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#the one time i insist on something and snap just a little bit they fell apart
kansasjustgotgayer · 2 months
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I would really love if next weekend i actually get to have both days to myself to rest rather than helping my sibling for half of the dang day dealing with their various neuroses and coddling their emotions.
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daytaker · 5 months
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The Gang React to You Falling Asleep on Them
Lucifer
*deep sigh that speaks volumes to how difficult it is for this man to get any sleep, and here you are, conked out on his shoulder...*
If you don't wake up within a few minutes, he'll have no choice but to move. He is not the sort to be so sentimental that he can't bear the thought of disturbing your precious sleeping face. Of course, he won't be an asshole about it; he'll be careful and try not to wake you up. He might even drape his jacket over you for your nap.
But only if he doesn't need it.
Mammon
"Hey, my arm's gettin' a little stiff, can I just-- ...ah."
Oh. Ah. Alright. Cool. This is happening. Hmm. Damn. Not super comfortable, and it's kinda inconvenient to be trapped here, but, pshh, what's he supposed to do, wake up a sleeping human? He's heard that can lead to...cardiac arrest, or something. He ain't gonna murder you just to move a little sooner.
You did not just start snuggling him in your sleep. Did Mammon score today or did he score today? Too bad his arm's starting to fall asleep, but, well, nothin' in life is free.
Leviathan
"What...? WHAAAAAAT?" (But only in his brain. He doesn't want to wake you up. Mammon says that can lead to cardiac arrest in humans.)
He's pretty sure he's the one who's going to keel over from heart problems at this rate. He hadn't even realized you were getting sleepy. Are you bored watching him tackle this single-player old school RPG? Did you hate it all this time and you never even mentioned it?! Why is your face so close?! Do you not have any idea the kind of mental torture you're putting him through right now?!
Deep breaths, Levi. Deep breaths. This happens in anime all the time. It's...usually a good thing! It means that the main character and their love interest are tripping all the right flags, and... and how long is this scene going to last? Those scenes almost always end with the two still on the couch, then they skip to the next day or something. How long is he going to have to just sit here... suffering...?
After about ten minutes, he's reached his limit and he gently shakes you awake. He is so embarrassed that he insists you go to bed now, and he will not take no for an answer. Good night. Goodbye. *door slams*
AAAAHHHHHHHHH.
Satan
"Hm? Have you been getting enough sleep...?"
Satan would be very pleased with the situation, though probably less intensely excited than Mammon. He'll make whatever small adjustment is necessary for his comfort, then settle in and read for as long as it takes you to wake up. He feels very warm and fuzzy. It's nice. Hopefully you do this more often. But he should really ask you about your sleep schedule. Levi must be forcing you to stay awake too often.
Asmodeus
"Aww, aren't you adorable?"
This is precious. He needs to document it. As soon as he realizes what's happening, he'll carefully pull out his D.D.D., making sure not to wake you up, and start snapping pics. A few of you, a few dozen selfies with you, a few with him pretending to be asleep too, and then a perfect shot of him kissing your forehead. Grammable as fuck.
Er... is that drool he can see in one of those photos? ...You're going to have to wake up. You can't just drool on his brand-name jacket.
Beelzebub
"Oh."
He's used to people falling asleep on him, so this doesn't really throw him for much of a loop. However, he's a bit more careful of waking you up. He knows that if he wakes Belphie, he'll just fall back asleep within a few seconds, but you're not quite so adaptable. So he'll do his best to stay quiet and not move much.
But no matter how hard he tries, he's never going to be able to turn off his stomach. You'll probably wake up with a start as his stomach roars at you about twenty inches from your face.
Belphegor
"...zzzz..."
Who are we kidding, we all know he was asleep first. Probably, he's the reason you fell asleep so easily. He's soft and warm, perfect for drifting off to dreamland...
Diavolo
"Very bold! You really are astonishingly brave."
It's not every day someone has the stones to fall asleep in his presence, let alone fall asleep and use him as some sort of glorified pillow. What a nice change of pace.
He'll continue doing whatever it is he was doing before, but he is a busy demon, running the Devildom and all. He'll slowly and carefully extricate himself when it's time to move, then have Barbatos bring you a blanket and prepare some tea for when you wake up.
Barbatos
"Humans are awfully needy creatures, aren't they."
He can't help but chuckle. You just pass out during the middle of the day? Then again, it's possible you're probably not entirely well. He'll have to disturb the young master to ask what sort of accommodations to make for you. Of course, he's sure Diavolo won't mind. But it's irresponsible to let yourself drift off like this in the castle of the king of the demons, isn't it? This isn't a resort.
Sleep well, human.
Solomon
"You're just looking cute on purpose now, aren't you?"
Oh well! Looks like he's stuck here for now. Too bad. He'll smile, put an arm around you, kick his feet up, and settle in for the long haul. Hopefully you're able to get a good, solid nap in.
Most likely, you both will. He'll pass out too within ten minutes, give or take.
Simeon
"Oh- shh. There, there."
Well, if you aren't adorable... You must be so tired. He's glad you feel so at ease with him that you let yourself fall asleep, and you certainly look cute, but he's also a little concerned that you're this tired. He'll patiently wait for you to wake up. Then he'll make you some tea and gently remind you to take better care of your health.
Luke
"Eh...?! Hey! ...WAKE UP!"
How tired are you?! You need to get better sleep! Sheesh, you need to be more careful too. You almost crushed him.
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saetoru · 8 months
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ SORCERY SCHEMES — GETO SUGURU.
contents. non sorcery au!, husband! suguru, gn! reader, nanako and mimiko are still your kids, silly lil shenanigans of cult leader! suguru being in your dreams
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suguru has been the source of your anger for lots of things over the years. some fair, others not so much.
that one important date he accidentally missed because he got caught up at work. that time you vented and he tried to tell you to toughen up instead of picking your side. that time he accidentally shrunk your favorite sweater in the laundry. that time he fell asleep while you were talking late at night (he had insisted he was tired, in his defense—you were just too stubborn to let him sleep.)
marriage has its ups and downs, but suguru likes to think you’re a strong couple—but this? this is the most outrageously ridiculous reason to be mad at him—he’s simply at a loss.
“so let me get this straight,” he starts slowly, as if trying to comprehend something far too complex for his simple mind, “you’re mad at me because i had some superpowers in your dream—”
“it was sorcery,” you hiss, “were you even listening?”
“right. sorry. i was…a sorcerer,” he apologizes. he looks at you like you’re insane—your eye twitches just a little. “and then suddenly i went crazy in the head and killed a village and adopted nanako and mimiko and…left. to basically cleanse an entire demographic. is that right?”
“you had a cult too.”
“and the cult,” he nods slowly, “can’t forget the cult.”
“yeah,” you glower—if looks could kill, suguru thinks he might have never been born at all. this is a new one, he has to admit. “and it was really fucking rude. you left. and you took the kids before i could even meet them.”
“okay,” he says tiredly, rubbing his forehead, “baby, i don’t know if you realize this, but i don’t…i can’t perform sorcery. and i don’t have a cult i can lead either. i’m just a literature teacher—”
“i know what you are,” you snap, shoving away the hand he tries to reach at you with, “you’re a selfish psychopath who committed heinous crimes and left me single and alone as you led a group of people to follow your crazy ideas. don’t even think about touching me—”
“so do you want me to apologize?” he sighs, “because i’m sorry—”
“what if i left you? huh? and just started killing everyone who has blue eyes? what then? i’ll take the kids this time and leave you alone, see how you like it.”
“well, at least that gets rid of satoru,” he mutters quietly. and then he grins—chuckles a soft little laugh that makes the edges of your lips curl just a bit. “you’re crazy,” he snorts, shaking his head. and then— “but i love you. c’mere.”
you don’t fight the hand the reaches towards you this time, letting his arm curl around your waist and pull you into his side. that’s a good sign, he thinks, so he tests the waters and plants a kiss to your head. you melt just a little.
“i’m still mad at you,” you mumble.
“yeah, i figured,” he grins, “anything i can do to erase my sins as a mass murderer?”
“you can make breakfast,” you hum, leaning closer as you rub circles into his chest, “and wash the dishes.”
“easy enough,” he nods, pulling a scowl from you.
“you’re not off the hook yet,” you click your teeth.
“of course,” he nods in agreement, “i still have to atone for my radical actions. i’ll start by resurrecting all the people i killed. that should do it, right?”
“suguru, be serious,” you huff, “i was very sad, okay?”
“did you miss me?” he wriggles his brows—you look at him incredulously before slapping his chest. he chuckles a little too long for your liking.
“what a stupid question,” you pinch your nose, “so if i became delusional and ran off to erase a population, you wouldn’t be upset with me?”
“actually, i’d follow you because i love you,” he shrugs, pinching your nose lightly, “i’d be your cult’s second-in-command. obviously you just didn’t love me enough in your dream to do the same for me.”
“you didn’t invite me,” you pout through a glare, “what was i supposed to do? show up unwelcome?”
“well, nothing was stopping you. was i at least a strong sorcerer?” he asks in wonder.
you think for a moment before nodding. “yeah,” you say thoughtfully, “one of the strongest.”
“nice,” he grins—he seems a bit too pleased for something that happened in your dreams.
you decide to deal the harsh blow. “but not nearly as strong as satoru. you know he was the literally the strongest?”
“okay,” he scowls, “if you do kill blue-eyed people, start with him.”
you giggle, leaning up to kiss his jaw as he lets a soft grin pull over his features. he laughs with you—and suddenly, you’re both chuckling together uncontrollably.
it’s a bit of a silly circumstance, but he kisses your forehead and means it when he says, “sorry i left you to kill people and led a cult and committed a bunch of crimes while i wiped out a whole group of people. i didn’t mean it.”
“you took the kids too,” you remind him.
“i don’t know what i was thinking,” he shakes his head, “those two are a handful. how was i managing being a single father with all that on my plate?”
“that’s why you shouldn’t have left me,” you point out.
“you’re right,” he agrees, “i’ll invite you if i ever snap and lose my sanity.”
“good. you’re forgiven. now, i want chocolate chip pancakes—and make coffee while you’re at it.”
“yeah, whatever,” he rolls his eyes. he kisses you though, a soft little peck over your lips as you hum into the kiss and cup his cheek, “you got it. whatever you want.”
“i want you,” you murmur, “unhinged sorcerer and all.”
he laughs at the craziness of it all—but he loves it anyway, loves you despite it all.
“and i want you too,” he grins, hopelessly in love, “if you’ll do me the honors and join my crazy sorcery schemes.”
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hi i’m tee and i had a dream that my rude ass sister stole my car and totaled it and now im very mad at her and i am not speaking to her until she apologizes. she refuses so im now double mad
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ktgoodmorning · 2 months
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The Wall
Mapi Leon x Teen!Reader
Inspired by the song "The Wall" by GroupLove
“Just sitting on a wall, always trying to do it all” “Really wanna get away, to where I couldn’t say” “Yeah we got lucky, fell into place” “We found some friends, some stayed some passed away”
A/N: The timeline is a little funky, I know Leila didn't leave in the middle of the season but we're gonna pretend for the sake of the story. Even though I posted the lyric, nobody dies, just overall angsty, more parts to come.
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“You ready to go, amiga?” Mapi shouted across the house at you even though she already knew the answer. You were always ready long before she or Ingrid ever were. It wasn’t unusual for you to be up extra early to start your day with a run or at the very least, a long walk. At only 19, you hadn’t been playing with the senior team long and wanted to do everything you possibly could to prove yourself, even if it meant getting up at four in the morning. 
When you’d been called up to the senior team, Mapi and Ingrid had insisted that you move into their spare room to help you get adjusted until you settled in better. Originally, they had pitched the idea in order to make sure you were taking care of yourself and doing everything you needed to to be successful with the team. They had no idea how prepared you already were. Still, many of the older girls had taken you under their wing, Mapi more than anyone. She was highly protective of you and was always making sure you were doing okay, even if you didn’t normally need it. They rarely had to do much, as you were one of the hardest working members of the team. 
Some might call you a perfectionist, type A, or maybe a bit obsessive, but what you were doing was working. You would do anything it took to be the best footballer you could possibly be. Getting up early was just the start. You were always eating as healthy as possible with very few cheat days. You had done plenty of research on nutrition and everything you needed to eat (and not eat) to perform at your best so you always stuck to that. You often watched film from each game at least two to three times beyond what the team watched in training. That was your favorite way to improve yourself when your body really needed a break from training. It wasn’t a lot but it was everything you needed. Everything you needed to be enough. 
You grabbed your bag and joined Mapi and Ingrid in heading to the car to go to training. Ingrid sat down in the driver’s seat while Mapi plugged in her phone to play some music that you didn’t even recognize. As you sat in the backseat, you were slightly lost in thought, thinking of what you needed to work on today. Speed and endurance were always something you tried to improve but maybe it was more important today to focus on your passing accuracy but also you needed to work on your shooting or maybe-
“Hey did you hear me?” Your thoughts were interrupted as Ingrid snapped you back into the real world. 
“Hmm? Sorry.” You mumbled as you gathered your thoughts back to focus on the two girls in front of you. “What’d you say?”
“Leila said you were going with her after training? Is that right?” Of course you were forgetting something- your dinner plans with Leila. You sighed gently, trying to straighten out your schedule in your head. 
“Oh, umm, yeah. We wanted to go to this new restaurant. I guess I forgot.” Because she was sitting in front of you, you missed the way Ingrid’s brow furrowed at the lack of enthusiasm in your response. Leila had become like a fun older sister to you. The two of you got dinner together at least once a week and were typically causing some sort of trouble during training. She kept you from taking yourself too seriously, worried that if you went unchecked you’d spiral under the amount of pressure you placed on yourself. Like many of the older girls, she had taken it upon herself to protect you. It was different with Leila because she treated you as more of an equal rather than a child. Because of this, everyone knew how much you cherished your time with her. 
Mapi took the opportunity to lightly tease you for your weird behavior, “don’t get too excited there, chica.” She turned to look at you, trying to gauge your reaction to her comment. 
It didn’t offend you, although you still didn’t laugh. You just weren’t really bothered by the comment at all. “Sorry, just thinking about other stuff.” 
The older two girls had let it go, changing the subject as you got closer to the training grounds. You missed the look of nervousness shared between the two of them as you got lost in your thoughts once again. 
~
You remained focused all throughout training, focusing on the things you needed to improve- speed, endurance, strength, passing, shooting, accuracy- the list in your head was miles long. Anytime the other girls would joke around, they knew you typically needed some coaxing to join in. However anytime one of your closer friends would get you in on it, that’s usually all it took. Leila was your weak spot, sometimes Pina too. They were always able to break down your walls of focus and seriousness and allow yourself to have a little fun. If it weren’t for them (and the rest of your team’s antics), everyone knew you’d sink into your perfectionism even further. 
As you walked off the field at the end of the session, it was Pina that spoke to you first. “Hey, some of us are going out tomorrow night, you’re in right?”
Your face contorted with uncertainty, torn between the idea of having fun with your friends for a night and knowing you could use the sleep to prepare for Sunday's match. 
Suddenly, an arm wrapped around your shoulders and you instantly recognized it as Leila’s, “Si, she’ll be there. Even if I have to drag her out myself.” 
Well there was your answer. You gave the two girls a shrug, knowing you’d enjoy the time out with them. A little relaxation couldn’t hurt, right? You deserved it after how hard you had been working so far this season. And just because you went out didn’t mean you had to drink yourself into oblivion. You’d still be plenty prepared for the next match. As you all got ready to leave, Claudia filled you in on the plans, making you look forward to the night even more. 
There was a newfound lightness in your step as you followed Leila to her car and went to the restaurant for dinner. You were excited for tomorrow night with everyone. It had been awhile since you’d let your guard down and just had fun for a night so you knew it’d be good for you. You knew how much you needed it and were thankful your friends were able to give you the little push you needed to agree. You were thankful for your friends until you got to dinner with Leila and learned the true reasons behind the night out. 
