air, a chill than not even the afternoon sun could stave off, and quickly begin their march into the small facility.

"you two, take that side. gaz, with me." price commands, and with a sharp nod from the three of them, they split up and begin their canvassing. they were here for intel, but there was no guarantee they were alone, despite the emptiness of the halls they move through.

their footsteps echo off the walls, only the distant howling of the wind outside to accompany them. the hairs on the back of johnny's neck were on end, an unease setting off alarm bells in the back of his mind following behind ghost.

the déjà vu from earlier isn't comforting anymore. he doesn't feel you watching over him, and the feeling only gets stronger as they approach a doorway ahead, bathed in a red light.

ghost pauses in the entrance, looking back at johnny and waiting for his affirming nod before pushing forward. the room is empty, the same as the rest of the building, save for the table sitting against the far wall.

there's something else there, he notices as he creeps closer to get a better look. a frown darkens his expression. it's a laptop, untouched and central on the table, a strange contrast to the almost methodical emptiness around it.

"oi, check this." johnny calls, turning around as ghost stalks over with a similar confusion on his face.

"that what we're here for?" he asks, examining the laptop with a deep frown casting shadow over his eyes.

"looks like it." johnny replies, slowly and carefully picking it up as his frown deepens. he was half expecting it to somehow blow up, but when he lifts the screen it lights up to the desktop with no issue. "that's convenient."

"very convenient..." ghost grunts, jerking his head in the direction of the door and speaking into the radio as he walks ahead of johnny. "price, we've got it. headin' to exfil now."

back on base a few hours later, the four of them with the addition of laswell sit around the table in a meeting room with the doors firmly shut, eyes locked onto the laptop with rapt tension as gaz opens the only file they could recover from the device.

the video starts abruptly with 'the mask' – the pretentious alias of man that heads the organisation they've been steadily eliminating all this time – in front of the camera, the dingy room behind him barely lit, the walls splattered with what johnny could only assume was blood.

"i trust that my message has found you well, task force one-four-one." his voice comes through the speakers, crackly and distorted by the low quality recording. "you have been relentless in your pursuit of us, and i applaud you for your efforts, but it's time to put an end to this."

johnny looks back at price, watching as his expression hardens and his fingers dig into his arms where they're crossed over his chest. it's obvious they've been set up, but it's too late to be concerned with that now. the problem now is how they're going to continue knowing the enemy has information on them that they shouldn't have.

the sound of something being dragged brings his attention back to the video, facing the screen again to see another masked man dumping a person with a bag over their head onto a chair in the centre of the room.

"i have something i believe you will be interested in." the chuckle is audible in his voice even beneath the mask and through the screen.

their wrists and ankles are tied together, and if it weren't for the laboured rise and fall of their chest, johnny wouldn't be sure if they were even alive.

"fuck– a hostage?" price spits, and even without looking he knows laswell is already working on finding a location, if the sound of her rapidly typing is any indication.

"something very… precious to you."

the figure moves to stand behind the person in the chair and yanks the bag from their head. he grabs their jaw and forces them to look up, a sickening laugh meeting johnny's ears as they make eye contact with the camera.

it's…

it's you.

you're beaten and bruised and covered head to toe in blood, but it's undoubtedly you when the faceless man yanks your head up.

johnny's sure his heart stops.

you're alive. you've been alive all this time. in the hands of a terrorist, and within an inch of your life, but…

you're alive.

"drop your investigation of us, and i will let them live." the masked man stalks back around to your side, still holding your jaw in a vice grip. the way you cower, as much as you can with that man's filthy hands on you, it breaks something in johnny. how long have you been in their hands, how long have you been abused by them?

how long have you been waiting for him?

he feels sick to his stomach, but he can't tear his eyes away. the lacerations on your face, the endless bruises littering your skin – when he spots the ones around your neck, he has to swallow down the bile – and how you just seem so tired, barely even fighting to keep your eyes open.

the masked man looks down to you again, pausing as he directs you to look at him through what seems like a black eye. the five of them watch, frozen by shock or anger or both, as the man rears his hand back and slaps you across the face so hard your head whips in the other direction. a pained, defeated sound escapes you, and johnny’s sure a knife to the chest would hurt less.

"do not disappoint me, captain price, or your sergeant will regret it."

the video cuts to black.

the sight of your face is burned into johnny's retinas, every time he blinks your features are there, dripping in your own blood, the only thing he can see.

"kate, tell me you can find this." price growls behind him, his words sounding distant to johnny's ears.

she hums distractedly. "working on it."

their conversation doesn't register, floating in one ear and straight out the other. you're alive. he can get you back, he can hold you in his arms again. it's like his prayers have been answered for once in his life, and it may be some cruel trick from god to find you like this but johnny finds himself praying his thanks anyway.

"johnny…?" simon lays a hand on his shoulder, turning him in his chair to make worried eye contact with his shell-shocked expression. it jolts him out of his thoughts, the energy of the room a controlled kind of frantic as he comes back down to earth.

"that's– it's them, they're–" johnny sputters, gripping ghost's forearm with an absent desperation in his glassy eyes, "simon, they're alive."

he can't stop thinking about how empty your expression looked, the way you didn't have any fight left, and the gravity of what's been happening to you since the moment he lost you slowly creeps up on him.

have you given up hope of them finding you?

"we'll get 'em back, soap, listen to me," price drops a heavy, grounding hand on his other shoulder, halting his spiralling train of thought, "they're comin' home." his voice is resolute, no room for argument where he speaks it almost like a command.

johnny can only nod.

his head is still light as more rushed conversation happens around him. simon's hand is still on his shoulder, and that might be the only reason he hasn't completely fallen apart yet, but the thread is pulling taught enough to snap. his nails carve dents into his palms but he doesn't have the mind to unfurl them.

"sir, we've got a hit." gaz speaks up from where he's leaned over kate's shoulder, a determined glint in his eye when he meets the captain's gaze. johnny’s head snaps in his direction, his pulse quickening with every word that sparks new hope in his chest. "two hundred klicks northeast of where we found the laptop."

"good work, you two," price is pacing back and forth, scratching his beard with a calculating look on his face. they watch him for a moment, waiting for his command on what their next move will be, but johnny finds his patience wearing incredibly thin.

"the fuck we waitin' for? let's get out there'n go after the wee bastards!" he growls, his narrowed gaze darting between price and the others as he steadily grows more and more restless.

simon shakes his head from beside him, "hold your horses."

"this is delicate, we have to do this one right." price pauses, his eyes losing their hardness as he meets johnny's desperate face. "i know how much this means to you, but you're too close to this, soap."

the pause that follows that is so thick with tension it makes it hard to breath. a boiling type of rage bubbles up in his chest, extending to every trembling limb and turning his vision red. there was no way in hell he wasn't going to be there for you every step of the way when – not if – they rescued you.

"ye can get yersel' right tae fuck!" he spits, his face contorted with anger as he shoots up from his chair and points an accusatory finger at the captain. "that's too far, price, ye cannae keep me outta this!"