You were sitting across from her, in the corner of the small restaurant when she broke the news to you- she’d be transferring to Manchester. The party tomorrow night was to have one last celebration together before she left. Instantly your chest tightened. She continued talking, explaining why it was a good decision and that she’d always be there to support you no matter how far away she was. However none of this registered to you. The second she said the words, you quit processing anything else. 
Manchester? Why Manchester? How could she leave Barcelona? How could she leave you? She always said you were like family but you don’t just leave your family behind. Was Barcelona not good enough for her anymore? Or worse yet, did she not think she was good enough for Barcelona? If that was the case, how could you ever be good enough for Barca? Or for Leila for that matter? If you were a good enough “sister” to her, she would have no reason to want to leave, to go so far away. 
Leila managed to pull you out of your thoughts when she reached across the table to hold your hand. “Hey, take a breath, it’s okay. You can still call me whenever you need anything, I’ll still come visit. You’ll be okay, I promise.” 
She squeezed your hand tightly, trying to get you to meet her eyes, but you just couldn’t do it. You knew she had talked about not renewing her contract but you clearly had been too naive to think it could actually happen. Suddenly it hit you that other people must have already known. If Claudia had already had the time to plan a party, when did she find out about this? Had you been the last to find out?
“(y/n),” she squeezed your hand again, tighter this time, getting concerned at how you still had yet to respond. 
Suddenly you were snapped back into reality, shaking your head quickly, “I’ve gotta go, I’m sorry.” Leila could hardly hear you as you mumbled, barely coherent. Frantically, you had pushed away from the table and made your way towards the door. You were almost running as you finally made it outside. 
The cool evening air hit you hard. It helped you steady your breathing slightly, feeling less choked by the air of the restaurant. You didn’t notice how much your hands were shaking until you grabbed your phone to call Mapi, hoping she could pick you up. 
In the time it took you to unlock your phone and pull up her contact, Leila appeared next to you. “Don’t be ridiculous, chiquita. I will drive you, come on.” She grabbed your hand before you had the chance to argue and led you to her car. Her silence was unusual but you hardly noticed, consumed by your thoughts. 
Her heart broke when she saw your reaction. Obviously Leila knew you’d be upset but she couldn’t have imagined you’d take it this hard. The Spaniard was consumed with guilt as she tried her best to focus on the road ahead. It had crossed her mind that maybe she should have told you sooner but she wanted to make sure it was completely finalized first. You’d have other people that could step into her role when she was gone, people that would make sure you’d be taken care of. And like she said, she’d still be just a phone call away. Hopefully you just needed a night to let the shock wear off so you could both enjoy your time together before she had to leave. 
You hardly realized that you had arrived in front of Mapi and Ingrid’s, the entire care ride being completely silent until now. “Chiquita, can we please talk?” She was still met with complete silence from you, taking it as an invitation to continue on. “Listen, I’m sorry. I should have talked to you sooner but I just-”
“It’s fine.” you shrugged her off, her face full of confusion.
“But, I should’ve-” 
“Leila, it’s fine. I’m fine. I’ve got to go.” 
“But (y/n), I-” and you were gone. Leila let out an exasperated sigh when you slammed the car door shut, mid sentence. So much for talking to you. The older woman texted Mapi, hoping she’d be able to talk to you in a way that was more successful than what had just happened. 
Mapi had just read Leila’s message when you trudged through the front door. She decided not to let you know what Leila had told her, trying to see how much you’d be willing to share on your own. Committing to her plan, she greeted you, just as chipper as always, “Hola, Amiga! How was Leila?” 
You responded with a shrug, doing your best to push your feelings down. If you just pushed them away, you’d be fine, right? “She was fine.” Mapi and Ingrid shared a look of concern at you making a beeline for your room. Once you made it to your room, then you could handle whatever you were feeling, but you weren’t about to do that in front of them. 
Your plan would’ve worked out if it weren’t for Ingrid making one last attempt to get you to talk, “Hey, did you want to join us for a movie night?” You were so close, your door right in front of you. You pressed your forehead against the door, taking a strangled deep breath in an attempt to keep your emotions at bay. “(y/n)?” They shared another glance, concerned by your reaction. 
Almost in slow motion, you turned silently to face the pair. “Did you know?” You choked over your words. You didn’t plan on talking about it tonight. You didn’t know how to face this news but you had to know the answer. Did Leila really tell everyone but you? The silence from Mapi told you everything you needed to know. All you could do was turn and take refuge in your bedroom. 
As soon as the door shut, you pressed your back against it and slid down until you met the ground. Knowing you well, Mapi knew you’d want some time to handle it yourself. You were fiercely independent, always acting much older than you were. Sometimes Mapi had to remind others how young you were, making sure nobody went too hard on you. At times she had to remind you of that as well. Remind you that you were still learning, still figuring out life. Mapi admired your maturity but was also terrified that it would end up breaking you. She knew if she tried to follow you know, you’d push her out even further and want to try to fix it yourself first. 
If only she could see you- sitting on the floor, tears rolling down your face as you choked down sobs. Your whole body shook, filled to the brim with emotions that you were too scared to let out. Your cries continued, much longer than ever before. 
            At some point during your crying, you had made your way into bed. The blankets and pillows provided you little comfort from the world inside your head. You didn’t even realize you had cuddled up with a sweatshirt of Leila’s. You borrowed it once when you were chilly and she let you keep it after she saw how much you loved it. It was instinctual for you to reach for it in times of stress so of course you hugged it tightly as you cried over the idea of her leaving you. Eventually, your cries seemed to tire you, succumbing to the exhaustion and falling into an uneasy sleep. 
~
When Mapi and Ingrid had finished their movie and you were still yet to emerge from your room, they knew they needed to check up on you. Mapi being the closest with you, always took it upon herself to play the role of mother when you needed it. She knocked on your door lightly, expecting some sort of response. When she was met with none, she pressed her ear against your door, hoping to hear something that’d give her an idea of how you we doing. With still no response, she gently pushed the door open. 
Upon seeing you, Mapi let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. You were curled up on your bed, fast asleep. She quietly sat down next to you, taking in your stressed appearance. Your face was still stained from tears, your eyes puffy and red. The older woman pushed some hair away from your face and ran her thumb over your eyebrows, hoping to relax the crease that remained on your face. It was clear to her who’s sweatshirt it was that you were gripping tightly. Mapi realized that while you were clearly sad, you must not be too angry at Leila herself. You wouldn’t be snuggled into her sweatshirt if you were mad at her. 
Mapi pulled up your blanket around your shoulders and pressed a light kiss to your forehead, assuming that you’d be feeling better in the morning. Of course it would be hard on you to see one of the closest people in your life move away but Mapi knew she and Ingrid would be with you to help, no matter what it took. You were a hard worker, resilient in nature. There was no reason for anyone to expect you to be anything but that. 
~
The next morning, Mapi was surprised when she entered the kitchen and didn’t see any trace of you. Sometimes you’d be up, cooking breakfast or at the very least, she’d see your empty mug in the sink which communicated that you’d had your coffee before going on a run. When she looked closer, she noticed your shoes and training bag already gone. Intending to call you, she opened her phone just to notice an unread message from you: 
Wanted to train early. Used my run to run here. See you later. 
Mapi’s face contorted as she read your message. How early had you left? The training grounds weren’t exactly close and would’ve taken a long time to run there. You were probably exhausted after being so upset the night before but maybe you wanted that run to clear your head and would talk with her afterwards.
~
Mapi and Ingrid arrived to training early, hoping to catch you before the rest of the team showed up. They stopped in the locking room first, thinking you’d be taking a break there and waiting for everyone else. When they didn’t find you there, they went on to the gym, the physio rooms, and the cafeteria- all of which remained empty. They hesitantly decided to check the pitch, confused as to why you’d be willing to spend more time in the sun on top of the time you’d spend outside for team training. 
Of course that’s where they found you- on the side of the pitch running sprints. You didn’t notice them, fully lost in your own head, running as fast as your body would take you. Your lungs were burning. At this point, you had no idea how long you’d been running, definitely over an hour. 
But you needed to. You had to get faster. You had to work harder. You had to prove that your spot on the team was not from getting lucky. You had worked for it. You were still working for it. 
Maybe if you ran fast enough, you could run away from all your problems. Run away from here. Run away from being lonely. Or stressed. Or tired. Or insecure. Or not good enough. You didn’t need anyone’s help- not Leila’s, not Ingrid, not Mapi. You had to do this yourself. You had to work harder. 
Mapi froze- watching you run yourself to exhaustion. She had never seen you like this. She’d seen you struggle but she’d never seen this. How would she even begin to help you? Clearly you couldn’t continue in this headspace but right now your friend was completely lost as to where to even begin with you. She sent Ingrid back inside, knowing her best chance at getting you to open up was if you were alone.
“Amiga! Come on! Come take a break before training starts!” Her shouting across the pitch at you was the first you were made aware of her presence. You shook your head at her and continued your sprints, not bothering to look her way. Your lungs didn’t have the capacity to use your voice at the moment. “Si, vamos! It was not a suggestion, you have to be done out here!” Once again, you ignored her. 
The older woman let out a heavy sigh, knowing she was going to have to stop you herself. She did just that as she lightly jogged towards you, intending on intercepting your path. You didn’t even notice what she was doing until you suddenly struggled to avoid running into her. You stumbled over your feet while she grabbed at your shoulders, hoping to help steady you. With how fast you had been going, it was difficult trying to stop your momentum so suddenly- something she should have known before trying to get in your way.  As soon as you had steadied, you were filled with anger and Mapi’s hands holding onto you tightly were not helping. The Zaragozan had no idea the amount of rage you were about to unleash onto her.
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bits-and-babs · 1 year
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𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐁𝐨𝐲 || 𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
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Previous Joel Fics: Mule [5.1K], Atta Girl [10.2K]
Summary: Ellie steals one of Bills magazines and you and Joel decide to see what the fuss is about.
Word Count: 3k
CW: Possible spoilers for episode 3, but I haven’t seen it! Based on the game. Heavily inspired by my bestie @foxilayde. A much lighter fic than the last few, a little bit of dry comedy, a little bit of playful Joel, but also a little bashful. Consumption of porn magazine, companions to lovers(?), p in v sex, fingering. Not proof read.
Tease: “Can feel you squeezin’ me. You gonna c** for me?”
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“N-Now Ellie, that ain’t for kids-“
“Woaaah!” Ellie had exclaimed, holding up the magazine rustling in her hand by her fingertips, her arm outstretched to take in the whole double page, “How- How the hell would he even walk around with that thing?!”
That had piqued your interest, eyes snapping up to the rearview mirror. Ellie was giggling, grinning from ear to ear as Joel turned in his seat to snatch the paper emblazoned with PLAYGIRL in red lettering from her hand.
“Would you jus’-“
“Hold your horses!” Ellie had insisted, “I wanna see what all the fuss is about!”
You hadn’t said anything at the time, chuckling at the way Joel’s cheeks flushed as Ellie asked all kinds of inappropriate questions. It was only when she discarded the pornographic magazine on the floor of the truck at the end of her smutty inquisition and fell asleep on the back seat upon Joel’s insistence that you made a note of where she had dropped it in the footwell.
Joel, having stopped to rest, slept in the front seat. His head tilted forwards; a gentle snore indicated he was out cold. With some courage and a little luck, you managed to grab the magazine without waking either of the sleeping duo and exit the truck.
Settling back in the bed of the pickup truck now and minding how uncomfortable it was to lean against the metal, you set a flashlight against the floor, open up the worn pages of the filthy magazine and chew nervously on your lower lip.
Of course, you weren’t to judge Bill for his sexuality. You never had before the outbreak, and there certainly wasn’t any point in being a bigot when the world had ended. In fact, thumbing through each crinkled page, you can’t help but thank Bill for his impressive collection of smutty male pages.
Each page had a collection of pictures and articles on everything from the ‘best sex positions for your zodiac signs’ to ‘average penis size of men around the world’. Clearly photographed in the 80s, based on the moustaches alone, each man photographed in a multitude of poses was muscular, slathered in oil, and donning the tiniest speedos while exhibiting the most prominent bulges beneath the aquablade fabric.
Ellie was right, how do they walk around with those things?
One, in particular, caught your eye; the sunset-orange speedos sat snug against the globes of his ass. The muscles in his back were defined, rippling with each of his poses. They were so clear beneath his golden tan you could probably label each picture like an anatomy textbook. He was pretty, and he made your face warm up.
“That your type?” A gruff, rumbling voice makes your body jolt in shock, inhaling a petrified gasp.
Joel had stepped out of the truck while you were distracted by the glutes and pectorals of the gorgeous male models, catching you off guard as he walked up behind you. He crossed his arms over his chest, biceps straining the sleeves of his denim shirt.
“Mhm- N-No! No, I was just reading about how standard American men have a less-than-average dick length,” you lie smoothly to cover up being caught red-handed, using some of the data you had read a few pages back. “What about yours? Is your moody personality compensating for something?”
“You ain’t funny,” he answers flatly, refusing to rise to your childish jabs as he climbs up into the truck bed with you. You catch a glimpse of the pistol buried in the waistband of his jeans, and your pulse races faster than it had with any of the round bums you’d seen in the pages.
“I’d say I’m hilarious. It’s the trauma of experiencing The End. It builds chara-cter,” you ramble, only stuttering when Joel manages to pry the glossy papers from your hands. His eyes scan over the page with a look of disinterest.
“But outta date, don’t you think?” He grumbles in that grumpy, man-child way he does that always has your eyes rolling into the back of your head. He’s pointing at the very 80s-style porn staches.
“Dunno, wouldn’t exactly call your facial hair ‘trendy’,” you scoff, watching him flick to the page titled in bold capitals: EXCITING SEX TRICKS TO TRY!
It’s ridiculous. You’re both grown adults, and it’s not as though the two of you were born during the outbreak. You’d both been through high school, and no doubt had sexual partners before Cordyceps took hold of the world. However, the prospect of talking sex with Joel Miller was mortifying.
You can feel the heat creeping up your throat as his eyes scan the sections of information with such indifference that you’re almost sure that he’s bored. Perhaps he was. It wasn’t as though you had caught him taking some time to himself during your great journey.
Joel is so lost in the writing that you allow yourself a moment to take in the slope of his nose, the slant of his cupid's bow framed by his greying moustache. Beneath his creased, frowning brow, his long lashes surround the deep brown of his eyes as they flick back and forth across the page. He was a handsome man. Was there no one waiting for him back in the Boston QZ? He’d never sa-
“The fuck is guddlin’?” Joel speaks out, shocking you from your thoughts with a start. You blink slowly, probably looking really fucking stupid as you choke on the words stuck in your throat when Joel looks up at you with a quirked brow.
“I-“
“I mean, I know guddlin’ in a fishin’ sense,” he interrupts, pointing to the page and prodding it with the tip of his finger, “Not in a-… Not in this sense, though.”
“Does-… Does it not explain?” You ask him quietly, your mouth suddenly very dry. Joel gives a light shrug, his eyes wandering over the page in search of a definition.
“Oh- Here,” he points out. He takes a second to read, his tanned skin tinged with pink as the words sink in. “Uhm… It’s- Well, it’s-“
Poor Joel looks as though he’s seconds away from an aneurysm attempting to explain the bizarre sex act without actually saying it. You scoff, snatching up the crinkled magazine and reading over the asterisk in small print at the bottom of the information page.
‘To insert one's finger(s) into a woman's vagina to pleasure her digitally while simultaneously having penile-vaginal intercourse with her.’
You pause, your lips parting as you look at Joel with a weak laugh. He’s rubbing at the back of his neck, eyes cast somewhere on the horizon in an attempt to avoid your own. He’s as embarrassed as you are, it seems, clearing his throat with a weak chuckle.