"johnny, sit down." simon warns, using the hand still on his shoulder to put some space between him and price, but johnny doesn't budge; this was far too important.

"yer aff yer heid, both of ye's! if ye won't let me come, i'll go mysel', ye fuckin' hear?" he growls, shaking free of simon's hand. his glare travels between him and price, hands wound into fists at his sides.

the air turns heavy as they stare each other down. if price thinks he'll back down on this, johnny would love nothing more than to prove him wrong.

he's moments away from meeting his fist to price's face when gaz stands up and gets between them. "that's his other half, sir. respectfully, he deserves to be part of this." he reasons, giving price a firm look and a small nod to johnny. "you'd be the same in his position."

the tension is palpable. he watches over gaz's shoulder as the captain deliberates, clearly having an internal battle over the decision, but eventually he sighs and fixes johnny with a stern look.

price closes the distance between them, patting gaz on the arm as he passes. "screw your head on, mactavish. we only get one shot at this, i need to know i can trust you not to fuck it up."

a spark of hope makes johnny's heart race, and he gives price a single resolute nod of confirmation. "i won't, sir."

laswell stands and walks around the table to stand beside price, a similarly firm expression. "we have to play this carefully. they wanted us to find that laptop, i have no doubt they wanted us to find where they are too."

"so what's our angle?" gaz asks.

laswell and price share a look.

"this has to be off the books, there's no way we'll get clearance for this." laswell answers, her expression turning noticeably darker, looking over to price as she continues, "if we want them back alive, we'll have to act fast. that means we're on our own."

the captain nods with no hesitation. "we are getting my sergeant back. i don't care how we have to do it."

they're loading into the back of a helo not even an hour later. the five of them, along with two field medics and the pilot, with the strict instructions in johnny's head to bring you home or to not come back at all.

there's only one coherent thought racing through his mind for the entire; you. getting you back, taking you home, finding the man that took you away from him – and hurt you – and making him pay.

he fishes your tags out of his pocket and presses them to his lips in a lingering kiss, just like he always does. soon, he thinks, it would be you he'd be kissing, not just a remnant of you.

the flight passes by so quickly it's almost as if he'd blinked and they were landing again.

the air is glacial as they ready themselves, preparing for the mask to put up a fight that they fully intend to win. the plan was decided on during the journey; kate and ghost would provide support from a distance while price, gaz, and johnny would confront the bastard head on. his focus is razor sharp, marching through the trees and underbrush, blood rushing in his ears and jaw clenched painfully tight.

the sky is just as strikingly blue as the day he lost you.

bring you home, or don't come back.

they reach a break in the trees, surrounding the small facility they tracked the video to that looked more like a derelict warehouse than a base. either way, the dark figure of their target is visible against the brick wall, surrounded by a number of his own soldiers – johnny counts six as he, price, and gaz make themselves known coming through the treeline. they share a quick look; they know how this will end.

"well met, captain," the mask calls, slowing to a stop and leaving a few metres of space between himself and the three of them, "will you make the right choice, or will your sergeant suffer for your pride, i wond–"

his monologue is cut short by a shot from the darkness of the treeline and lodging mercilessly into the base of his throat. his deadweight hits the ground with a thud that echoes, and in less than a second bullets are flying.

soap tightens his grip on his gun, raising it to glare down the sights and firing at the soldier nearest to him and dropping him with one well placed bullet to the leg and another to the face once he was on the floor.

another shot from the treeline drops one more; four left.

gaz and price take out another two between them in a similar fashion to soap, leaving two still standing – one of whom was advancing fast with the barrel of his gun pointed at soap while the other backed away.

one more shot rings out from the trees and one more body falls, but the last hostile was far too close for comfort now, johnny had no choice but to tackle him to the ground, narrowly avoiding being shot himself on the way down.

a few seconds pass as they wrestle on the ground, both trying desperately to gain the upper hand but falling just short because of the other. from his peripheral soap can see price running to his aid, but his momentary distraction allowed his assailant to take the upper hand and roll on top of him.

hands constrict around his neck, cutting off his airflow, but a well timed shot from price sends him falling over sideways, sputtering blood from the wound in his side.

soap heaves and cough, pulling air back into his lungs and glaring at the body of the man who almost got the better of him. this only meant they were one step closer to getting you back; he was one step closer to having you in his arms again. it didn't matter if he got hurt in the process.

price's outstretched hand suddenly appears in his vision, "get up soap, we've got a job to do."

his daze melts away and he takes the captain's hand, allowing himself to be pulled upright with an affirming nod shared between them.

"good aim, ma'am." gaz calls over the radio, looking down his nose at the steadily declining state of the mask; his infamous facade now cracked and broken, revealing the agonised face beneath.

"bring 'em home, boys." kate replies, and though he can't see her face johnny can imagine the commanding look she's undoubtedly wearing.

gaz backs away as johnny crosses the mess of crimson and dirt to where the mask lays, sprawled out and immobilised by his injuries but still very much alive, giving the fellow sergeant a respectful nod as he goes. "he's all yours, mate."

johnny stands over his fading form, watching with a detached look in his eye as the blood spills from the gaping wound in his neck with every struggled breath, his disjointed intake of air and the pathetic sputters as he inhales his own viscera. there's not a shred of mercy in him as he gazes down at the man, every bit of agony was completely deserved for what he did to you. the death that claws at him would be a blessing.

he gurgles to johnny, raising a weak arm to brush the hem of his trousers as he attempts to expel the words, "pl–ea– plea-se–"

johnny scoffs, dry and venomous. he has half a mind to leave him to suffer until the life finally bleeds from him, but the pure rage he feels listening to this bastard plead for help after putting you through hell for a year is far too strong for him to restrain.

it's unconscious, the way johnny's arm raises to point the barrel of his pistol squarely at the centre of his forehead. he pauses for a moment, if only to see the fear creep into the bastard's expression before his fingers squeeze the trigger and the light is gone from his eyes.

his chest stops heaving and his hand drops back to the mud, leaving nothing but a few bloody fingerprints in his wake.

johnny pulls the trigger again.

and again, and again, and again, until his face is nothing more than a cavity of gore and lead and the ringing in his ears blocks out everything else around him.

a firm hand comes down on his shoulder and it’s only then does he notice the tension in his muscles and the fierce sneer pulling at his features. his eyes snap to the dark figure in the corner of his vision, meeting the bone white of simon's mask and the frown underneath.

"that'll do, johnny." simon murmurs, his own darkened eyes glaring down at the mangled corpse laying at their feet. he nods, somewhat absently, and turns away from the offending body.

there were more important things he needed to keep his head on straight for.

neither him or simon spare the remains of the mask another glance as they leave him behind. price and gaz are waiting by the entrance for them, and as soon as they're close enough they head together into the dark corridors of the building.

as the creep through the abandoned building, now deep in the cold basement, weapons poised and on high alert, there's a new sense of dread that forms in the back of his mind; what if you're not here after all? what if the mask was bluffing and you're already dead?

johnny grits his teeth and shakes his head to rid himself of that damning train of thought. he couldn't afford to think like that, he wouldn't, but another corridor of empty rooms has his heart sinking like an anchor to his stomach. he's trying to stay hopeful, but every dead end only makes him feel worse.

price grips his shoulder, firm and comforting, with a look in his eye to match as he catches johnny's gaze. "we'll find 'em, soap."

"i know." he replies, but there's a waver in his voice despite the certainty of his words. price doesn't release his gaze or his shoulder until he moves to follow the others.

he doesn't say much else as the search continues. the ringing in his ears is back, amplified by the eerie silence of the halls. he can feel the air getting colder after each empty room the clear.

the time passes arbitrarily, until there's one last room to check. johnny watches gaz and ghost pry it open, the sound of the lock breaking only just reaching him through the fog over his senses.

gaz pauses once the door swings open, his eyes locked onto something in the room as they widen dramatically. he still doesn't tear his gaze away as his jaw falls open, something frantic in the way he yells, "soap!"

a spark of hope strikes his heart and travels to the very ends of his limbs, a new burst of energy filling him as he shoves past his teammates to stand in the doorway and look into the room himself.

it's you.

curled into yourself in the corner of the damp cell, shivering with your face buried in your knees with your hands clamped over your ears. it's almost uncanny, how small you look. the tremble in your limbs, the fear in your quickened breaths, it was the exact opposite of how you should be, but despite it all…

it's really you.

johnny feels his heart swell painfully with relief, and without another second of hesitation he's skidding to his knees beside you and gripping the cold skin of your wrists. you let out a muffled sob at the contact, and johnny feels his blood turn cold when it meets his ears.

"don't!" you cry, weak and desperate. johnny's caught off guard with how you try to rip yourself away from him, the shakes that wrack your body only increasing when he keeps his hold on you. "get off! please– please don't!"

his heart cracks anew at the distress in your hoarse voice. he feels his eyes well up with hot tears that he has to fight to keep from falling.

"hey, it's me! it's johnny, it's your johnny! look at me, sweetheart, i'm here!" he tries to calm you with his words, keeping his voice low between you both, but you keep your eyes screwed tightly shut.

johnny lets go of your wrists to cup your face in his hands instead, gently turning your head towards him and using his thumbs to stroke soft shapes into your cheeks. the gesture makes your breath hitch audibly, and your eyes slowly open to meet his. "that's it, I'm here, i got ye, yer alright."

"don't– i don't– i can't…" whatever you're trying to say is broken up by the effort it takes you to keep breathing through your sobs. you still try to lean away from his touch, but johnny doesn't let you move far. he has to bite the inside of his cheek to hold back his own breakdown.

"no-one's gonna hurt you again, darlin', i promise ye." he murmurs, searching your glassy eyes while he continues to smooth his thumbs over the skin of your face, wet with your tears. "c'mere, i've got ye…"

with little more resistance from you, johnny gathers you into his arms and presses you close to his chest, they way he'd been dreaming off all the time you'd been apart. he pays no mind to the way the hard ground digs into his knees, and instead focuses on feeling the rise and fall of your ribcage against his own, your heartbeat under his fingertips, and the very real sound of your voice.

"you– j-johnny…" you stutter, your hiccuping sobs gradually fading away as you grip the bulk of his vest like a lifeline. "are you… real?"

"i'm real, darlin'," his voice cracks despite his efforts to stay strong for you. he presses his lips to the tip of your head in a lingering kiss, partly so you won't see the glossy tears in his eyes as he tries to stamp them down. "i'm here. i swear, i'm never lettin' you out of my sight again."

the simple feeling of your weight leaning against him is so overwhelming he's worried he might faint. he lets you calm down, rubbing soothing patterns up and down your arms and back and wherever he can reach, even when the position becomes uncomfortable and the dampness from the floor has seeped into his bones.

eventually though, he does pull back, softly shush you when you protest in the thought that he's leaving you, and cups your head in his warm hands.

"let's get you home, eh?" he smiles. your uncertain eyes dart between his for a moment, searching, before you nod. it's weak and hesitant, but the gesture makes his grin stretch a little wider all the same. "c'mon then, think ye can walk?"

johnny sighs when you shake your head, looking down and seeming almost embarrassed by your frail condition as if any of this was your fault. if he could kill that bastard again, he wouldn't even hesitate.

it's no bother to him to haul you up with him, holding you carefully against his chest with an arm under your knees and the other around your back. you still gingerly grip the top of his vest, your free arm looping itself around his neck and pulling yourself as close to him as you can muster. he gives a concise nod to the others, crowded in the doorway, and they begin the trek back to the helo.

the sunlight causes you to bury your face in the crook of johnny's neck, shielding your eyes from the blindingly bright rays. he allows himself a moment of distraction as they cross the clearing to revel in the feeling. he'd feel the sun on his face again, but he'd never again take for granted a single moment he spends with you.

they're almost to the edge of the clearing, almost departed from that haunted place with a graveyard of mangled bodies in their wake, but he doesn't quite make it to the treeline.

a single gunshot echoes through the clearing and before any of them can react, the shell has found its mark in johnny's leg. the force and shock of it sends him tumbling to the floor, scrambling through the blossoming pain to brace his fall on his arms so he won't land on top of you.

there's yelling, returning fire, but johnny can only focus on covering your body with his own, shielding you from any harm that might find you. even through the agony travelling up his thigh, even when the air is still again, and even when his own eyes are threatening to follow yours in falling shut and succumbing to the weakness that drags him down.

when did you shut your eyes? johnny slips his hand under your hand, grunting in his chest as his weight shifts, and to his horror his fingers come back red.

no, no no. he only just got you back, he cannot lose you again.

he doesn't even register that he's shouting – for help, a medic, something – until his weight is being heaved over ghost's shoulder and you're being taken by price, the cracks in his stony expression only fuel the sick dread making its way up johnny's throat.

back in the helo, in no time but he doesn't remember the journey, he tries to push the medic away who starts working on his leg, slurring for them to help you first. they ignore him, obviously, and if he had any energy left he would've berated them for not listening. ghost holds him down as they secure the tourniquet, and as his vision finally begins to fade, he turns his head to the side so you can be the last thing he sees as he slips into unconsciousness.

for once, he doesn't dream of you.

there are no images of your body, laying motionless under the rubble. he sleeps in blissful oblivion, his head completely silent, and wakes a day and a half later feeling more rested than he ever has despite the wound in his leg.

simon is by his bedside when he finally opens his eyes. it's late, the room dark apart from the fluorescent light bleeding in from the gap under the door and simon's phone highlighting his balaclava. he notices the moment johnny turns his head to watch him, because of course he does, and reaches over to turn on the lamp on the side table without a word.

"mornin', lt…" johnny mumbles, voice hoarse and eyes heavy as he pushes through the tiredness clinging to his senses to sit up in his bed. the light is abrasive to his eyes, but he blinks through the sting and manages a lazy smile towards simon.