“Well,” he mumbled, eyes flicking to the magazine, “Must’a been good for it to end up in that.”
You nod slowly, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you glance down at the black and white print that appears to all blur together in embarrassment. “Mhm.”
You can feel your pulse between your thighs, your skin tingling beneath what you assume is Joel’s gaze. It’s crude, utterly filthy, but you can imagine the stretch, the feeling of his weapon-calloused fingertips coaxing your g-spot as he slowly sinks into you.
Slowly, with trembling hands, you close the magazine with a nervous laugh, discarding it with a half-hearted toss over the edge of the truck bed and onto the roadside. “Stupid shit anyway…”
Your aimless comment is met with silence, and you’re far too humiliated to face the notion of looking at Joel. You imagine he thinks you’re insane, having caught you reading and enjoying this filth.
“… Take it you ain’t tried that before?” Joel’s gruff voice cuts through the sound of the crickets in the surrounding grass, and you can’t help but laugh, simply shaking your head and avoiding his gaze.
A delicate brush of skin against your ankle sparks something raw up your spine. You look at it quickly, seeing Joel’s fingertips tracing the rough circumference of the joint beneath them. Your skin prickles pleasantly, and you look up at your partner- your smuggling partner- through your lashes.
His expression is firm, but his eyes betray his outward calm display. They’re flickering between your lips and eyes, his exhale slow as he attempts to force out some words he appears afraid to put out into the atmosphere.
“Do you… Do you wanna try it?”
It’s haphazard, delivered clumsily, and so utterly unlike Joel. You can see the cringe in his expression when the sentence settles in the air, and your heart lurches when you see he’s sincere. That he wants you and that he’s letting you know after years of hiding it from you.
God, you don’t even give him another second to doubt himself. You’re scrambling into his lap, straddling it and pressing your mouth to his in a kiss that hurts more than it pleases, his teeth scraping your lower lip and your tongue tracing his own.
You can feel it through the thin, worn denim of his jeans, the jump of his cock when you settle your crotch down against the seam. His hands are vicious, grasping handfuls of your thighs, your ass, your hips. He could bruise the shape of his fingerprints into you, and you’d thank him, would beg him to put you through the pain again to brand you as his.
He groans out your name into your mouth, but it sounds more like a growl rattling in his chest. You’re fumbling in the low lighting with his belt buckle, the clinking of the clasp bringing you relief when you free Joel’s hips from their leather confines. It’s almost frantic, the pace you set as you try and fail, try and fail before you successfully pop the button of his jeans and yank them over his hips. There’s not enough time to rid him of them completely, so Joel settles with the waistband resting just above his knees.
“C’mere,” Joel husks, his lips brushing yours as he speaks and forces your cargo pants over your hips without even bothering to let down the zip. It hurts a little, smarts, but it sparks something desperate in you when you realise it’s pulled down your underwear too, leaving you exposed to his gropes.
One hand grasps the globe of your asscheek, giving a brutally harsh squeeze. The other sinks between your thighs. Joel’s groan of delight when he finds the insides of your thighs soaked causes your cunt to throb before he’s even touched it.
"Is that all me?" He asks you, his voice dipping to a deep, spine-shuddering hum. He sweeps the calloused pad of his index fingertip up the inside of your thigh and through your pussy lips. You can hear the wetness there when he notches against your clit, when he sinks the very tip of his fingers into your entrance. "That all me, or did you like the pornstache more than I realised?"
You usually would scoff in Joel's face, tell him to stop being so ridiculous and self-absorbed, but he's slowly circling your frayed bundle of nerves with his thumb, and your jaw is slack. You can't even think of a witty retort, just grasping feebly at the collar of his denim shirt.
"I'm gonna take what I want from that lack of response," he fills the silence for you, an infuriating smirk settling on his lips as he sinks his fingers inside of you.
The lack of resistance and eagerness from your cunt catches you both off guard, Joel groaning in delight as you take the length of his digits so easily. "Fuck~”
You whimper out Joel’s name, thighs trembling on either side of his lap as he coaxes his fingers towards him inside of you and wasting no time in finding the spot that would bring tears to your eyes.
“Ah,” he breathes, a smirk playing on his lips when he sees your torso crumple inwards as his touch brushes something electric inside you. “Ah- that’s it, ain’t it?”
It’s pathetic. You want to answer him, even sob out wordlessly as the wave of pleasure crashes through you at the delicate touch, but your words are stalled in your throat as Joel circles that sensitive wall inside you with his nimble fingers.
“C’mere,” he growls, seeing your expression contorted desperately and deciding he can’t wait much longer. One hand is still busy with building your orgasm, and his other clumsily pulls down his boxers and exposes his ruddy length.
Joel gives you barely a moment to absorb what it is you see, managing to process the pink tinge to the velvet skin of his cockhead and the smear of precum that glistens under the low lighting before he’s hoisting you over him, knees on either side of his hips.
It’s filthy and disgusting and raw, the way he uses his free hand to sweep his cock across your clit. It sparks something dangerous deep inside your abdomen, another wave of increasingly unmanageable bliss that wraps around your spinal cord and constricts your lungs. You barely choke out his name, your fist punching his shoulder as if to say, ‘stop teasing!’ before Joel sinks into your wet heat with a broken rasp of your name.
Tight. Everything is coiled up so tightly inside you as the width of Joel’s cock-head pushes past your entrance, your walls swallowing him and squeezing him as he sinks in slowly. Your fingernails are digging into his shoulders through his denim shirt, tears of bliss welling in your eyes as he fills you completely. All the while he continues to circle and poke and prod at your g-spot, simultaneously building up your orgasm and wrecking you.
“That’s it,” he husks, breathless as he helps you settle down to the hilt of his dick. He’s nudging your cervix, and you feel so impossibly full that your body is trembling around him, pushed to its absolute limit as your tears stream down your cheeks. They drip from your chin, leaving deeper wet stains across the faded blue of his shirt.
Then he’s shoving his hips upwards and into you, and it’s like you can’t hold onto him tight enough. You’re scrabbling for some kind of grip that can brace you against the simultaneous stimulation of his thrusts and his fingers circling something mind-numbingly raw inside you. The rusty parts of the van creak beneath the motion, and between your slurred curses and weak cries of his name, you’re trying to warn him to be quiet, not to wake Ellie.
You can barely manage to coax him on, eyes rolling back and forehead falling forward onto his shoulder as you give in entirely to the creeping orgasm that picks up your spine.
“C-Can feel you,” Joel stumbles over his own words and laughs, his cock twitching inside you as he continues to drag in and out of your abused pussy, “Can feel you squeezin’ me. You gonna cum for me?”
You want to slap him. Want to make him walk to Pittsburgh with this cocky attitude, this cavalier facade that is so unlike his usual brusque persona. Instead, you’re keening for him, nodding your head against his collarbone and squeaking out your best impression of a ‘yes, Joel, please, please!’
Shit- it’s coming. You feel it racing through you before he even delivers his devastating blow. You think it can’t get any more intense, that it can’t feel any better than this, until he’s pushing his hips upwards and manoeuvres his hand to brush his thumb against your swollen, sensitive clit.
The print of his thumb doesn’t even make it a full rotation before your orgasm comes roaring forwards, slamming through your body to the point it’s almost painful in the best way. You’re quick to smother your scream of his name, biting down hard on the denim fabric at Joel’s throat and releasing the devastating shout of his name into the fibres between your teeth.
Poor Joel stumbles with how hard your body clamps down on him, his galloping thrusts reduced to sloppy stutters of his hips as a grating, pained groan rattles through his ribs beside your ear. Distantly, you can feel him pulsing inside you, filling you until his cum is spilling down the sides of his cock.
“God-“ He chokes out, voice catching in his throat as you heave for breath. It’s not as though he has the energy to lift you from him, still buzzing. You’re somewhere else entirely, vision blurry and consciousness far outside the dermis walls of your body.
Slumped against Joel, you focus on breathing. How do you do it again? In and out… In and out. It’s embarrassing, the way he’s left you unsure of essential bodily functions. The ease with which he’s numbed your mind and body.
Ironically, though, he makes it easier to find your way back to yourself. His steady, albeit heavy, breathing ticks like a metronome, easing you down from the impossible high you’ve ascended beneath his touch. He smells like salty sweat, like mud that cakes his boots and the truck's tyres.
“You think maybe we should pick that magazine back up?” Joel mumbled into your hair, oddly quiet and almost shy despite the blunt delivery of the query.
Pausing, you glance up at him through your lashes and catch a tinge of embarrassment on his cheeks. He’s staring down at the sidewalk next to the tyres, no doubt eyeing up the pages strewn across the cement flags.
“… Well,” you whisper, voice hoarse, “You never know what survival skills we might need. With your blueprints for Molotovs and upgrading weapons and my articles on ‘bizarre sex positions’, we’re bound to survive the apocalypse-“
“Alright, darlin’,” Joel attempts to speak you down from your amused ramblings, made awkward by the crudeness of the conversation once again.
“I mean, what the fuck is the ‘Pretzel Dip’?”
“Fuck if I know,” he admits with an air of chagrin.
“… You’re not much of a playboy, are you Miller?”
“Shut up and put your pants on.”
END
@hoeneey @howaboutcastiel @welcometostayingawake @syrma-sensei @ethanhoewke @polaroidpetal @foxilayde @bookfrog242 @wh0reforbucknasty @zakizigekwe @ahookedheroespureheart @buckys-other-punk @anxious-sappho @alexloveskili @captainrexstan @astroboots @knights-power @southcrnbelle @niallsbunny @hold-our-destiny @vermillionwinter @stormkobra-5 @erenbissexual @alwritey-aphrodite @maggotzombie @deadpige0n @bakerstreethound @whatthehekko @cottagebunny9 @bit-dodgy-innit @peachyproserpina
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your-nanas-house · 8 months
Text
"Good girl"
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◇ Pairing: Dark!Thomas Shelby X fem!reader
◇ Warnings: slightly smut, age gap, kind of cheating?, angst, fluff
◇ Summary: You want to be a good wife for your husband, John Shelby, and Thomas is willing to help you.
◇ Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English. Still trying to figure out how to write Tommy in a more Tommy way. Let me know what you think! 🍓
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"You know what I mean" Tommy sighed, rubbing his temples stressed because of the hard day he had
"Before the arranged marriage" He added, looking at you with his cold blue eyes.
"There must have been suitors waiting to marry you, hon" Tommy said softly, sounding almost curious in tone.
He knew that you were married to his own brother, John Shelby— he himself was the cause of that arranged marriage of a couple of months ago— but he was still curious, there was something in you, maybe the mature mind inside of a young lovely woman's body, that attracted him.
"Not really, no" you replied in a soft tone, pausing a moment to give a further explanation when you saw Tommy's eyebrows raise slightly in curiosity but he was faster
"No suitors waiting to propose?" Thomas asked sounding almost incredulous at this.
"I find that hard to believe, especially when looking at a pretty face such as yours."
He was still looking straight at you, almost appraising you.
"There had to have been at least one young man who fell in love with you, right?" He insisted, blowing out the smoke of his cigarette from his nostrils.
You sat better on the sofa, holding the sleepy form of Charlie on your chest as you replied with embarrassment
"Men want brainless women, sir. If love is to want their body and not their soul then I had plenty of suitors but if love is wanting the soul and the body then I was alone" you whispered, catching him off guard.
"A poetic young woman." Tommy said softly, as he looked at you with interest.
The maid behind the door seemed a little shocked at the conversation not that you knew or cared.
"You know, miss, there are many women who would kill to marry a me, get my attention or touch, just for your information." Tommy said, his tone slightly playful but his face serious "They'd be waiting in line, hoping to be noticed by me"
He let out a long sigh, and smiled softly.
"But it's clear to me now that those women would have been a waste of my time." He added, his baby blue eyes now staring at you in an almost dark way, you bit your bottom lip confused making something dark snap into him.
"And why are you not one of those women?" Tommy asked, after a small pause, with a sly smile. He really expected to see a glimpse of interest or lust in your eyes as soon as you sat on that sofa.
"You're not blind, of course. You know I'm a rich, handsome man, I'm a war veteran, a gangster, a businessman. Most women would be fighting one another for a slice of me."
He murmured leaning back into the sofa as he turned his body further towards you
"Yet here you are, not showing me the least bit of interest. Why is that?"
You were honestly a bit taken aback by his statement— you weren't blind for sure, Tommy was an handsome and charismatic man but you were married to his young brother and you momma taught you to be loyal.
You blushed softly, caressing softly Charlie's brunette hair as you thought of a reply
"I think...because of respect, sir" you paused a moment adding "and personality".
His cold eyes and dominant aura was making you feel a bit helpless.
"Respect?" Tommy stared at you, his tone serious "You respect me, miss?"
He studies your expression before continuing to speak
"A woman can respect a man, miss, whilst also seeing him as a man. Just as I respect you for your intelligence and courage, I also see you as a beautiful woman who, in different circumstances, I would not hesitate to express my admiration for."
Your eyes widen softly as you stared at him speechless, a soft blush of shame covered your cheeks.
You were born in a strict and pretty religious family so you honestly had no idea about this kind of things, sadly, your own husband John told you so— not with words but rather with his eyes.
"I'm afraid I don't know how" you whispered in a soft voice, ashamed to admit it out loud.
"Don't know how to... see a man as a man?" Tommy asked, his tone more serious again
"Or you don't know how to show affection, miss?" He added, looking statight at you.
He seemed genuinely curious to hear what you had to say about this.
"You seem to have no trouble showing affection to Charlie." He added, as an observation, his cold eyes on you.
He was right, you knew how to show affection, you just lucked of experience in romantic affection.
You never had this kind of conversation with anyone before, it was rather interesting for your naive mind and after hearing for most of your life, rumors about the infamous Thomas Shelby you know for sure that he could help you with this— so you followed the wind with open arms, without shame.
"Is the same love I show Charlie the one that I should show my husband?" You asked curiously, stroking in a motherly way the soft baby hair of Charlie
"No." Tommy answered, his tone firm and decisive
"The love you have for Charlie is maternal. You look after him, you care for him. You love him as a child."
He paused
"The love you have for a husband is very different, miss" Tommy explained, his voice soft.
"The love you have for your husband is... tender, passionate." He murmured softly, his icy gaze becoming dark and even more full of lust
"I think you know the difference, miss— You just need to learn to show it." He added, his voice low sending a weird shiver through your spine.
"That is what marriage is, darlin—" Tommy sayid, his voice soft and smooth, the smoke of his cigarette escaping his mouth
"—Learning to show romance to your husband, learning to love him passionately."
You were confused but determined, you joined the Shelby family not so much time ago but you were now focused to be the perfect wife for your husband— so you nodded, eagerly, ready to please and learn.
"Shall I show you?" Tommy asked softly, breaking the silent that had been established
"Shall I teach you how to please a man?" He asked, looking back at you with a sly smile.
"How to be a wife, honey. Can I teach you how to do that?"
You honestly had a bad feeling, a lot of questions kept running around your head but you trusted Thomas, he was your brother-in-law.
Tommy seemed pleased at your answer, which surprised you a bit
"Good girl." He said, his voice soft again. He paused a moment, getting closer to you to put his hand on your leg, his voice quiet when he spoke again
"A woman like you should also learn how to give a man a treat every now and then"
Your eyes remained focused on him as he gave your leg a slight squeeze.
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theemporium · 10 months
Note
Please could you do something where Sunshine is avoiding Daniel because something happened and he’s not going to like it? Thank you xxx
thank you for requesting!🫶🏽
tw: talks of harassment and sexual harassment
.
You should’ve told him. 
You knew you should’ve told you, and a part of you wanted to tell him. You and Daniel didn’t keep secrets, not ones like this and it killed you to not tell him. But you also knew what he was like, you knew how he would get. 