"evenin', more like." he replies, a trace of humour in the way his eyes lift at the corners. "been asleep nearly thirty-eight hours."

johnny baulks at that, suddenly feeling a lot more awake from the cold shock that passes through him. "thirty–? jesus wept, i need'ta–" he sputters, wide-eyed as he throws the blankets from his legs and starts to get up, "i need'ta see 'em, how–"

before he can get his feet on the ground however, he's pushed back by simon's hand on his chest, forcing him to sit back and acknowledge the pain radiating from his thigh.

"they're fine, johnny." simon tells him, punctuated with a roll of his eyes before he continues, "been in and out of consciousness, but they're stable."

johnny sighs deeply, relief flooding through his body as he slumps back against his pillows. you're okay, you're alive, you're here, and you're home and safe. his thoughts have already begun racing and despite how much his wounds are aching, he's already set his mind to how he's going to see you as soon as possible.

as if sensing his plotting, simon leans forward to catch his gaze and even through the mask johnny can see the look he's sending him.

"i'm goin' back to bed, so don't do anythin' stupid." simon begins, pushing himself to stand using the arms of his chair and narrowing his eyes as he leans even closer. "if you rip these stitches, i'll put 'em back in myself, clear?"

"crystal, lt." johnny nods, and simon holds his stare as one last warning before he turns to leave – but not without giving him a firm pat just below his bandages that makes him wince, feeling the silent threat behind the gesture as he watches simon exit silently out into the hall.

johnny swings his legs over the side of the bed the second the door swings shut again, a sharp intake of breath following the movement as his weight shifts. surely he could get to where you are without making his wound any worse, he hard could it be?

he makes it two doors down before he realises that this might've been a bad idea. the muscles of his thigh burn and his breath comes out in heavy, stuttered huffs, but despite the strain on his injured body he refuses to give up before he's seen that you're okay with his own two eyes.

the fourth door he peeks through is where he finds you, the sight of your sleeping form instantly overpowering the pain in his leg. he shoulders open the door and beelines in a limp to your bedside, his gaze never once leaving your face until he's close enough to grasp your hand in a slow, featherlight touch like you'd disappear if he made a wrong move. you don't react as he strokes your knuckles, but johnny is more than content to just sit with you, perched on the edge of your bed and taking in the way your breath fills your lungs, the gentle thrum of your pulse under his fingertips on your wrist.

time passes easily like this, until the minutes have gone by and he can find the strength to lift himself into the bed beside you, snaking his arm around your neck and shoulder to hold you close as he settles in, careful not to agitate any of your own injuries.

"i missed you, my love," johnny whispers, dragging his fingers up and down your arm, pressing his lips to the crown of your head, "i missed you so much…"

your fingers twitch in his hold, the steady rhythm of your breathing hitching as a shaky sigh leaves you. johnny freezes, his hand stilling on your bicep and his eyes growing wide.

"john–" the sound of his name passing your lips pulls him out of his shock, and he pulls back to watch your eyes twitch and flutter open. your voice is raspy and still weak, but not even an angel choir could sound sweeter to him. "johnny…?"

"i'm here–" his voice breaks, but he continues anyway, "i'm here, i got ye." he murmurs, careful to keep his voice low despite how much he wants to cry from joy. "how ye feelin'? you comfy, sweetheart? any pain?" he asks, shifting the both of you to sit against the pillows and keep you nestled against his side.

"i'm okay–" your hoarse response is interrupted by a cough that devolves into wet hiccups, your hands curling tightly into his shirt as you look up at him, "it– am i– it's–"

"shushsh, i'm here darlin', i've got ye." he coos, his eyes welling up to match yours, resuming his soothing touch over your arm. you stay like that, for minutes that could've been hours, gazing into each other's eyes while you softly cry and johnny comforts you.

it aches him to see you cry, but he can't help but awe at how beautiful you still manage to be, with cuts and bruises and tears littering your face. his heart swells in his chest with the love he holds for you.

your hand finds its place on johnny's cheek, your staggered breaths calming down at last. he covers it with his own to feel more of your skin on his. a wince crosses your expression as you try to lean up towards him, but he stops you before you hurt yourself any further and leans his forehead against yours.

you pull his face even closer, digging your fingertips into his cheek in an almost uncomfortable sensation, before brushing your lips against his in something like disbelief. "am i dreaming?"

"no, my love," he utters against your skin, taking your bottom lip between his teeth, nudging your cheek with his nose, "this is real."

your breath hitches again when he closes the little space left between you and presses his lips to yours, encapsulating you in a kiss that holds every ounce of desperation he's been holding on to. it's passionate, all-encompassing, and it reminds him of the first time he kissed you all those years ago. your free hand travels up to his hair, tangling the longer strands around your fingers and drawing a groan from deep in his chest.

he's reluctant to let you when you pull away for air, tasting the salt from your last stray tears as he chases your lips.

"say it again…?" you ask in a murmur, your eyes fluttering open again. the look you give him, one of pure hope that you won't suddenly wake up alone, it makes johnny's heart miss a beat.

he squeezes your hand, turning slightly to leave a kiss on your palm. "it's real, bonnie. i'll die before i ever let you go again."

your mouth opens to say something, but you stop yourself just before you can choke the words out, fresh tears building in your eyes again. johnny gives you an encouraging nod, holding your gaze while you muster the courage to voice what you're thinking.

"i–" you begin, your words catching on a lump in your throat, "i watched you leave without me, i had to watch the helicopter disappear and, and you…" your voice fades, eyes darting between his while they gloss with unshed tears once again.

"sweetheart…" he frowns, his heart breaking anew from the anguish that he never wants to hear in your voice.

you swallow thickly, your hold on his hair tightening ever so slightly. "i thought– i didn't think you'd ever find me…"

"i'd always find you." johnny replies, his resolute tone leaving no room for argument. he touches his forehead to yours again and lowers his voice to continue, "even if i had to go tae the ends of the earth, i'd never stop lookin' fer you."

his words release the fresh tears you've been holding back, and with a quiet sob you drop your face to the crook of his neck, gripping his hair and face tighter still. johnny softly shushes you, rocking the two of you back and forth as much as he can with you held close in his arms.

"you're staying with me tonight…" your voice is muffled, spoken into his neck and sending goosebumps rippling across his skin. a comforting nostalgia follows your words, one he can't help but chuckle at.

"would'nae have it any other way, darlin'."

#soap x reader #soap mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #mw2 x reader #mw3 x reader #cod x reader #141 x reader #call of duty x reader #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish #roosterr writes

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rookiesbookies · 5 months

Text

Boys reacting to their s/o smacking their ass

Here’s the boys I write for (might add Horangi and Kruger to the roster)

Masterlist is pinned on my account as always

Please for the love of god leave me request, TELL ME WHAT YOU ALL WANT <3

Fic under the cut

Price

Whoever let his wife on base the day they were breaking in new recruit was so fucking dead. He bets it was Simon. Yeah, his wife always brought a home cooked meal for the team. Yeah, he always got smooches and got to feel her up at work. But he never expected this behavior from his sweet little wife when she knew how new recruit days were.