Daniel was protective. He was protective over the people he cared about, and you were lucky enough to be one of those people. But when it came to those he loved, he tended to lose all logic and rationality, and you knew this would be no different. 
You knew if you told him, he would lose his top. He would be pissed (never at you though). And, if you were being totally honest, you didn’t tell him because you were scared of the repercussions. 
You didn’t want Daniel to act on impulse and do something stupid that would result in him losing his job. It would eat you up if you knew you were the reason he lost his dream. You couldn’t do that. 
So, you decided to keep your mouth shut about the nosy journalist. 
At first, he was just that. He was nosy and got in your space a little too much. He would hound you with questions about Daniel and your relationship, follow you through the paddock until you could escape into the garages. 
Then, his questions got more personal and sexual, and your discomfort was growing. He started questioning your sex life, asking what you did to please Daniel in bed. You knew it was wrong, of course you did. But that voice in the back of your head told you that you were being dramatic, that no one would believe you and that maybe—just maybe—you weren’t taking a joke right. 
It was during one of these insistent questioning sessions that Max witnessed it. He was pissed, raging beyond belief. The question he interrupted wasn’t even that bad, tame in comparison to what you were used to. But Max saw your discomfort and snapped at the journalist to fuck off. 
You made him swear not to tell Daniel anything, saying that you wanted to tell him yourself. Max was hesitant, but agreed. 
But then, things escalated further. 
You were running late, having slept in a bit longer than you were meant to. Daniel was at the gym with his trainer early that morning, so you wouldn’t see him until later in the day when he arrived. You were rushing through the crowd of people to get to the garage, not paying attention to where you were going until a hand suddenly gripped your arm and tugged you back. 
You lost your footing and fell to the ground. You winced at the impact, and tried to tug yourself free, only to see the journalist standing over you. You freaked out, you thrashed around but the journalist wouldn’t let you go until you answered his questions. 
The camera he was trying to shove in your face ended up knocking against your forehead, and considering the dripping you could feel down the side of your face, you knew you had been cut. 
The journalist seemed to finally back off when he noticed blood, freaking out and giving you enough time to run off to the safety of the McLaren motorhome, which happened to be the closest. 
You were too busy looking behind you, that you didn’t even see Lando until you ran right into him. 
“Woah,” he laughed, his hands on your shoulders to stop you from falling back. But you flinched at the movement, and when you turned towards him, his face fell. “What the fuck happened?” 
“I—” But your throat went dry and you couldn’t really speak. You couldn’t get the words, you couldn’t do anything but stare at him with wide eyes and shaky breaths.
“Okay, wait, no, it’s fine,” he murmured as his eyes darted around the room before quickly leading you towards the bathrooms. “Let’s get you cleaned up, okay? You don’t have to tell me anything.”
And he kept his promise. He led you towards the bathrooms, had you leaned against a counter whilst he managed to scavenge a first aid kit from another team member. He didn’t say a word to you as he cleaned the cut on your forehead before placing some butterfly stitches over the wound.
“You can’t tell him,” you rasped out eventually, breaking the silence between you. “He can’t know.”
Lando paled. “You should—”
“He will freak out,” you said to him. “I don’t want him to do anything that will damage his reputation.”
“Mate, I think you’re passed that point,” Lando murmured as he nodded towards your arm. Your sleeve had rolled up, revealing what looked like a bruise starting to form where the journalist had grabbed you. “He will know the second he sees you.”
You pressed your lips. “I can avoid him.”
The Brit sighed. “I really think you should tell Daniel.”
“Just…promise me you won’t say anything?” you pleaded to the driver who had become a close friend to you over the years. “Let me handle the rest.”
And just like Max, despite his hesitance, he agreed.
It was hard. Way harder than you thought because the second he reached the paddock, Daniel was blowing up your phone to see you. You tried to make up excuses but he wasn’t buying them at all. 
He tried to find you in between meetings and in the garage, but it was like you were a ghost. A pit formed in his stomach when he asked the third team member if they had seen you, only to scrabble out some shitty replying before running off. 
He knew you were ignoring him and he wanted to know why.
Daniel went as far as hunting down some of your closest friends in the paddock to see if they knew why you were acting weird, which led him towards the McLaren motorhome where Lando and Max were standing outside, talking away about something that seemed serious considering the expression on their faces. 
A conversation that came to a halt the second they noticed Daniel.
“Have you seen Sunshine?”
Neither boy said anything.
Daniel frowned. “What’s going on? What’s with that look on your faces?”
Max tried laughing it off, waving his hand dismissively. “It’s nothing—”
“Something happened to her this morning and she doesn't want you to know!” Lando blurted out before he slapped his hand over his mouth.
“Fucking hell,” Max muttered.
But Daniel felt like every thought came to a screeching stop the second the words left Lando’s mouth. His heart was pounding in his chest and he swore he could hear his blood roaring in his ears.
“What do you mean something happened to her?”
It took less than two minutes for the boys to break. And less than a minute for them to reveal where you had been hiding all day.
Your head snapped up when the door to Max’s driver room opened, expecting to see the boy returning with the coffees he promised to run out and grab. But your face fell a little when you noticed it was Daniel.
His eyes were locked on you, or more specifically the cut on your forehead. You didn’t even realise your hand subconsciously moved to cover the forming bruise until his eyes dropped there, and there was nothing but pure anger in his expression. 
“Daniel—” you started but he was already moving across the room, kneeling down beside you and reaching to cup your face.
“Are you okay?”
The question caught you off guard slightly, almost like you expected him to start demanding answers instantly.
“Sunshine, are you okay?”
“I….Lando cleaned me up,” you murmured slowly.
His jaw clenched slightly. “What happened?”
You stayed silent.
“Sunshine,” he said in a firmer voice. 
“I don’t want you to do something stupid,” you blurted out. “I…promise me you won’t. Please. I don’t want you getting in trouble with something—”
“Stop,” he said with a shake of his head. “Sunshine, I can’t promise anything of the sort.”
Your face fell. “Daniel—”
“He hurt you,” Daniel gritted out between clenched teeth, his eyes dark and stormy. “He has been bothering you for weeks, he should have been dealt with ages ago. So no, I am not gonna promise I won’t do anything stupid because he hurt the love of my life, and that’s not something I am gonna let go.”
Your lips parted into a small ‘o’.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he whispered, his voice a little more agonised as his thumb brushed over your cheek. “Baby, you can tell me anything.”
“I don’t know, I just—” you let out a sigh, shaking your head. “I thought I was being dramatic.”
Daniel’s eyes softened. “Tell me next time. Please. I…baby, you were hurt and I wasn’t there for you.”
“M’sorry,” you murmured but he quickly shook his head.
“Don’t apologise. Not for this.” Daniel said, leaning in to peck your lips. “Come on, we are taking you to the hospital.”
Your eyes widened. “Daniel, I’m fine. You have—”
“Nuh uh, I wanna make sure you don’t need proper stitches or have a concussion or anything,” he said as he pulled you off the couch you were currently sitting on. “And once I know you are okay, I am gonna ruin that fucker’s life for ever laying a hand on you.”
“I don’t want you to get in trouble,” you said in a softer voice.
“Oh please,” he murmured, a small smile growing on his face. “Christian will protect me while I protect you.”
You snorted.
“And afterwards, I am gonna kick Max and Lando’s asses for not telling me.”
“They were just being good friends,” you told him. “I asked them not to.”
“Still kicking their asses!”
.
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Hello, I'd like to request for fuegoleon, William, nozel, zora and Nacht where they hurt their s/O's feelings and make her cry? And just how guilty they feel, how they make it up, comfort their s/o and apologize. You can choose whatever they couldve said or done to make her cry I love anything you write they're all so good
If 5 characters is too much then just fuego, nozel and nacht would be fine please and thankyou❤️
Hello! Some hurt comfort is on the menu it seems, and I'm happy to oblige ^^ This ended up being a lot longer than I anticipated, but I hope it's worth the wait ^^
Pairings: Fuegoleon x f!reader, William x f!reader, Nozel x f!reader, Zora x f!reader, Nacht x f!reader
Fanfic type: Headcanons
Genre: Hurt-comfort
Length: about 0.75k each, 3.9k total
Warnings: Generally hurt-comfort, the guys snap at reader, all for reasons of their own, in Nozel's scenario the reader doesn't really know what kind of a person Nozel's dad is, Zora addresses reader as "babydoll", Zora calls himself as a "jerk ass", reader cries and the guys try to comfort in their own ways
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Fuegoleon
He had had very taxing couple of months. The adverse the country was facing seemed to have no end in sight, and it felt that in terms of politics and finances the country was being pushed further and further into a corner, which took an immense toll on him emotionally.
And though a part of him wished that he could simply take a vacation and not worry about any of it, he knew it to be senseless. Quite simply because the same issues would wait him as he returned, and they would have further piled up, so taking a vacation would be counterproductive. But still he felt that his nerves were hanging by a thin thread, even if he considered himself as a patient man.
As he sat by his desk, you came through the door with a paper in hand.
“I made us a reservation to a restaurant,” you told him. “I thought we could take a nice evening off, have a date and just enjoy life,” you smiled, while presenting the reservation information to him.
“No thank you,” he said without looking up from the documents in front of him.
“But you need to have some time off as well,” you insisted while placing your hand onto his arm and tugging him slightly. “So I planned us a day where we can just do something w-“
“I can’t take a day off!” He snapped. “Surely a moment of peace and quiet would be pleasant, but there is too much to take care of for me to quite simply ‘take a day off’,” he continued.
And you… lifted your hand off of his arm, and took a step back.
You had intended to do something nice for him, because you had seen how strained he was and now he… wasn’t… feeling the sentiment. A part of you wanted to blame yourself because you had failed to read him and what he’d wish correctly, because wasn’t a spouse supposed to be able to do that?
There were a lot of emotions swirling around in you, but none of them were pleasant. And with it, tears begun climbing to your eyes with a burning sensation, only to roll down your cheeks.
Fuegoleon looked at you, and there was a gnawing, pricking ocean of guilt in his chest, because he knew that you had meant well. You had wanted to do something nice for him and make the situation at least a little bit more bearable.
“My love I’m…” he reached forward for you. “I’m sorry. It wasn’t my intention to hurt you, but … I…” his gaze fell to the side as he spoke, feeling the weight of his words, spoken carelessly.
You didn’t shy away from him as he tried to get close to you again, because it wasn’t… that you didn’t understand him, and you could see the sincere apology and regret in his eyes.
“I’ll… I’ll try to take the day off…” he promised with something that sounded almost like a sigh, but really it was because he knew what it’d mean.
And you knew what it’d mean too. It’d mean sleepless nights, having less time during the next week or two for you two to spend together regularly, in place of that one day. It was a sacrifice he was willing to make, but it wouldn’t be worth it. You’d rather see him a little each day than not at all.
“No,” you shook your head with a faint tone while mirroring his movements and reaching for him. “We can… just have a moment, a short moment, in the evening to ourselves,” you said through your drying tears.
His eyes gathered that gentle undertone that was too beautiful for this world, as he placed his hand onto your cheek and brushed away your tears. “If that is what you wish,” he said with gratitude in his voice before he pressed a kiss onto your forehead.
You nodded as a reply, even if only faintly.
“I am sorry, my beloved,” he still repeated. “You’re the most important person in my life, and I don’t wish to impose any-“
“No, no,” you shook your head. “I get it. There’s a lot on your plate and I should have talked about your schedule with you before making reservations…”
“But your heart was in the right place,” he told you while placing his hand under your chin. “And that’s one of the reasons why I love you,” he admitted while lifting your chin, and placing another kiss onto your lips, warm, gentle and caressing, which washed away any shadow of doubt of his sentiments that might have been there.
William
The days had grown long, because of everything that was going on in the kingdom. And with the disappearance of Julius, it had gotten him thinking about what had happened after the whole ordeal with the elves. Which had made… something about the whole state of the kingdom hit too close to home with him.
Perhaps he was questioning being pardoned altogether, since it seemed that the one to pardon him, had taken a run for it. Or perhaps something more dire.
But if the only person to be willing to pardon him was someone like him, willing to look the other way when the kingdom was falling to its knees then…
It filled him with various emotions, all swirling and twisting and turning until he felt all of them trying to bubble to the surface, but he didn’t know which to let out first. How to let them out. Instead it felt like they were all stuck in his throat, just building, building, building up pressure so much that he might-
“Hey honey!” You greeted while entering through the door of his office, only to see him hunching over his own desk. “Oh did you eat something bad, or-“ you placed your hand onto his shoulder.
But he pushed it away. “Don’t touch me!” He ordered without as much as looking at you. And from his tone, you heard nothing but pain, hurt, and… you could have sworn… disgust… underlying it all… You could have sworn there to be contempt… in there…
You took a step back, pulling your hand to you and holding it with the other. As you couldn’t… imagine why… why would he have… Your sweet William…
His chest was heaving, and as his eyes lifted from the desk to you, the most prominent feelings you could se were fear and pain. The way they flickered, his purple eyes that were so gentle, flickered around as tears lined the corners of his eyes.
“Forgive me…” he whispered as his eyes turned to the side. “I didn’t… I just… Why did he pardon me? Some… solidarity from a villain to another?” His head swayed from side to side, as if trying to comprehend, but failed to do so.
“You’re… not a villain, Will…” you tried, because his reaction had… made sense. It wasn’t you he was trying to shoo away, it was his own emotions, but you sounded anything but convinced. Tears climbed to your own eyes.
You buried your face into your hands, and wept, from the shock of what had happened, his words, but also because you had understood where it came from. Because he was pained from the guilt of his past actions, and you felt his pain too.
He turned to look at you again, as he heard your sobs, and got up from the chair to make his way to you from the other side of the desk.
“I’m sorry… so, so sorry my little song bird…” he wrapped his arms around you, and pressed his head against yours, as his tears rolled down his cheeks, and onto you. “I’ll… make it up to you…” he pleaded. “Just don’t… please don’t… hate me, I… didn’t… wasn’t… I didn’t mean to….” His voice was faint, broken and defeated, and he swayed in place with you in his arms.
It sounded like he was repenting. Praying for forgiveness.
“I don’t hate you… Will,” you told him while wrapping your own arms around him. He was a broken man, and he had acted out of distress. Without intent to hurt you. Without intent to push you away.
He pressed a kiss onto your head as his embrace grew tighter. “I’m sorry,” he still whispered.
You nudged his head with yours, and whispered against his skin “we’ll make it through.”
Because you would. The two of you would. He wasn’t a bad man. He wasn’t a villain. It was simply that the guilt he felt got overbearing sometimes, which had caused him to call out in fear of what he thought about himself.
But he loved you, and you loved him. So, you could heal, together. You were certain about it, as you stood there, holding onto each other.
Nozel
Nozel had learned to deal with his family situation from a young age. Though ‘dealing with it’ had turned into something that seemed more like survival. Not that you could see it from the surface. Because, while looking from afar, without seeing into his eyes, his emotions, he was a calm sea. Vast and serene. Though something, someone to be revered and respected, because there was also harshness in the oceans.
But if you had the opportunity to peek under the surface, you’d see a twisting, turning vortex of guilt, pain, sorrow… fear… A lot of emotions one might deem ugly.
‘Unsightly’ he would describe them in himself. Because he couldn’t be any of those things. The Captain of the Silver Eagles, the First Born Son of the Royal House of Silva, couldn’t be any of those things. And thus… to him, in him, they were unsightly.
He didn’t talk about his childhood either. He didn’t talk about his parents, aside of his mother. Which, given the circumstances of her parting, made sense. He would talk about her more because of the fate she had faced.
You had been thinking about starting a family with him. You had talked about it in passing. And as you sat in the living room, him staring out of the window, deep in thought. You talked about how lovely it’d be. “I’m sure you’d be a great father,” you thought out loud, meaning just it, and nothing else. “Just like yours.”