He bets it was Soap and Gaz, daring her to do it. They loved trying to get her in trouble, which is why he never allowed his kids to be watched by them. Lord knows how much trouble the two would encourage.

He heard it before he felt it. It echoed in the open field. Probably heard for miles.

She let out a squeak as he slowly turned to look at her, recruits had stopped the exercises they were doing and she bolted from the stand they were on watching.

“It wasn’t supposed to be that loud!” She squeaked, “Gaz and Soap told me to do it! They said you’d find it funny! That if I did it they wouldn’t beg me for baked goods ever again!”

As she jogged ahead to keep the distance between them as his long strides were closing the distance with ease.

“Simon has the kids, I should really go check on him! Your sons can be quite the handful! I think I hear him calling for me now, I should really go!” She squeaked out more, her jog quickly turning to a run as she took off through the base.

He quickly snatched her up.

“I’m going to teach you a lesson about listening to Kyle and Johnny.” John grumbled.

Soap

Stupid fucking booty shorts. Soap had found her stupid booty short in his laundry. He was now prancing around the shared apartment in them. They were so small on him she was surprised he could fit in them and knew he was in no way comfortable, he was however, a great actor. They were so short the bottoms of his spandex underwear were longer by like 2 inches.

“Johnny, take them off.”

“No,” he retorted proudly, “they were in my laundry so they’re mine now.”

That was the line she used to steal his undershirts so they could be used as nightgowns.

She grumbled, “fine,” before getting an idea.

He was making pancakes in the kitchen, breakfast for dinner Saturdays, as they both had started. His apron was even longer than the short, jeez. He continued shaking ass to whatever song was in his headphones as he hummed along to it.

“Target locked,” she mumbled to herself. Sneaking in.

The smack echoed. His ass was pulled so tight in them it basically slipped out to jiggle from the hit. He folded backwards in dramatics.

“I’m hit! I’m hit!” He cried as if he was radioing to his team. “Taking the enemy down with me, sir!”

She was laughing too hard to pay attention as his hand connected with her ass. The sweatpants muffled it but she fell to the ground too.

Ghost

She always pinched his ass. Especially if he was fresh from the gym. The first time had surprised him but after that he was pretty good at predicting it and catching her hand.

However, a full on smack at a pub celebrating with the boys? Oh that was new.

She was drunk, so he had expected something dumb from her. He was bound to do something dumb too. But he was going to wait until they got home and not when he was bent over the bar slightly to talk to the bartender over the loud music.

He thought he heard a record scratch as her hand connected with his butt. He turned around, throwing his card at Johnny. Letting him know to buy himself a drink and pay for their tab before pulling her out as she giggled.

He’d handle this at home.

But for now he planted a light pat pat on her butt and her eyes went wide.

“Haha sorry Simon, I’ve sobered up now! You can put me down!”

Konig

She had been hugging him from behind after his most recent return from a mission. He was stirring the soup she had started for herself, not expecting him to be home for another week or so.

“Meine Taube, can you go put my mask up.” He handed her his mask off his face, leaning down to give a peck on the lips, “I will give you the kiss you deserve when you return.”

She had pittered off down the hall a bit when she got an idea. Perhaps revenge for how he had surprised her when he got home.

She was listening to music loudly, swaying her hips and humming when he got home. It was dark out so she hadn’t noticed the car being his as it drove past, and she hadn’t noticed the sound of the front door unlocking either.

All she knew was a hand connected with her ass while another covered her mouth to muffle her scream, while she had been cooking. She was so scared it was an intruder.

So she began to seek out revenge. She slid on the hood and did her best quiet walk before getting behind Konig who thought she was back from putting up his mask.

SMACK.

It echoed down the hall as she bolted. His heavy steps followed with an all too large smirk on his face.

He found her hiding behind a giant laundry basket and pulled her out from behind it by her ankle. She clutched the mask to her chest with wide eyes, forgetting the size of her husband.

“There was this crazy noise, I think it was a gunshot! I had to duck for cover, I thought they had come for you!” She rambled as she pulled her down the hall by her ankle, her back to the floor and her shirt riding up. “I was so worried but that was a crazy noise! I wonder where it came from!”

“Uh-huh.”

Keegan

This man is 8 kinds of caked up. His girlfriend knows it and so does he. Its not like Gaz’s relationship where only the girlfriend does the ass smacking, in Keegan’s it goes both ways.

“Hey, lovey, can you reach the cinnamon for me?”

Little did this poor man know, this was a set up. The cinnamon never ends up that high up. So when he reached, a crack echoed through the apartment.

She fell over laughing so hard at the noise it made. She curled up laughing on the floor. She almost couldn’t breath as Keegan went over to the fridge and added a tally to her side of the mini white board.

“Damn, you’re three ahead of me this month! I'm impressed. You’re getting sneakier,” he said as she gasped she was laughing so hard. “Did you even need the cinnamon?”

She shook her head and he sighed.

“Ah hell. I gotta catch up now.”

It wasn’t until after dinner when he did, sneaking one in as she was washing plates. She almost dropped the one she had been scrubbing.

Gaz

Gaz wasn't one for grabbing or smacking people's behinds, but his girlfriend was a different story—she seemed to have made a sport out of it. Every time he bent over or even when he least expected it, she was there to strike.

Soap seemed to encourage this behavior.

It was a rare sight to see Simon giggle, but this was the only time it happened.

Even Price couldn't help but stifle a laugh every time Gaz looked shocked at his girlfriend's antics.

What Gaz never mentioned was that he didn't really mind it and had never asked her to stop. There was one time when she didn't do it, and he turned around looking genuinely concerned, asking if that was how she was breaking up with him. Feeling guilty, she had to continue the act because Gaz was in on it, though the others didn't know. They enjoyed making Simon laugh so much he had to bite his mask to muffle it.

When they were drunk, she and Soap even played a game to see if Gaz could figure out who did it. Sometimes, Gaz would turn around to see his girlfriend across the bar, completely confused.

The whole situation was a hilarious secret between them, with Gaz never letting on that he was actually into it. Gaz saw no reason to let the cat out of the bag. The amused glances and hidden smirks between him and his girlfriend were their little inside joke.

Remember to submit requests, check out the masterlist pinned on my account, and let me know what you want to see!

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urrockstar-xe · 4 months

Text

winter formal - p.parker x fem!reader

aka a starstruck christmas

posted jan 2nd, 2024 8:55pm

this is specifically for @heywardsarchive who said i should make a part 2 so thank u pals :D

this is also fairly late, happy new year, thanks for being here.

summary; although reader misses hanging around her special spider friend, her crush on a certain peter parker boy has her distracted use of Y/n

starstruck does not need to be read first to enjoy this!

starstruck

masterlist

wordcount: 2.1

It had been a few weeks since you had seen that familiar spider up close, nothing more than him swinging from afar, not that you should’ve been complaining. All of your time was being taken up by studying and then getting tutored by that Midtown High kid, Peter Parker. He was a lot cooler than you had expected but the fact all you did when hanging out was math really tainted the image of him in your head.

no matter how pretty he was.