His head begun to turn to you with a slow motion, as if mechanic, and his eyes were wide open. It wasn’t even a glare, but a mad stare.
“I will never be like that bastard!” He shouted, making you press against your seat out of the sheer force in which the words were pushed, spat out of his mouth.
His body started to shake, and the stare turned into a look of horror as his eyes fell down to the floor. Because…. Because… though his father had been horrid, spewed poisonous words in a whole different way than shouting… maybe you had been right and… he was on his way becoming just like his father. Which was among the last things he’d want.
But you… you didn’t quite understand where it had come from. Sure, he hadn’t talked about his father, but you hadn’t thought that there’d be this level of hatred and contempt for him from Nozel. Though you had gathered that Older Lord Silva wasn’t a well liked man, but… surely he… would have been… kinder to his… own children, right?
Right…?
There were a lot of emotions turning within you. Partly from the force of Nozel’s words, and partly from guilt of having failed to see through his silence. Through the things he didn’t want to talk about, and… as you leaned forward, your elbows on your knees and buried your face into your hands, you cried. You cried and you cried and you… didn’t know what to do. What to say?
You felt a weight right next to you on the couch, as a pair of arms wrapped around you.
“Nozel I…” you tried while pushing against his chest with a faint motion.
“Don’t…” he started as his hold of you grew more firm. “Look at me…” he continued as his voice broke, and something… as if a droplet, landed onto your shoulder.
The words sounded like a plea. Plea filled with shame and the broken pieces of his soul that he wasn’t eager to show you.
But you did as he wished, and settled into his embrace.
“I’m… sorry, my dear,” he whispered with that same broken tone while placing his hand to the back of your head. “I’ll… be better, than him. I will…” you couldn’t tell if he was trying to tell that to you or to himself.
But whatever his father must’ve been like in reality, you could already tell that Nozel was far better of a man than his father had ever been. He was. Because the man who held you in the soft, gentle, secure embrace felt so very deeply about you and the ones close to him.
He really was like an ocean of secrets.
“I love you,” he professed through another whisper, but while the tone was silent, the proclamation was loud as ever. “I love you…” he repeated, just to make sure that you heard him.
And as you buried your face into his shoulder, and the scent of his haircare products flowed to you, it was as if your tears had disappeared into thin air.
Nozel might not have been the best with words, but he was there, when you needed him the most.
Zora
Zora had had to raise himself for a good portion of his childhood. Though Zara had given him good tools to life, and a lot of wonderful memories, it didn’t mean that Zora wouldn’t have had to toughen up.
His accomplishments, his skills and tenacity were all a result of him having a keen eye for details, while also having had to, quite bluntly, tell himself to do better. Pay attention to his own shortcomings and fix the issue.
But… it had also resulted in him being blunt with others. Though it was all for the sake of betterment, for growth and development of skills, the way he delivered the words were harsh more often than not. Which was something he was trying to fix, when it came to some people, at least.
You knew that he was like that. And you knew that he wasn’t the type of a guy to just sit around and expect you to do all the housework, but it didn’t mean that you didn’t like cooking from time to time. Actually, maybe it was the idea that you didn’t need to cook, because he’d be more than alright with cooking if you asked him to, but rather that you could.
But today the dish wasn’t… cutting it. You had tried to taste it many times and there was something in the seasoning that wasn’t just… doing it for you. But you couldn’t really place your finger on what was wrong with it. Or not… wrong wrong per se, but it certainly could be better.
You leaned against the stove, and sighed to yourself, as the gears in your head tried to turn. But came up empty.
A drawer was opened, and closed. There was a sound of metal clicking against metal and steps coming closer, accompanied by a hum from a certain, masked, someone.
Zora dipped his spoon into the food and took a bite to test the taste. And after he had, he sighed, sounding disappointed before making his way to the spice cabinet and laying thme out onto the table.
“The balance is all wrong,” he said. “It’s mainly salty while you want there to be some sweetness to it for the contrast as well. A bit of acid would do wonders, but the real issue is that the spices aren’t complimenting each other,” he explained while taking the spoon and adding one spice after another along with other ingredients.
And you… took a step back and let him do it. Because if it was ‘all wrong’, why should you have interjected?
In all honesty, it made you feel unappreciated. Like you couldn’t even cook right. If I can’t even cook right, then why is he with me….? You found yourself thinking.
Before you knew it, your eyes had turned to the floor and you were grinding your molars together as tears started climbing to your eyes. And eventually, they ran down your cheeks as you were still immersed into your own thoughts, in how you didn’t think that you could do a simple task correct. Because surely Zora wanted someone by his side who could contribute as much as he did. Surely. So why was he-
“Hey babydoll?”
You looked up, and saw him standing there, having placed his hand onto your shoulder.
His eyes were deep, calm blue. Clear and yet deep blue. And there was worry in them. That was when you realized that you were crying and looked away while wrapping your arms around yourself.
He sighed, and rubbed the back of his head. “Sorry about the tone,” he said. “Didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, and… I’m happy to eat whatever you make,” he tried but the consolation fell short, given how he had started cooking in your place.
You curled around yourself a bit more, without really meaning to, but you did. In any case.
“Come here,” he said while pulling you into an embrace.
Seconds ticked away for a while as he just held you, and the dinner was slowly cooking on the stove.
“If you want me to stay out of it, you need to just tell me, y’know? I know that I can be too harsh, and… And… I try to not be.”
He was trying to help you get better. But he could be a wee bit of a jerk about it at times.
“We both know I can be a real ass jerk,” he said with a hint of amusement, trying to make you laugh.
And it worked. “But you’re my jerk,” you replied with a hint of a giggle in your tone.
“That I am,” he replied. “And I hope you never need to get sick of me,” he continued while pulling away just enough to wipe your tears away.
You gave him a small smile as a reply to his careful one, and went back to cooking, together.
Nacht
Nacht had been a loner for most of his life. Someone who travelled down his own path without caring what everyone else thought. And it had made him someone who spoke directly about anything and everything he deemed to be topical to say.
Though he could also be harsh. Granted that he was the harshest to himself, but still. His directness could be harsh, and you both knew it.
He tried not to be, to you. He tried to treat you with the kindness that you deserved. He tried to treat you with the respect that you ought to be treated with. But sometimes, he failed.
Though watching him scold the Bulls for their shenanigans yet again, you didn’t think that he was trying all that hard to be constructive. Maybe he just wanted them to be efficient during missions, because that would drive the squad forward the best. ‘Not to be wasteful of energy’, or something like that.
“You could try going easier on them,” you told him later on when it was just the two of you. “Be kinder.”
“Kindness is a weakness,” he scoffed. “And Yami has let them slack off enough already which will get them killed. Only a fool would go easy on them.”
You stopped, thinking about what he had just said. Because you were going easy with the rest of the Bulls. You were kind to them. And Nacht. So… so.
You couldn’t help but think that Nacht had, there and then, revealed what he really thought of you. Though it wasn’t directed at you, he had been, still, indirectly talking about you too. Basically he had called you weak and stupid.
Basically.
Which made your eyes turn to the ground as you bit down your molars and tried to will away the tears that were climbing to your eyes. Because you shouldn’t have taken such an off-hand comment that wasn’t even said to you, to the heart in such a way but… But. It had struck a nerve in you.
“Hm? What is it?” He asked, having stopped and turned around to look at you, as if he hadn’t realized what he had said.
“So you think that I’m dumb and weak?” You asked with bitterness lacing your tone as the tears finally glazed over your eyes, but didn’t roll down quite yet.
“That isn’t what I said,” he argued, now facing you fully and taking a few steps closer to you.
“But I am letting them off easier and I am being kind to them. So. If being kind and letting them have a breather is-“
“You’re not responsible for them.”
“Neither are you!” Now tears ran, but you didn’t look at him.
You didn’t look, and he said nothing.
Surely, he could have argued that as a vice captain he was more or less responsible, but not to the same extent as Yami. And at the end of the day, all the Bulls were responsible for themselves. So, he didn’t need to care about what they did with their time. Really.
“You are not weak and stupid,” he said while taking you by the hand. “Quite the contrary,” he admitted. “And I shouldn’t have spoken so carelessly.”
He sounded like he was speaking out a ready made dialogue of a noble man that he used to be. But you supposed that he hadn’t needed to comfort anyone lately either. If ever. If he had ever needed to comfort anyone. Even himself, since he had denied such a thing from himself.
But he could see how the ready made dialogue wasn’t doing it. The words might have been there, but the sentiment wasn’t.
“Darling?” He whispered, while moving again a little bit closer to you. “I’m sorry,” he said while summoning his shadows and tugging you, as if to ask to come along with him. To which you nodded, and he transported you both to your bedroom.
As you stood there, in the sanctity of the room with the door closed, he finally wrapped his arms around you and held you close. “You are not weak. Or stupid,” he repeated. This time the tone was one that sounded genuine, caring, insisting. “I’m sorry for insinuating it.”
You nodded and returned the embrace.
“It’s simply that… not being prepared can get people killed…” there was a reason, in there, why he would remind you of such a thing.
“But people need to live too.” And there was no arguing over it. Because life was meant to be lived.
Not even he could deny it. “They do…” he admitted while holding you closer in his arms.
And it was in that embrace that you could feel his heartbeat, his remorse and regret. But most importantly, you could feel how he did love you. Because he did. With his entire heart and soul.
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Text
Do It For Me
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This fic will cover my Laser-Tag/Paintball Adventure square on my @jacklesversebingo card.
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Summary: You really want Ben to get into the spirit of a fun Paintball adventure. What will you have to promise to get him there.
Warnings/Explicit 18+: None really. Bit of kissing, some suggestive language. Ben being a grumpy boy. Versions of Ben, Annie and Hughie that don't necessarily fit canon.
Pairings: Soldier Boy (Ben) x Reader
Word Count: 1,259
A/N: So this is my next square for my second jacklesversebingo card. The request for this one came from @spnwoman who said this:
Hi me again!! Lol or a “laser tag/paintball adventure” with soldier boy/ Ben with the reader would be really fun for them to let lose and have fun as a couple with promise as something sexy as a reward 😉
I veered a little bit away from your request; it ended up more fluffy than sexy, but I hope you still enjoy it!
The beautiful dividers were created by @firefly-graphics
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“This is fucking ridiculous, Y/N. You can’t expect me to put this shit on.” Ben’s voice was sharp, but his face was pouty as you looked up from tying on your knee pad.
You couldn’t help but smile at his annoyance which made his pout turn into a glare. You shook your head. “Look, it’s just the rules of the course. Everybody has to wear the safety equipment.”
As you finished speaking, one of the elbow pads he’d attached incorrectly fell to the ground, making an angry growl erupt from his chest, and you covered your mouth as a giggle threatened to escape. The last thing you wanted to do was laugh at him. It had taken a lot of cajoling and promises on your part to get him to even come down to the paintball course. 
It was a double date that you and he were having with Annie and Hughie. You’d told him it would be so much fun, that it would be great to go out with another couple. You told him how much it would mean to you to do something couple-y with your boyfriend. But he’d resisted all arguments.
“I am an actual fucking soldier. I’m not going to some playland to pretend I’m a soldier and shoot paint at each other.” He’d scoffed. “It’s a game for children, and in case you forgot, sweetness, I’m a man.” 
He'd yanked you up against him at that point and every one of your arguments sank beneath a moan as he plundered your mouth and kissed you breathless. The discussion had been postponed while he spent the afternoon showing you just how much of a man he was. 
But the next day you’d started the campaign again. Ben had been frustrated beyond belief at your refusal to take no for an answer. Finally he’d made you a deal. He’d go play paintball with you if you did something for him, something he’d been trying to get you to do since you'd started dating. With only a brief hesitation from you, the deal was struck.
Now you were here and you had to admit that he did look a little ridiculous in the paintball gear. He was out in public so he had his super suit on, but the place where you were playing insisted that everyone had to wear their helmets, elbow and knee pads. Trying to fit the equipment over Ben’s actual soldier's uniform, complete with knee pads and elbow pads of his own, wasn’t going very well. 
“Here,” you said as you bent to pick up the elbow pad, “take yours off. You won’t need them while we’re here, right? So, just wear these ones instead. And the helmet will be great, you used to wear one all the time, I’ve seen pictures.”
Ben jammed the silly black helmet on his head, leaving the visor raised and the clasp and chin strap dangling. “Yeah, it didn’t look like this.”
You bit your lip again and reached up to secure the strap under his chin and snap it into place. “You look very adorable.”
Ben continued to glare as you finished dressing him. 
“Hey guys.” Annie spoke as she and Hughie came into the changing area. “All ready to go?”
You snapped the last buckle in place on Ben’s knee pad and nodded. “Yep! Be prepared to go down you two!” You raised a finger and looked at Annie and then Ben. “Oh, and no superpowers allowed.”
Both supes rolled their eyes and Ben picked up his gun and eyed it suspiciously.
“Paint. Pfft.” He mumbled under his breath.
It may have started rough, but within ten minutes Ben was fully invested. He was calling out strategies to you as he scouted the terrain. (The terrain being a concrete play area covered with various objects to hide behind - old car hoods, bales of hay, a shed with one side missing, etc.)
As you hid in the shed, Ben had his back to you, keeping watch on the open side. He turned to you and gave you a series of extravagant hand gestures that you guessed were supposed to tell you something. When you just stared at him with wide eyes and shrugged shoulders he rolled his eyes. 
He made the gestures again, whispering instructions at the same time. “I’m gonna scout forward, you stay hidden. Watch your right flank.”
“Oh. Mmkay.” You said with a thumbs up. 
Ben just sighed and moved forward, his head on a swivel as he moved from one piece of cover to another. A few minutes later you heard Annie and Hughie let out twin shouts of dismay and then Ben’s cry of victory. You poked your head out of the shed as the three of them walked forward. Hugh and Annie were splattered nearly head to toe with Ben’s green paint. Ben didn’t have a drop on him. 
You grinned as he approached you, the visor on his helmet raised and a huge smile wreathing his face. 
“Let’s go again!” He shouted.
***
A few days later:
You felt Ben behind you, pressing tight against you. His body was hard and warm, but you trembled. You’d never done anything like this and it scared you.
“Ben - “ You started, but he cut you off.
“Uh uh, sweetness, you promised. You said if I played paintball, you’d finally give me this.”
A whine entered your voice as Ben’s arms encircled you. “But, you liked paintball in the end. I’m telling you, I’m really not sure about this.”
“I am.” Ben tilted his head to press a kiss just behind your ear. “I’m very sure.”
You sighed deeply. “Fine. Let’s just get this over with.”
Ben kicked your feet further apart. “Widen your stance.” Then he brought his hands forward onto yours before pulling your arms back a little. “And tuck your arms in closer to your body. You’ll take the recoil better.”
The power of the cold metal weapon in your hands made you sweat as Ben pressed another kiss to your cheek and then stood up and moved away from you. “Okay, baby aim for dead center and pull the trigger when you feel ready.”
Watching your face, Ben could see your fear. “Y/N.” He said softly and you looked at him. “You’re perfectly safe, you’re just aiming at a piece of paper. You can’t hurt anyone.”
He reached out to run his fingers down your cheek. “I know this isn’t something you’ll ever enjoy, and that’s perfectly okay. But I’ll feel much better if you know how to defend yourself against my enemies. I have too many to count and they all know I’m impervious to any kind of pain.” His eyes darkened and you saw real fear there. “So they can only hurt me by hurting you.”
He disarmed you quickly and effortlessly and then pulled you into his arms. He kissed you deeply, harshly, desperately, sucking the air from your lungs. When he finally pulled away, you were panting. His forehead rested against yours and he closed his bright green eyes so his fear and worry were hidden from you. “Please, baby, I need to give you all the protection I can, which includes showing you how to protect yourself. That starts with learning how to handle a weapon.”
He opened his eyes and pulled back a bit, chucking your chin and then pressing one more light kiss against your lips, before whispering to you. “Please.” His voice was almost begging.
You sighed deeply, swayed by his worry and concern. 
“Okay.” You conceded. “Give me back the gun and let me try.”
Ben patted your ass and grinned when you frowned at him. "Good girl."
You chuckled - couldn't expect him to stay mushy for too long.
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purplelupins · 9 months
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Salvador
|Better Call Saul|
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Part I Part II
Lalo Salamanca/Fem!reader
Word count: 16k
Summery: Reader just wanted a fresh start, but when she starts working in a care home, it seemed that she bit off more than she could chew when she meets a member of her clients family.
Warnings: slow burn, age gap, manipulation, intimidation, violence (see note), smut (p in v), fingering, degradation and praise, edging, pet names (niña, niñita, princesita, Cariño, Ratoncito) Spanish (have a translator ready), papi kink, Lalo kinda comes with his own warnings, I’m not an electrician or doctor
MINORS DNI I AM NOT GOING TO ASK AGAIN
Notes: this part contains detailed violence (domestic violence, gun shots, talking about death), and smut.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Lalo sat in his car watching that laundry facility like it was a ticking time bomb. Indeed it was his time bomb and he would be there when it went off. It was only a matter of time before he confirmed his theory. He knew that crisp Mr. Fring was hiding something fantastical behind his trustworthy, efficient methods. And when that moment came, and the bomb exploded…Lalo would bask in the heat of its flames on his cheeks-
The obnoxious ringing of his phone snapped his focus in half. The little screen sat illuminated as it continued on its insistent noise. Lalo stared at it, and was about yo snap it shut, and fling it into the back seat until he saw the number; his eye twitched.
He knew exactly who it was.
They hadn’t called him during watch hours for months.
The older man calmly answered it, and held it to his ear, and waited.
It wasn’t a full minute that had passed when Lalo hung up the phone, and was peeling out of his watchpoint fast enough to leave two black tire marks.
There was no doubt that he could have simply told his uncle’s men to deal with it; to dismiss whatever was transpiring and move on, not caring if you were alright or what you were going through.
Then he could have moved on with monitoring the facility.
Easy.
But there was something that ignited inside Lalo when his tio’s guy recounted what had happened. He knew he shouldn’t give a rats ass about going there himself- that was why he had those men there. Lalo could feel that awareness eat at him as he sped through the city, but he crushed it down. There were very few thoughts in his head as he drove, and questioning why he was doing what he was doing, and psychoanalyzing himself was not one of them. He never questioned himself, not really; he just…did.
Lalo pulled in outside your shitty building, and didn’t wait for the men to speak as they joined him on the sidewalk. He took a look up at your window, and felt his left hand twitch when he saw the dim light.
“No entres hasta que yo te lo diga, ¿entendido?” He rumbled, not taking his eyes off the window as he turned and began striding up to the building. The men stayed behind, just as he said. Lalo reached into the back of his jeans with one hand and into his pock with the other, pulling out his pistol and silencer. The metal pieces rolled together easily in his hands; just as seamlessly as he hid his gun, and smiled charmingly at an old lady as she held the door open for him as she took her little dog out for a pee. It was so dark she didn’t see how dead his eyes were. How his soul was leaving them with each passing second.
Lalo began planning his next few moves depending on what was occurring inside your apartment. Were you a plant from another cartel and this was your handler? Were you law enforcement undercover? The older man simultaneously thought over each possibility.
He took the flight of stairs up to your floor, and quieted his footsteps as soon as his eyes fell upon your door. Lalo had stood there once before weeks ago, gun in hand just as it was now…but he had left after just a moment. Killing you wasn’t worth it.
Once he was outside your apartment, he leaned in, and listened.
There was a raised voice inside. An angry one at that too. And a cry.
Lalo didn’t dwell on what it was saying or who it might be; he raised his foot and kicked right next to the lock on the door. It burst open. The older man took three strides inside as the door bounced off the wall as he surveyed and took in the scene before him. His eyes flicked from detail to detail rapidly, piecing everything together in seconds.
The lamp you used was kicked over and partially broken- only the lightbulb was intact, and partially at that. In the low light, he could still see that you were curled up against a wall; broken objects, scuff marks and blood around you and behind you. You were sobbing…shaking. Your hands were over head, arms in front of your knees…bruised and bloody.
There was indeed a man there, just as Hector’s men had said. He was standing over you with his back to the door, words spewing from his mouth at you. His shadow ate your little form up.
The man had begun to turn towards Lalo as he walked into the apartment, but his fate was sealed as soon as Lalo saw his bloody knuckles.
Your blood.
Lalo didn’t stop to ask any questions or make a snark comment before he emptied his gun’s clip into the man’s body. The bullets shredded his flesh, spattering blood as the metal existed his back. Lalo didn’t lower his gun until the man began to crumble to the floor, and he watched despondently as blood started pooling around him. It began to fill each little crack and groove in the wooden floor.
There was a beat of silence following the last shot before Lalo pulled his phone from his pocket.
It only rang once.
“Hecho.” He muttered, then hung up.
Then as he slipped his phone back into his pocket…he saw you.
Actually saw you.
Lalo let his gaze wander over your shaking form. You resembled more of a stray animal than a young woman covered in blood. Your knuckles were white from how tightly your were holding your head. He watched the man’s blood that had spattered onto you mix with your own from the wounds he had inflicted. Then, once the noise faded away, and there was no movement, you began to unfurl. Your arms came down jerkily, and you tentatively rose your head up to see what had happened; you eyes were wide, and puffy. Cheeks flushed against your blanched skin.
His hand twitched.
Your dazed eyes slowly refocused. It took a moment before you followed the edge of the pool of blood to the body now laying on the floor; limp and cold. Lalo could visibly see the scene in front of you settle in your mind while you unclamped your legs from your chest. You slowly got to your knees, eyes still trained on the body, and sat there. The older man didn’t move an inch as he watched you; he was fascinated. He realized this must have been your first time seeing a dead body.
He felt honoured.
You didn’t cry, or scream, or cower in fear. You just looked.
It was as if you were in a trance as you finally rose to your feet; your eyes void of any emotion, mouth in a plain line. Indifferent. Analytical.
Lalo might have been a man of many words, but as you took a few difficult steps towards the body, the older man chose to observe you silently.
For the first time since your door had been slammed in your face that evening, your eyes weren’t hazy. You walked to the edge of the pool of blood, and stared down at the body. He looked so human…so much less of a devil than he had when he was alive. This man who had been nothing but a living nightmare for you was…gone. In a matter of three seconds, he was completely gone.
You didn’t know how he had found you… or why. You tried to remember the moment you had first seen him, but he had some so much damage to you over your relationship that you couldn’t recall your first date. Couldn’t recall a lot in fact.
You took another step forward and stood in the blood of your ex-boyfriend. Then as the warm liquid slipped between your toes, something in you completely snapped. Broke.
You were flooded with the first memory you had of blood. You had scraped you knee and someone kissed it better…told you it would be alright and to keep playing. You remembered how smiling used to be so easy and not an invitation for people to think you were soft or easy. You remembered that girl who grew up and saw the best in people. Who had her likes and dislikes and didn’t base her personality on whatever someone wanted to see. You remembered her. And you remembered how he erased her. How he told her that he would keep her safe, but he betrayed that trust at every turn with a perfect lie or justification to draw her back in.
The blood surrounded your feet. Your eyes slowly sharpened, and without another thought, you rose your leg up and delivered a form kick to your ex’s limp side, shoving him a foot across the floor.
He looked so small now…so insignificant…and you felt the fear you had of him melt away, and hate take its place. Resentment, frustration, sadness…it all flooded in.
So you kicked him again.
You still hadn’t fully registered Lalo’s presence, and he was content with staying a part of the background as you began to show him this hidden part of you. Vicious. Vindictive. The parts of him that only the very unlucky saw- it was spectacular to see them mirrored back to him.
You were ruthless.
You kicked the body again, and again and again until he was shoved a few feet from where he had fallen, and there was a streak of blood in his wake. Tears began to stream down your cheeks and your skin felt as if it was burning. It was overwhelming as you beat him with every bit of energy you had left.
A pressure began to build in your chest, and you half wondered if you were going to throw up or pass out from how much you were feeling all at once, but then words formed on your tongue and you let them out.
“You SON OF A BITCH, YOU FUCKING RUINED ME.” Your broken cry filled the apartment, and Lalo’s eye twitched slightly at your raised voice. You were letting go. You were in a frenzy; overtaken by everything you never let yourself say or feel, “I don’t even know WHO THE FUCK I AM ANYMORE! YOU’RE BETTER DEAD YOU ROTTING FUCKER-“ you kicked and stomped and kicked again and again, even when your feet hurt. A snap sounded through the apartment but you were too far gone to realize it was his ribs snapping and caving in.
Blind rage had overtaken you. You couldn’t think as you continued your assault.
You didn’t see Lalo move- too focused on the body under you to notice him until a pair of strong hands grabbed your shoulders and pulled you away from the body- bloody footprints on the floor from where you staggered back.
“Okay, I think you got him.” Lalo laughed as he hauled you away.
But your adrenaline was still raging through in you. Regardless of his thick arms locked around you, you started squirming in his hold. Anger fuelled you and you fought to try and get back to the body. Needing to hurt him as much as he hurt you, but Lalo secured his arms around you better, and hoisted you away from your living room and into your small kitchen.
But still, you couldn’t think. All you knew was that someone was stopping you from getting back at the person who had destroyed you. It didn’t matter that it was Lalo Salamanca who was doing it, you didn’t even know it was him; he was just arms and a voice and you needed him to let you go.
Without thinking, you spun in his tight hold and hit him.
A smack right on his cheek.
Then all at once, you saw him.
The sting on the palm of your hand seemed to wake you up, and as Lalo dropped his arms to his sides, you saw exactly who had fired that gun…who had picked you up…who you had hit.
His grey curl hung over his forehead, and his mouth sat in a line under his neat moustache.
You might have been horribly startled by his stony face…but it was his eyes that made you keep from asking for forgiveness.
They were black, and they glittered in the low light.
But they weren’t furious.
There was a moment of silence that stretched for far longer that you knew how to measure; he was processing you. You and the smack.
“Again.”
You blinked, having not been sure if you had heard him correctly or if he had even spoken or if you had imagined it all. And evidently you weren’t functioning fast enough for Lalo’s liking.
The older man broke into a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes as he stared you down, “Okay, how about I put on his shirt and we play pretend-“
Smack.
You hit him again.
He smiled a little wider, “There she goes c’mon.” He goaded you.
So you did.
Smack.
Then it was like a dam broke. You started beating on him. You jabbed and punched and shoved and slapped his chest, and arms, and stomach. You hit him like your life depended on it. You hit him until your arms hurt more than your heart.
And the entire time, he didn’t move an inch; the man was sturdy enough that you weren’t doing any real damage to him. Even when four men he had called walked into the apartment and began breaking the body down, he didn’t say a word. He shot them a look that was more terrifying than a loaded gun to the balls, but that was it. He let you have your moment. And it was likely for the best- watching a man get sawed into pieces and bagged up was not an easy sight to behold.
It was only when he decided the men were taking too long that he slowly retrieved his gun from the back of his jeans and calmly pointed it at them without taking his eyes off you. They scampered out within minutes; just a drying puddle of blood left behind.
You didn’t even know how you were still moving your arms anymore. It was pure adrenaline fuelling you. Slowly your mind began to go hazy and dim…the extreme emotions slowly leaving you.
Then, you felt your arms stop responding as your wrists were restrained. You blinked and looked up from where you had been targeting, and were met with those onyx eyes.
They were locked on you- following your every twitch and move.
“Enough.”
His voice was a rumble that made your head light.
There was no smile on Lalo’s face, no mirth. He was focused and you couldn’t bring yourself to even breathe properly lest it make you move too much. A drop of dread fell from the base of your skull down to your toes and settled into the soles of your feet. You felt cold.
Then, the older man took a single step forward that made you stumble a little but you only looked away from him for a moment as you recovered. He took another, propelling you with him as he backed you against the wall between your livingroom and your kitchen. Your skin suddenly felt far too warm, and it tingled like pins and needles.
Lalo weighed your soul; his heavy gaze had you in shackles and you were helpless to try and get away from it. You had yet to see this amount of intensity from the man, and you were certain that he was preparing to end you. That he would take that pistol back out and fire a new hole into your head.
But the longer you stood there, the calmer you got- much to your surprise. You were still on edge, but your breathing came easier, and you let your gaze flick between his eyes, to the lines on his face, to his brows, his moustache, and that grey streak. Lalo pressed against you and the wall dug into your back but still you didn’t move. You let him invade your space and breathe your air, in fact you almost found yourself drawing him a little closer; pulling the wrists he held towards yourself. And to your surprise, you felt him push back, making your chest tight with how much pressure was on it with his weight. You could feel his breathing against you; every inhale and exhale.
His scent intoxicated you, as did his warmth. It made you forget how afraid you were, and lulled you. You could feel your heart just about beat out of your chest. However despite your sense of calm, you wouldn’t help but feel as if he was just a very cunning predatory making sure his prey wasn’t afraid before he pounced; making sure the meat wasn’t spoiled.
But then, a charming smile took over his face, and just like that, it was as if nothing had happened.
“Look what a mess you are! Let’s get you all cleaned, eh?” He chirped and stepped away from you.
You had jumped when he spoke, and felt yourself cool down almost instantly. Perhaps it was something akin to Stockholm syndrome but you felt yourself missing his chest crushing yours.
“Remind me to not get on your bad side,” he said in a jaunty laugh, “Man, you sure know how to knock a guy around. Damn.” Lalo touched his chest where you had been hitting, but didn’t stop smiling. His hands left you, and he began navigating through your apartment easily, like he had been there before. The older man hummed an old tune as he entered your washroom, and began looking through the cupboards; you were about to wonder what he was doing as your brain played catch-up, but you remembered him saying he was going to clean you up…whatever that meant.
Everything still felt so surreal to you. You stared down at your hands, and the flecks of blood there, wondering if any of it had even happened or if you were having a dream. It wasn’t until you blinked a few times and focused on breathing that you remembered that you were still in your less then modest sleep clothes. You looked around for something to cover yourself a little better, but you missed your opportunity when Lalo came striding back to you, perfectly comfortable in the space like it was a Sunday afternoon in his own home.
“Okaay…” he said to himself as he put down the supplies he had grabbed. Just as you looked at the materials, he wordlessly hoisted you up onto your kitchen counter. You gasped a little, but he seemed unbothered as he ignored your squirming and stood between your knees. You watched his large hand grab a wetted cloth and start wiping away at your skin; you were covered in blood and sweat. The older man cleaned you carefully and meticulously; he tutted the split skin and the harsh bruises forming, shaking his head at particularly bad ones. He gave you a scolding look when you nervously held your shirt down when he tried to lift it to inspect your ribs- tilting his head and pursing his mouth as if to chastise you.
So you let him. He was gentlemanly enough to only raise it to look at your torso…making sure nothing was broken. Lucky for you, nothing was. Bruised, yes, but not broken. Regardless of your luck, you forced yourself to ignore how warm his calloused hands were when they pressed down on your ribs. Oddly gentle. Comforting.
Once he deemed you clean enough, Lalo began dragging cotton pads soaked in peroxide over your cuts; he shushed you when the chemical stung too much.
Everything seemed so calm. There was no screaming, no sirens or things being thrown. It was late…and it was quiet. It was just you and him in your small kitchen; it was as if he had blocked out what you had done just a half hour earlier- beating and shoving at him like he was a punching bag.
You found yourself watching him carefully, half expecting him to break the act and snap your ankle as he inspected it, or spit in your face and hold a gun to your temple. But he didn’t even show a slight sign of ill intent. He just continued to bandage you.