Although with the holidays, more crime typically followed Santa around the globe so you weren’t exactly surprised how Spidey was extra busy this time of year.

Yet you still sighed in disappointment when you got home and once again met a note on your windowsill.

”Hey, pretty lady, stopped by but you weren’t in :( can’t wait til you’re done with your tutoring sessions”

The note was short but still, it brought a stupid little smile to your face, pulling out the notebook from your backpack, you wrote a note of your own.

”miss you spidey”

you set it on the outside of your window, setting a small rock from your desk on top so that it wouldn’t run away in the wind before quickly shutting your bedroom window and shivering from the cold.

“Maybe I should get a onesie”

“Y/n? You still with me?” Peter asked, grabbing your attention away from the window of the coffee shop you sat in. “Yeah, sorry, Peter” You give a quiet laugh, looking back at the window for a second, just checking to see if he’s out there before turning back to Peter, who was looking at you with a soft smirk.

“What, why are you looking at me like that?” You asked, earning a laugh from the boy as he set his pen down.

“When did I lose you?” He asked, ignoring your question. “I don’t know,” You shrugged, honestly.

Peter shook his head, his smile unmoving as he closed the book in front of him. He leaned back into the leather of the booth, turning his gaze to your face. “Can’t get you focused at all lately” He joked, but not really. “I’m sorry” You gave him a half smile, hoping it would help your apology come off as genuine, just earning another laugh from the boy as he took his glasses off.

God, he’s so hot. dude don’t think like that he’s right there

oh god what if he’s a mind read-

“Y/n? Again? C’mon, sweetheart” He chuckled, snapping you out of your thoughts. You laughed with him this time. “I’ve just got like no sleep lately,” You explained, ignoring the way your heart sped up at the pet name and earning a sympathetic smile and nod from Peter. “Is there a reason why?” He asked, leaning forward just slightly as if you were sharing secrets.

“It feels like waiting for a phone call every night” You shrugged, not missing how Peter’s face fell at your words.

“Oh, boy trouble?” He asked, quieter this time. “something like that” he just hummed in response, not wanting to press any further.

“Well, if you need a distraction, there’s this school thing-“ “Oh you mean at Nerdtown High?” You cut him off with a tease, laughing at how Peter scoffed and couldn’t help his smile. “Yeah, it’s like a winter formal dance thing, I’m in charge of takin’ pictures and stuff, could use some company” He shrugged, not wanting to just outwardly ask you.

“And I have a special invite from the photographer himself?” You feigned a flattered face, dramatically putting your hand over your heart.

“Yes,” he laughed, “if you want to come, that is.” He shrugs, smiling at you. You mimicked his actions from earlier, leaning forward into the end of the table, still far enough to not feel his breath but close enough to make Peter slightly tilt his head as if unsure of what you were doing.

Okay, so maybe how pretty he was did make a difference

“So, what are we wearing?” You asked, smiling.

The last-minute invite limited your options but luckily you managed to dig up something from your closet and accessorize enough to feel good about how you looked. While you were putting your earrings in, a knock hit your window, interrupting your giddy feelings about going to a school dance with Peter.

Your head whipped around when there was a second knock, knowing now who it was as you got up and quickly opened the window, laughing at how Spidey dramatically fell into your room, completely on purpose.

“hi” You smiled, putting on your jacket to shield yourself from the cold. “hey, pretty lady” Spider-man’s voice was distorted, muffled almost but also sounded like he was purposely making his voice quieter and deeper. “Why do you sound like that?” You laughed as you asked the question.

“Got a cold” he shrugged, before looking you up and down. “You look nice” Spiderman nodded, as if in approval but also as if he had to shut up before saying more.

“Thanks, don’t stare too much though, I’ve got a date!” You teased, smiling excitedly as you sat back down and focused on the red color lining your lips before blending it with your fingertip.

“A date huh?” He asked, not even trying to hide his shock at this point. You sigh, dramatically looking back at Spiderman, earning a chuckle at your theatrics. “Well, I think it’s a date, but if you ask questions, it sucks the fun out of it.” He nodded as if he understood your explanation.

He didn’t.

“You remember that tutor I mentioned?”

Spidey hummed in response, making himself comfortable on your old bean bag chair, watching you finish getting ready.

“It’s with him” You spoke with a giddy light to your voice as you applied lip oil over the red on your lips.

The silence from the usually obnoxious talkative spider caught your attention.

And while you didn’t know why, it was because he was internally panicking.

“Thought he was like a total nerd” He laughed awkwardly, worried he’d blow his cover.

“Oh, he totally is,” You chose to ignore the scoff from Spidey as you continued speaking. “But, he’s also like charming and funny, and he’s so fuckin cute, he calls me sweetheart and like how he rambles apologies whenever he’s late and he always insists on walking me home even though I'm way out of his way for his own walk. Oh my gosh and the other day he hugged me which reminded me so much of that scene at the end of Tangled, like he just hugged all of me, does that make sense? Like he needed to be as close as possible, Ugh”

As you rambled on about your almost embarrassing crush on Peter, all he could hear was his heart pounding in his chest, he had spent weeks as Spiderman, coming to your rescue for mundane tasks, going as far as leaving notes when he wanted to see you but couldn’t.

Here he was thinking Peter Parker was ruining his plans as your math tutor, meanwhile, He was the one you couldn’t stop rambling about.

Not Spiderman

But Peter.

He was freaking the fuck out.

“Oh my god, what time is it?” You asked, cutting off Peter’s Spiderman’s thoughts as you urgently looked for your phone. “Spidey, you know I love you, babe, but he’s gonna be here like any second.” You offered an apologetic smile as Spiderman waved it off, a way to say It’s all good,

“Hey, have fun tonight, pretty lady!” He said, clearing his throat as if he was trying not to cough, and before you had a chance to respond, Spiderman was gone.

“Did I mention how pretty you look?” Peter asked as he snapped another picture of you, complimenting you for the 5th, no 6th time tonight.

not that you’d been counting

You smiled, shaking your head. “No, I don’t think you have” You teased, earning that laugh that felt so painfully familiar in return.

“Hey, I have a question for you,” Peter started, still unsure about your previous conversation with Spiderman, even if you laid out all he’d need to know.

The christmas lights and hanging snowflakes around the room suddenly became incredibly interesting to you as you nodded, avoiding all hints of eye contact possible, and silently thanking anyone who was listening in prayer as instead of looking at you, he started photographing other students and teachers dancing around the room to the Christmas music playing.

Peter bit the inside of his cheek as he thought out his next few words, trying to not talk himself out of it. Distracting himself by taking photos of his classmates, he finally spoke.

“Do you prefer Pepsi or Coke?”

coward

You laughed at the question, so it must’ve counted for something, right?