There was no doubt in you that you were in deep debt to the Salamancas now. And while you were fairly naive to it, you knew that such a thing was practically a death sentence. Lalo had killed for you whether you wanted him to or not. He had saved you. There was no coming back from that.
Regardless of the weight settling on your shoulders, there was a calmness you felt as his warmth radiated into you from standing so close to you. You could feel his breath on your skin and all you could smell was him; smoke and some kind of spice, and a little tequila or whiskey. It was in his clothes and his skin. Everywhere. His touch was like a brand- scorching your skin.
There was a gash on your arm from where your ex had come at you with a knife; Lalo cleaned the blood away, and pressed down to see how deep it was. You jerked at the pain, but he tsked you and his large hand gripped you tighter, “Ah ah, hold still.” He murmured.
Your eyes flickered over his face, and you worried the inside of your lip, “S-sorry.” You said softly.
A simple but not altogether peaceful silence filled the space as another few minutes passed as he wrapped your arm. The only noise that ended it was the phone in his pocket ringing. You jumped at the sound, while Lalo merely blinked and pulled the device out and held it to his ear as he checked over your face.
The older man brought a hand up to your chin, and tilted your head side to side while inspecting you. You let him, moving your head as he wished.
“Buen.” He rumbled, and you held his gaze, intimidating as it was. Then, he pulled the phone away and snapped it shut before slipping it back into his pocket.
Lalo squinted at a mark on your cheek, and grabbed the cloth again to wipe it.
“Moron beat the shit outta you…” he remarked almost to himself.
You nodded, and smiled a tiny bitter smile as he signed and tossed the closed into the sink; wrappers from bandages and blots of blood on the counter.
“I used to love him…” you whispered, “Turned out to be a real piece of work…” you smiled again, just briefly, in spite of the pain and shock, “He hated life…and life hated him back…” you were just rambling and thinking out loud, but Lalo listened. Perhaps you were boring him a little, but he was curious about exactly who he was dealing with.
You remembered something then, “Did you know he hated Mexican food? Claimed paprika was spicy.”
Lalo gasped and widened his eyes comically. “No! Estoy jodidamente contento de que esté muerto entonces…” he shook his head.
You snorted and laughed dryly, nodding your head.
Then, after a moment, you looked over at the drying blood on the floor. You flinched at the memory of him forcing his way into your home…how horrifying it was to see him so suddenly. But the longer you looked, the less you felt. In you peripheral, you could see Lalo crumpling the bandage wrappers in his hand.
“Thank you.” You whispered.
Lalo looked up at you then, and followed your gaze, but you spoke again before he could reply.
“I-…I think I would have done the same, you know.”
This made him pause for a moment.
“If I- if I found someone threatening you or Hector…and I had a gun…I would have done the same.” You knew they weren’t the words of a completely sane person but you said them anyways.
Lalo laughed, “Big talk for a mouse!” He smiled wolfishly.
You stared back at him. “I mean it.”
You realized that you really did mean it. You knew that somehow you were so far gone that you would let blood get on your hands for them. But somehow that didn’t scare you.
The older man shifted and leaned forward between your knees again- bracing himself on his hands as he placed them on either side of you. He was invading your space again, but you held firm. There was no room left in you for fear. You were exhausted and aching.
“You trying to tell me little ratoncito would kill for a Salamanca?” He had an amused smile on his face, but you noted his emotionless eyes- like he was daring you to take back what you said.
A part of you was telling you to- to say you didn’t mean it and tell him you wouldn’t tell anyone what had transpired there that night. But that part of you was stupid, and you were not stupid. Not that stupid. You knew that was a one way ticket to an early grave, so you nodded your weary head.
“Don’t know how good of a shot I am but it’s the thought that counts right?” Your mouth quirked up a little at your horrible joke. You supposed it was a stress reaction to cope.
And Lalo laughed. A single bark of a laugh. “I am so glad you’re funny ninita.” He wagged his finger at you. His face had been so firm as you explained yourself, that now seeing him smile set you a little at ease. The older man pulled away from breathing your air and walked to the sink to wash his hands,“Now what are we going to do about this?” He asked casually.
His question was simple, but it made your heart thump hard. “About?” You asked.
Lalo looked brightly at you as he dried his hands. “You want to say thank you to me, sì?”
You stared at him and you knew there was only one answer. “Of course.” You said.
Lalo smiled. “Esa es mi chica.”
He grabbed one of the two chairs from your small table, and turned it around for him to sit. He spread his knees and leaned forward onto them as he weighed your existence with those brown eyes of his. There was only the faint tapping of water dripping from the faucet as Lalo regarded you- still sat on your kitchen counter. Bruised and battered. Alive thanks to him.
“That cute stunt you pulled at Los Pollos Hermanos…can you do it again?” He asked, lacing his fingers together in front of him. The picture of ease and calm.
“Yes.” You didn’t miss a beat. You had come to terms with the fact that you would do what you did again if need be a while ago.
“Bigger?” He asked.
Your stomach twisted a little. The idea made you nervous, but you knew you could do it.
“Yes.” You answered.
Lalo smiled again and wagged a finger at you. “Ratoncito loco, lo juro...”
You didn’t return the smile, but your face softened. “I’ve been called worse.” You mused, then looked back down at your hand and the blue bruises turning to purple.
The older man didn’t say anything, but he watched you while you fiddled with a bandage and absentmindedly swung your feet slightly.
He looked at you properly in the dim light of your simple apartment. You weren’t frail per se, but you had a certain exhaustion to you that scratched an itch in Lalo’s mind. A tiredness of the world you knew, of the people around you, of who you had become. Yet in spite of that, there was a firecracker inside you waiting to burst into flame; you had a bite to you, even if it was small. Lalo could work with that.
The blood wasn’t as difficult to get out of your floor as you thought it would be.
Your landlady thankfully didn’t put up too much of an argument when you told her you were leaving and breaking your tenancy. You had a feeling it wasn’t just her being nice.
The motel room you were now living out of wasn’t horrible. The extra couple hundreds Lalo had given you when he told you where to stay helped too. Sure the commute to work was a little longer but it wasn’t like you had a choice.
Your eyes were a little more glazed over at work now. You wondered how much longer you would be there. That night, Lalo had given you a date and time and location for your repayment, and now you were counting down the days. It was only a few, but time seemed to pass so quickly and so slowly simultaneously.
Your instructions were fairly simple, in theory. Make the buildings power short circuit if Lalo didn’t call you by 11:42pm. Following that and your escape, you were to go to new motel, and lay low for a few days until you got more instructions.
That or you assumed someone would show up to clean you up as a lose end.
He didn’t tell you why he give you such a specific time, but you assumed there was some kind of shift change over for security at 11:45pm, and wanted those three minutes to carry out some kind of plan B.
Which was why your knee bounced as you see as t in your car across from some massive laundry facility. As you waited, you scanned over the blueprints to the building that you had managed to get from city hall. Evidently a forced smile had been enough to get the clerk to hand it over, and a pouty lip and claiming to be a stressed collage student with a paper due to let you take it home. Once upon a time you would have wanted to wretch at the thought of having done that, but somehow you found yourself…indifferent. Like a part of your anxiety died that night with your ex.
The service road was dim, and your pulse was working double time.
You checked your watch. It read 11:25pm.
A part of you wondered exactly what was set to happen inside that building, but you assumed it could mean your death if you asked. Somewhere in your gut you knew it was an attempt to destroy that man from Los Pollos…it couldn’t be a coincidence that Lalo had asked you to do exactly what you had done again for someone else when he had been so pleased with seeing that restaurant crumble.
So you gathered what you needed and shoved it into a small pouch, said a prayer, and got out of your car. You knew it was a 50/50 chance of Lalo calling you to stop you, but you needed to be ready. If you were only halfway there when he called it might be a big enough mistake that would cost him his life.
It was a fairly quick trip to the building, albeit a stressful one. The fence surrounding the warehouse was thankfully not electrified, though it was still very uncomfortable to scale. A day previously you had managed to find a low point that would be easier to get back over when you were escaping too.
As you waiter for the rotation of guards to get to their blind point, you leapt up and rolled yourself over the top of the metal fence, landing with a fairly ungrateful thud and a cloud of dust that was thankfully covered by the darkness.
You crouched low, and held onto the strap of your pouch. There were men everywhere watching, but you were small and unassuming in the shadows. You hoped you could channel that inner mouse that Lalo claimed you had, though it was a long shot. With another breath, you pulled your medical mask up over your face’s lower half as you sped from one shadow to another. It was an odd atmosphere there- you felt as if you were walking into Area 51. It was deserted and eerie aside from the security. You might have not been to a laundry processing warehouse before but you sure as shit were certain that this level of security was odd.
You clung to the side of the building; your heart in your ears. Time was on your side for once, as you checked your watch again, and noted that you still had 7 minutes before you potentially had to clip and cross and overload the building’s wiring. Perhaps you spoke a little soon though as you had begun to go a little too fast towards the back of the building and missed getting spotted by a man by a centimetre. The toes of your shoes stuck out of the thin shadow that concealed you, but evidently they weren’t enough to draw the attention of the guard. You thanked god for the emergency ladder beside you for partially hiding you too.
You found the back entrance and worked your way along to find the main control panel. Shadows moved out of the corner of your eye, making your mind play tricks on you, and you felt chills run up and down your spine; then you found it. The panel came into view, and you checked the area around you once more as you opened your bag. There were three thick locks over the latches that opened the door, and you sighed as you looked at them. Your metal tools felt very cold in your hands.
There was no going back now.
You slipped your picking tools inside the first lock, began pressuring the mechanisms inside of the lock. You were still rusty, but your life was on the line, so you didn’t have room for a botched job. After a few minutes, you felt the device click and pop open- relief filled you. It was short lived though when you remembered that you had a maximum of 5 minutes before the next rotation of guards began their way to you.
The thought of getting caught made your hands shake, but not as much as the thought of the Salamancas coming after you. You worked at the next lock and focused on sleeping in a dry motel that night instead of your body being tossed into a shallow grave or left in the desert like some insignificant roadkill.
The second lock popped open after a few moments, and you checked your watch.
11:40pm.
As the time grew closer to when you might need to blow this building's circuits, you felt an odd clarity come over you- tinkering away at the last lock. You might have been in danger. You might have been caught up in a cartel. You might have been alone. You might have been a witness to a murder.
But you weren’t afraid. Disturbed by your possible fate, perhaps, but not afraid. You were exhausted of being afraid all the time.
The lock popped open, and you stared at it calmly.
You have a job to do.
The metal door opened with a screech, and you enhaled deeply when you saw the massive circuit-board and hundreds of fuses, and wires wrapped and bound together. You were certain your ex was calling you a hypocrite from his place Hell.
You checked your watch again.
11:42pm.
You sucked in another breath, and stared at your shaking hands like it might help to stop the tremors. It didn’t.
The silence was heavy around you, and you stood in it for another second before your little alarm went off.
"Okay..." You whispered to yourself. Your mask made your breath feel moist and hot. Your hands took purchase on your wire cutters and pliers, and you stared at some weak points. You wanted the fuses to blow on their own, so you started with flipping off and switches with wires connected that you wanted to clip or mess with. Lights shut off around you, but there was enough for you to see what you were doing as you reworked some of the wire positions, and clipped and tugged. Then once you were satisfied, you took a deep breath and turned every single switch on. For any building, it was t advised for every power-drawer to be on at once if unnecessary…for good reason. There was a low hum that began to emit from the panel. The tampered fuses and wiring forcing more and more strain on other areas so they would start tripping.
A spark startled you. Then another. Then another. You watched the entire panel start to malfunction. Then, there were shouts of panic around the building as a power grid shut off in the lot, which you took that as your cue to run.
With your pliers and white cutters in your bag, you shut the panel door and locked it back up in record time. Then, you faced the fence, and ran.
You didn't care that the lights were shutting down all around you. All you knew was you had instructions, and you were certainly going to follow them. You came to the edge of the front of the building and paused in the shadows as groups of men scattered around the dusty lot. Your heart was racing in your chest, but you could see your car just beyond the light, and you expected some kind of relief to wash over you but it didn’t come. Instead, there was a deep pit forming in your stomach.
Lalo hadnt called you.
Of course you hoped that it was simply because his plan went accordingly and having the cover of darkness and chaos was what he needed and...not that it was because he had been shot and bled out before he could call you. The idea that he might have met the fate that you had dreaded for yourself suddenly made you-
Ring ring ring
You froze.
The quiet ring tone made you scramble to answer your phone before it attracted attention. You pulled it from your jacket and wrenched your mask down to breathe when you saw the number.
His.
The same number he had put on a piece of paper for you a month ago.
A million and a half thoughts went through your head as you stared down at the little screen, but the only one you could focus on was the possibility that Lalo was in trouble. That he needed you.
You hit answer, and held the phone to your ear. "Hello?" You whispered, pressing yourself against the side of the building.
There was a strained breath on the other end. "You busy, princesita?"
You couldn’t breathe. He wasnt supposed to call you. That was never a part of any plan he told you.
"No." You managed to get out, eyes unfocused as you tried to remember the blueprints of the building.
"Mind giving me a hand?" He asked just as carefree as he always was, but you knew better. There was a tightness to his voice. He was hurt. Badly too, if he was calling you.
"Wh-where are you?" You asked, already searching for your flashlight in your bag as another few light grids shut off around you.
"You’re- mierda...You’re gonna come in through the main door, okay? Th-through the door with the window... At the end- ah...end of those washers and shit, theres gonna be a door behind one..." He coughed, and you heard him suck in a breath.
You nodded frantically to yourself as you recalled the drawing of the building. Seems that Chicken man was up bro more than just a restaurant. "Okay, okay I- I remember where that is. I’m coming just- just dont die!" You said in a rush.
"Klah! Me? Never." You heard him say, but you were already flipping the phone shut. Lights were flickering like mad as you began inching around to the front of the building, and your eyes began playing tricks on you as they strained to function in the changing a brightness.
To your luck, the front was almost devoid of security as they all ran to the back or inside. You heard radios going off and yells and orders being barked out, but somehow no one saw you.
You crept along the blue facility until you made it to the door. It sat open, and you didn’t waste any time as you slipped inside past the massive bins.
You were alone. For now.
You clicked on your flashlight and you were indeed surrounded by massive industrial washers. It was admittedly overwhelming, but you forced your brain to focus. You looked at each end of the main walkway of the processing room just as Lalo had told you to, and you noticed that a washer at one end was off kilter. You didn’t have time yo weigh the pros and cons of choosing to investigate it, but when you went to run, the sound of footsteps halted you. You clicked off your flashlight.
"The hell is going on in there- this shits supposed to be secure..." You heard a ma n say, and a grumble from another man. You looked around and ducked behind one of the washers; evidently just in time too as the men passed by you just several feet away.
“Where the hell is Mike?” One asked.
You let out a relieved breath when they didn’t turn around or stop to check on your heavy breathing, but it caught in your throat when you saw the guns in their belts glint in the little light. The very real situation that you had just ran into settled into your mind. That you were in the middle of a very messy cartel issue. Something that even Lalo hadn’t meant for you to get mixed in.
You waited until they left, and it grew quiet again before you flicked your light on again, and made a break for the washer. You hoped to god that you weren't too late in your search.
The amount of sound from your feet was too loud, but you didn’t dare stop. You hoped no one would care in the chaos you had created. The sound of other footsteps began to echo around you and you felt a weight on your chest like you were running from a loaded gun but you didn’t look back.
When you were just feet away, you saw the edge of a hidden door. You internally rejoiced, but it was short-lived when you remembered a man might be dying. You whipped around the corner of it, and followed the route of the stairs down. You didn’t have time to consider you might be going the wrong way, so you clamoured down as fast and quietly as you humanly could. Your feet were surprisingly soundless as you inched along the catwalks and flashed your light here and there along the scaffolding.