Or that’s at least what he had hoped as he smiled and listened to your unnecessary rant of an answer.

You shoved your hands into the pockets of Peter’s jacket that you were currently wearing at his insistence, of course, not being able to help yourself as you did a quick scan of the sky as Peter walked you home.

He didn’t need instructions on how to get there anymore.

“Lookin' for something?” He asked, nudging you lightly.

Why did he always notice you looking for Spiderman?

“Someone, actually” You smiled at him, turning your gaze to your shoes, counting the cracks under your feet.

“Oh,” play it cool, Peter. “Spiderman?” Was that too obvious?

You shrugged, looking at Peter with your head tilted.

“Didn’t know you were a fan” He continued, his turn now to count the cracks.

“Yeah, something like that” you chuckled to yourself, shaking your head before looking at Peter, watching as he smiled softly at the concrete beneath his feet.

“I had a really great time tonight, Peter” You sighed, nudging him slightly once your apartment complex came into view, even if you still had 3 more minutes of walking.

You really enjoyed your walks home with Peter. Of course, you counted how long the walks were.

“Me too” he nudged back, stopping for a moment and getting your attention by the feeling of his scarf getting tossed around your shoulders, you stopped walking now, allowing him to properly adjust the soft fabric around your neck making it two items of his you were now wearing.

“Can’t have you catching a cold for the holidays” Peter whispered, soft eyes moving to look into yours upon realizing how close you were. “Course not” you agreed in the same tone.

The moment lasted for however much time wasn’t enough, ending with the sound of police sirens, you both turned at the sound, watching as 2, 3, 4 cop cars rushed past you both.

“Think I know where Spidey’s been” You mumble to yourself, though not missing the quiet laugh from Peter as he threw his arm around your shoulder, urging you to keep walking, seeming to be sort of rushing now.

You didn’t question it, it was getting late and you knew he didn’t like leaving May alone too late into the night, it makes her worry would be all he told you anyway, so why pry?

You also had quickly decided to try and forget about the ruined moment, content in feeling as he wrapped his arms around your waist, forcing your arms around his neck in the hug you had loved so much and a quiet “I’ll see you in two weeks” mumbled into the shoulder of his your jacket.

Shit, winter break, you almost forgot about that

“Merry Christmas, Peter” You mumbled back, holding your breath as he pulled away and not letting it go til after you opened the door to the lobby.

“Hey,” his voice made you turn around, tilting your head like a silent question mark.

“Merry Christmas, Sweetheart”

The words replay in your head even still as you lie in your bed, waiting for your dreams to overtake you. How he looked at you and how he spoke the words so softly, despite having heard him call you Sweetheart a dozen times by now, you couldn’t get over it.

That seemed to mix with the anxiety you were feeling about whatever was going on with those policemen tonight, why was he not following? Was he already there? Is it about what’s had him so occupied the last few weeks?

The unanswered questions of worry and giddy feelings of adoration put you in a seemingly never-ending loop of anxiety that you were completely unable to come out no matter how hard-

Thump thump thump

You sat up, almost giving yourself whiplash with how you turned to look at your window.

Thump thump

They were weaker that time, uh oh.

#tasm!peter parker x reader #tasm!peter x you #tasm!peter x reader #tasm peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker #peter parker x you #peter parker fanfiction #the amazing spiderman x reader #spiderman x reader #spiderman imagines

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ferrarrigirl · 5 months

Note

i beg for some lando x reader where he is a girl dad!!!!!!! love ur work 🫶

Full House

Pairing: dad!Lando x mom!reader

Summary: Lando and reader with their 4 daughters, there’s always drama in the Norris household. Slight angst, mostly fluff.

A/N: Im so sorry this took forever to write but I hope you like it xx

You had just retired to your room after finally finishing up the last of your emails for today. Trying to sneak in a quick nap before the rest of the family gets home. Maybe you should’ve checked the time because just as you got comfortable, the front door unlocks downstairs, followed by Layla’s loud voice, “You just always have to take everything I want. Couldn’t this be the one thing you left for me?”

You immediately jumped out of bed heading for the stairs. As your racing down the steps, you hear the younger of the twins, Ava, retaliate, “I didn’t mean to Lay, it’s not my fault.”

Both girls turn to face you seeing you’ve reached the bottom step. “What is going on girls?” You question, deeply concerned with the anger laced in both their voices.

Layla’s first to reply, “Ask her Mom, ask her why she had to go after the one guy I liked.”

“I didn’t go after him, I don’t chase anyone” Ava seethes through gritted teeth.

“Oh cut the shit, you love having every guy’s attention. You should’ve left Jake alone!”

“Layla, stop,” you scold, noticing Ava’s patience is growing thin. That never ended well. Similar to her dad, it took a lot for her to get angry, but if she did, it wasn’t pretty.

“No Mom let her say what she has to. She’s just mad no one wants her.”

“Ava! That is not how you speak to your sister,” you move to step between them. “Let’s take a break and talk about this when you’ve both calmed down,” you offer.

“Fine by me, I never want to speak to her again,” Layla glares at Ava, turns on her heel and heads up the stairs, slamming her bedroom door, hard. You move to step towards Ava, in attempts to comfort her but she slips under your arm. “Please don’t defend her mom,” Ava sighs and heads up to her room as well. It’ll be best to try and get through to them later you think, especially with Lan. They always seem to more receptive hearing it from him. You turn to your younger babies, the less of the trouble makers. “How was both of yours days? Better I hope?”

“Oh yea mum the best, but I wanna catch up on some reading before dinner, is that okay?” 11 year old Amelia pleads, looking up at you through her beautiful green eyes. How could you deny that. “Of course you can bub” you say, pulling your bookworm baby into a hug. “I’ll come get you when dinners ready,” she smiles, padding up the stairs to her room aswell.

“Now you, my sweets, come here.” You crouch down to your 7 year old, knowing she gets very anxious whenever her older sisters argue. As expected, immediately she’s in your arms, almost throwing you back with the impact. You pick Charlotte up and move upstairs, asking her about her day to try and distract her. You take her to Lando’s office and settle into his gaming chair with her on your lap. It was always your comfort room, something about the darkness mixed with the led lights soothed you. She fills you in on the few things she learned today, but mostly all the games they played, while she snuggles further into you. You hated that she got the anxiety trait from you, so anything you could do to help her out, you would. Lucky for you, your voice worked well to relax her so you spoke to her about your day and felt her ease up.

“I’m home,” you smile hearing the front door open and close, followed by heavy footsteps moving quickly up the stairs. Char jumps off your lap, running out and straight into Lando’s arms. “Daddyyyy” she exclaims, presssing a sloppy kiss to his cheek. Lando follows where she came from, leading him to you sitting in his gaming chair. He furrows his brows, notificing your smile doesn’t reach your eyes.

“Are you okay babe?”

“Yea-“

“Lay and A had a big fight and they yelled and screamed at each other,” Char quickly spills.

“Oh sorry mummy,” she pouts seeing your gaze shift towards her. “Wanted to tell daddy so he can fix it.”

“That’s okay baby,” you stand, placing a kiss to her head. “Do you wanna go play with Amelia while me and daddy talk? We’ll grab to help cook dinner.”

Halfway through your sentence, she’s already jumping out of Lando’s arms and rushing out the door. “I’ll take that as a yes” you giggle while Lando engulfs you in his arms.

“Talk to me love” he mumbles against the skin of your neck, making sure to leave a few pecks. He stays like that, rocking you side to side as you unveil the events that led you here. It’s a lot to digest. And it’s never fun knowing your girls are fighting, especially if it’s over a boy, but you both know you need to get to the bottom of what happened.

“Hey” he pulls back and cups your face with a hand on each cheek. “They’re young, they’re siblings. They’re gonna fight. We can talk them both out of it.”

You were used to the twins fighting. They always bicker, but never like this. “I know Lan but you should’ve seen how they spoke to each other. Poor Char was frightened too.”

He pulls you back in for another hug, “Love, you know how sassy they can be. I’m sure once we speak to them, they’ll get over it just as quick.” he reassures rubbing you up and down your back.

“Fine but your talking to Layla,” you mumble into his chest.

You feel his chest rumble with laughter under your head. “Lucky me.” Pulling back he places a soft sweet kiss to your lips, grabs your hand pulling you in the direction of the twins rooms.

He goes first, knocking on Layla’s door. “Mom not now.”

“Not Mom, its Dad.”

Lando rolls his eyes hearing his eldest groan. He can imagine her dragging her feet towards the door. She opens the door the tiniest bit and rushes back into her bed, tucking herself into her multiple blankets. “I still don’t wanna talk. I’m only letting you in to know if you beat Uncle Los today.” Layla loved going to golf with her dad, the only one of the family that seemed to enjoy it, especially when her and Carlos would team up against Lando.

“Well I don’t want to talk about golf so I guess you won’t know.”

“Ughh stop being annoying dad,” she says, voice now muffled as she turns shoving her face into the pillow.

“Hey if you tell me, I’ll tell you.”

A moment of silence passes, he knows she wants to talk about it. Heck if with anyone it would be with him. She contemplates it, but shakes her head. “It’s embarrassing.”

‘Lay, there’s nothing you need to be embarrassed about with me. You can tell me anything.” Lando moves closer to sit by her, rubs her back up and down. “i won’t force you to talk, but I need you to know this is what me and your mom are here for. No judgement with us, ever.”

He stays like that, comforting Layla for a bit, and once he realizes she isn’t ready to talk yet, he moves to get up. But immediately she senses him leaving and turns back around. She looks up to her dad with tears flooding her eyes, “No one likes me dad.”

That’s all it took, and the tears started flowing. She moved into his arms and surely the silent cries turned into louder sobs. In the moment, Lando didn’t even know what to say. He felt like he did when the twins were younger and he’d always look to you to figure out why they were crying, but in this moment he knew it was all him. He began with hugging her back and reminding her she needs to stop crying or she won’t be able to breathe. She slowly pulled back and began explaining seeing the concerned look on her dad’s face.

“Jake is the only guy I’ve ever liked. And I thought he liked me back too.”

“Okay..” Lando swallows, not expecting her to be so blunt about boys, but he urges her to continue anyway.

“We got along really well, he was really nice and all of my friends even told me they knew he liked me. And then, today at school, infront of all us, he asked Ava out.”

“I see, what did Ava say?”

“She said no, obvs. But still. She gets every guy and she doesn’t even have to try. If Jake can’t even like me now, when we’ve been getting on for so much longer, then no one is ever going to like me.”

Lando’s starting to get it now. Being a twin in highschool surely can’t be easy. Especially when these years can have a great effect on your self esteem.

“Baby, you can not put your self worth into the hands of a boy. You are so beautiful inside and out, smart, and hilarious.” “And amazing at golf,” he emphasizes to bring a small smile to her face

“You are going to find someone that loves you for you, but that isn’t something you need to worry about yet. I know it’s hard seeing Ava have it different but it doesn’t make you any less better in any way.”

“It’s just not fair Dad.”

“I know bub, it might feel like that now but come next week, next month, you and no one else are going to remember this. And if that dumb boy can’t see everything amazing in my daughter, he isn’t someone I want for you and you shouldn’t want that for yourself either. I mean there will never be a boy good enough for my girls but this once isn’t even getting close.”

She lets out some more snotty giggles and reaches to hug Lando again. “Love you dad”

“ I love you more. Now, do you see how Ava is not at fault here?”

“Yeah I do. I guess in the heat of the moment it was easier to blame her.”

“I get that, but let’s try and have a breath before going at each other next time? You girls are lucky to have a built in best friend, never let a boy get in between you two.” Layla nods, feeling guilty about her behaviour earlier and realising she must’ve scared Charlotte, she asks “Is Char okay?”

“She is bub, don’t worry. Anything else you need?” Lando confirms, he didn’t want to impose and give her some alone time before dinner.

“No that’s it. Thank you Dad.”

“No problem sweets,” he reaches down placing a kiss to her head. “Go get up and shower, you’ve got snot everywhere,” he teases, moving to leave the room.

“Wait, so did you beat Los?”

“Nope, got absolutely destroyed.”

“Omg I have to text him,” she says breaking into a fit of laughter as Lando shakes his head and opens the door to head out. “Yeah yeah be down in 30 for dinner.”

He heads down the stairs, joining you in the kitchen. “How’d it go?” You inquire as he wraps his arms around your waist from behind and rests his head on your shoulder. “Good, she was just feeling a little insecure.”

“Ava was the same,” you inform. “She was upset Layla thought she would do it to her on purpose, but I told her she knew it wasn’t but was acting in the heat of the moment.”

“Mhmm,” Lando mumbles, placing a few kisses to your neck, “just glad we got through to them.” You both settle into each others warmth when you hear giggles filling the house. All 4 girls come tumbling down the stairs heading straight for you. Amelia and Ava immediately cling to Lando having not seen him today. They pull him away, fillling him in on their day, while Layla comes to you holding Charlotte in her arms.

“I’m sorry mum,” she pouts. You can see the guilt eating away at her, she was always a softie at heart.

“That’s okay my love, how are you feeling now?” You wrap your arms around the 2 girls, trying to provide her some reassurance.

“Much better, i apologized to Ava too. But I’m really sorry for causing a ruckus at home.”

“I’m proud of you baby. Do not let anyone get in your head and make you forget how special you are, especially not a boy.” You press a big kiss to her cheek, “I love you sweets.”

Before Layla can reply, Char is jumping out of her arms and into yours, “Me tooo mummy.” You giggle, reaching to grab her and move to the couch to join the rest of your family. You all cuddle under a large blanket and decide pizza and movies is how you’ll spend the rest of the night.

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 #f1 fanfic #formula 1 #lando x reader #lando norris #ln4 #ln4 x reader #ln4 imagine #dad!lando norris #lando imagine

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