*What the hell is this place...*
Your heart was in your throat. You could smell dirt and machinery-
You stopped. A sound caught your ears, and you listened for it again. There- a wheeze.
"S-Señor Lalo?" You whispered, creeping down the steps, flashing your light across the expansive space.
You continued down, down, down until you were at the second to last flight of stairs when you jumped and almost fell back. Your flashlight caught a sight that chilled you.
"Eh…Hola niñita, fancy seeing you here!"
Just a couple feet down from you sat the very man who had called you. Your blood went cold when you saw Lalo laying there on the stairs with blood seeping out of his side and neck where he was pressing down.
"L-Lalo-" You whispered, rooted to the spot. Not even the sight of your ex shot dead had rendered you so motionless.
"Not to rush you princesa, but I’ve felt better." He forced out, glancing down at his side that was getting more saturated with blood by the second.
Your senses suddenly went into hyperdrive, and you almost jumped down the couple steps to crouch at his side. You placed your flashlight into the crook of your neck and held it there with your cheek as you pulled his hand from his jugular. A little relief filled you when you noted that the artery wasn’t hit and the bullet just skimmed him.
"Okay, you’re okay." You muttered to him, "Lets get you up."
You were so focused as you started positioning yourself for some leverage that you missed the fact that his eyes hadn't left you. Then he sighed and waved you off.
"Need...the camera..." He rumbled and pointed down.
You stared at him in confusion then followed his finger and held your light again to follow the beam.
Sure enough, 20 feet below you in the dirt was a camcorder.
You nodded silently, not even considering the possibility of arguing, and leapt over him before clamouring down the stairs. Your feet hit dirt and you looked around frantically for the device. The metal caught the light of your flashlight, and as you sped over to it, tried to ignore the various trails of blood in the soil. You grasped the camera and slipped it into your pouch along side your other supplies as you scaled the stairs, light jumping with every step.
As you came back to his side, you wordlessly gripped Lalo’s hand and elbow, and gingerly began to help him stand; you had expected him to wince or protest, but all you heard was him groan a little and wave you off like a fly.
"Shit shot..." He rumbled.
You looked at him as you ignored his gesture, and guided him up, "Wh-"
"Chicken Man he was a shit fucking shot...could’ve at least killed me. Now look at me…" He shook his head like he was more disappointed than distressed.
You huffed out a stressed laugh and looked back at him, then swore under your breath.
"What? I look that bad?" He joked.
You shook your head and moved your flashlight to your mouth and your pressed your free hand to his neck as it continued to gush. He was paler and paler by the second.
"Step." You muttered, again you ignored any of his attempts to be independent, and together you began your ascent up the narrow metal stairs.
His pace was determined and you briefly wondered if he was human as he seemed to ignore his wounds. Your steps fell into sync, and you were thankful for the silence between you as you tried to figure out what the hell you were going to do. As you reached the top of the stairs, you mentally began to map out the building in your head in relation to where you were. You couldn't just walk out the front door, and you couldn’t use the back exit either; no doubt there were men stationed at every exit…
You hesitated slightly just inside hidden door, and thought for a moment. You could hear voices outside, and footsteps...the place was crawling with people. With guns.
Your mind worked overtime and while you couldn't think of a perfect solution, you had one that would hopefuly end with the least amount of bullets in you. Without another thought, you flicked off your light and looked at Lalo as darkness engulfed you. Just like you, he didnt say a word. He knew you were thinking- keeping your word that you would effectively put yourself in harms way for him.
You stuck your head out briefly to see how clean the path was, and once you were satisfied, you sucked in a breath and looked back at the older man by your side. He nodded down at you as best he could and the two of you took a step out into the laundry facility.
You both crept along one of the washers, and glanced out at the room. A person came around the corner of one of the machines, flashlight in hand and you quickly moved the two of you back. Lalo hissed at the quick movement, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care enough. The footsteps came and went, as did a few others along with shouting. You chanced a glance out again, and this time, you went for it.
"Cmon." You whispered.
Lalo let you take his arm, and you guided him along the machines to a service hall where it was less exposed. You could hear people running , and tires screeching outside and orders being barked out, but all you could do was focus on letting your eyes adjust to the darkness and making sure you didn’t trip or take a wrong turn. Once you were halfway down the hall, a door opened at the other end, and you felt bile rise in your throat. You acted on instict and pressed Lalo into the nearest open door and held your breath. You couldn’t see him clearly, but you could feel Lalo’s warm chest rising and falling against you. You watched the flashlight of the person bob around out in the hall beyond the door and prayed that the person wouldn’t look in the doorway.
Your muscles seazed up as you waited and held your breath...then the person was gone. You breathed out and quickly grabbed the older man and began the last leg of the journey. You shouldered open the door at the end, and sure enough, there was an exit up to the roof. You looked around vaguly at the dark room and noted that there were no windows, and turned your light back on.
"You first Señor." You said and nodded to the ladder. Lalo stared at you, hard.
Then he nodded, and began hoisting himself up the ladder. You shone your light up for him to see where he was going and waited until he was at the top before following behind him quickly. At the top, you wrenched the small door open and almost fell out onto the roof. You looked around, and appreciated that there was a little light from neighbouring warehouses illuminating the outside. You whipped your head around and began looking for the ladder down like you had hid behind when you blew the fuze box. Sure enough, across the roof, you saw the first few steps and you nodded towards it for Lalo to see. The two of you took off and kept low. You could see cars exiting and entering the gate and you swore under your breath. So much for a clear path.
"How bad a shape are you in, Señor?" You muttered to him.
Lalo smiled out a hoarse laugh and scanned with you. "Should see the other guy.” He replied, and you looked over at him. He shot you a wink and you felt your eye twitch.
You sighed, and nodded and pointed to where you had managed to get over the fence, "Theres a low part in the fence there...we might get seen, but...I think we'll at least be able to get away." It looked so far away now, especially since you were on another part of the roof.
Lalo nodded and started towards the ladder before you could even check that the coast was clear.
You tried to halt him, "Wait-"
But he already took your hand and dragged you down with him over the rungs of the latter, almost completely foregoing them. You scrambled down after him, and landed beside him just in time for a flashlight to shine over the roof.
As you stood there together, you saw Lalo sway for a moment, then recover with steely eyes as if nothing had happened. You knew he wasn’t doing well, but you had a feeling he would die before he showed any sign of weakness…hell you were certain he would die with a smile on his face if he could.
The two of you stayed low for a moment as you scanned the lot, and it seemed as if you both came to the same conclusion: there was no way you could wait for a perfect moment.
“I’m ready when you are Señor.” You whispered almost reassuringly up to him, then glanced down at his neck that still had a stream of blood coming from it, albeit small. You still didn’t know how he was running around with two bullet wounds.
Lalo remained still for a second as another guard ran past the two of you, then reached into the back of his belt, under his jacket. He produced a gun- the same one you had seen him use that night when he…
“You know how to shoot one of these?” He asked as he pressed it into your palm. You stared down at it. It was heavier than you though it would be.
“I- I know the general idea.” You said, holding it in your hand.
Lalo pressed his hand back to his bleeding side and groaned slightly. “Two hands. One to aim one to steady, okay? Point and shoot. Easy.” He nodded when you had it right. “Vamos.” He rumbled, and began your break from the safety of the shadows.
Having the gun in your hand made you feel both vulnerable and dangerous simultaneously. You scanned as you ran, and just when you began to hope you didn’t have to fire the weapon, you saw a man round the corner of the building just behind you, and you stopped running without a second thought. You aimed, and you shot.
The gun’s recoil made you jump and you watched as the man fell and a spurt of blood came from his back as the bullet winged him.
You heard Lalo bark out a single laugh, “Mi niñita loca…a natural!”
Your ears were ringing. Your feet moved you toward him as you tore your eyes from the groaning man on the ground, and kept your steady pace towards the fence. It came quicker than you thought, though you gathered that the fact that you were still reeling from having just shot a man had something to do with it.
“You first Señor.” You rushed out as you both came to a stop; managing to turn the safety on the gun before stuffing the gun into your pouch.
Lalo didn’t argue, though he did fix you with an intense stare before he pulled himself up the bars with more ease than you thought possible, especially considering his injury. You wondered what it would take to slow him down…
He landed with a thud and a cloud of dust on the other side.
“Vamos, niñita.” He said, beckoning you over with both hands.
You nodded and sucked in a breath and jumped up to grab the top of the fence, and let the adrenaline do the rest of the work. You pulled yourself up and as you situated yourself to jump down, you felt something whizz past your head. Things went quiet and your ears rang. You whipped your head and looked behind you; sure enough, there where two men approaching you with their guns raised. You blinked, then you jumped. Lalos hands were on your waist to guide you down, but all you could see was his paling complexion.
Another few shots were fired, hitting the fence.
You brain kicked back into gear just enough to grab his hand and run to your car with Lalo. You wrench open the door the door for him then ran to the drivers side as another bullet was fired.
You pulled your keys out and forced your hands to cooperate for a moment as you started it up and hit the gas without hesitation. A few more shots were fired behind you, but you peeled out of there before they could do any damage.
It wasn’t until you had been driving for five minutes, taking twists and turns that would get you several speeding and hazardous driving tickets if you were caught, that you finally looked over at the man beside you. He was pressing against his neck and side, and you flickered your gaze over him.
“Y-you’re bleeding-“ you said. It was a dumb thing to say, but it was all you could get out. “I…I need to- we need to get you somewhere…I can’t- no no hospital…do you know anyone? I- I can probably stitch your neck but…”your voice cracked.
“You have to calm down, Jesus Christ… I’m the one dying here.” He rasped.
Your panicking self turned to him sharply and you made a split second decision. “You’re not going to die.”
You turned the car around far too harshly and sped off into the city. You needed more civilization. More people. Being alone would kill the both of you.
You drove to the motel you had booked ahead of time to lay low in after that night, and as you pulled to a stop outside, your hands began to shake uncontrollably. The breaths you took came shakily too.
You didn’t even see the rare look of pride on Lalo’s face- you had done good. He was impressed.
But all you could do was succumb to your adrenaline and panic as they mixed. “You lost so much blood…g-god I should have found you faster, I’m sorry…I gotta get you inside- I have a kit in the trunk, I-I can patch you up-“
You were cut off when Lalo reached over to you with his good arm, and gripped the back of your head and yanked you over the middle console and kissed you. Everything stopped. Your breathing, your words, your heart, your brain, time…everything. You could taste him as his warm tongue flicked against yours when you gasped. It was fast and hard, but you were left stunned as he pulled away. Lalo stared at you, and just as he had hoped, you reset.
You blinked.
Once.
Twice.
“O-okay…” you whispered, eyes refocusing. “Let’s get you inside.” You were on auto pilot as you opened your door and grabbed the first aid kit from the back and the bag you had packed when you left your apartment almost a week ago. As you were about to cross over to the motel, you stopped Lalo quickly and began buttoning up his jacket for a little extra coverage of his bloodstains. Lalo regarded you calmly and carefully, a tiny grin pulling at his mouth.
“I loved this jacket…” he rumbled, regarding the stain forming, “Really comfortable, y’know?”
Once you were satisfied, you led him to the room you had booked, and took out the key they had given you two days ago.
You turned the key and swung the door open before helping the man in and sitting him down and kicking the door shut. You dumped your things down and crouched as you began unbuttoning his jacket. The red stain confronted you again when you pushed the fabric off his broad shoulders. You stared at it, then you heard him tut you.
“Se agradecería un poco de entusiasmo.” He was aloof, but his words were beginning to slur. He wasn’t doing well.
You jumped and snapped back to yourself as you began to frantically undo his dress-shirt.
“You’re okay. You’re okay.” You muttered, though you weren’t sure if it was for him or for yourself.
His nice shirt came apart, all sticky from the blood, and you were faced with his soaked skin, and angry wound. Your head went light.
You remembered patching your ex up one night after a bar fight…but nothing that bad. It had been a cut from a pocket knife, not two bullet wounds.
There was no time for you to fall apart though. You were going to make this right even if it was the last thing you did.
You ran to the bathroom and filled the motel ice bucket with warm water and a glass with cold. When you came back, Lalo was forcing himself to stay awake- eyelids heavy. You grabbed every towel you could, and knelt at his feet again.
“Ey, there she is…” he rumbled.
You felt your lips pull into a nervous grin as if trying to see his humour.
“You’re gonna be okay…I’m- I’m gonna fix this-…” Your voice was unsteady though you tried your best to stay calm for him.
You dipped one of the towels into warm water and began dabbing away the blood by his side as best as you could; your stomach flipped at the sight of his torn flesh, but you weren’t about to pass out or back down.
“L-lay back, here.” You grabbed a few pillows and guided him to lay down, and as you went back to wiping his neck and side clean, you watched him try to say lucid. He did a profound job of keeping his breathing steady and you had a brief wonder of how many times he had been shot or worse. You brought a towel to his side and pressed down. Then you felt a surge of panic when you realized you hadn’t given him anything for the pain. “Shit! I’m- I’m sorry you- I didn’t give you anything.” You wrenched the kit open and shakily looked for anything that might help him. You found a small bottle of Tylenol, and though you weren’t certain how effective it would be, you grabbed two and the clean glass of water.
“Open.” You forced out, and placed the pills on his tongue and held the glass to his lips. Your hands shook and you spilled a little, but you focused on remaining calm.
You set the water down once he swallowed and took another towel, then went to his neck where you wiped more blood away. It was just a gash, but needed stitches. You felt your heart beat in your throat, and you wanted so badly to break down, but you couldn’t. You rifled through the kit and found the sutures, a new needle pack and the holder and forceps, and set them on the bed. You wiped the area again, and took a shuttered breath.
“Hey…”
You felt tears well in your eyes.
“Niñita.” Came his voice again.
You blinked and grabbed the needle pack and ripped it open with your teeth. The needle fell into your hand, and you took another breath.
“Y/n.”
You jumped and looked up. Lalo was staring right at you, eyelids heavy.
“You need to stay calm.” He rumbled, “Can’t let me get fucked up, sì?”
You sobbed out a laugh.
“You’re horrible.” You whispered, and sniffled.
“Everybody loves me.” He smiled dazed.
You took a few more breaths and thought of something that made you sober quickly. You thought of what Hector would have done to you if he found out you let his favourite nephew die.
With that in mind, you knelt beside him on the bed; you wiped and dried the wound on his neck again quickly, and pushed his flesh back together to start stitching
“Easy there tiger.” He groaned.
You sighed and brought the threaded needle to his skin, and you pushed in. The feeling of the needle going through his skin made your stomach churn.
His eye twitched, but he didn’t move as you slowly stitched him up. You hoped to god that you weren’t making this worse than it was already was, and thanked god that you had seen several medical shows on late night television years ago…
You finished the wound, and you sighed in relief as you tied a knot for the remaining thread. It wasn’t perfect, but the wound was holding together and he was barely bleeding anymore.
You cleaned the surrounding area one more time, and looked at your patient. He was staring at nothing, but he was awake. You wanted to stop and check on him, but you knew time was not something you had plenty of. With that in mind, you shuffled gingerly down the mattress to the other bullet hole, and cleaned away the entrance wound. There was no way you were going to try and remove a bullet. Certainly you had seen it done in movies but you were not about to do it to a man on deaths door, not when it meant it could cause him to bleed out. You replaced the towel that had become sodden with blood, and pressed down on the crisp white fabric. A warm blot of blood began to seep through and you felt your heart sink down into your ankles.
You were horrified that you had to sniffle a little, tears threatening to well up. You watched his face carefully; he was unbelievably strong willed. He practically refused to lose consciousness. His skin was pale and his eyes were heavy yet still he was awake and watching you from his propped up perch.
“I know a guy…” he rumbled. Suddenly.
You jumped and looked at him, surprised that he spoke. “Tell me how to reach him.” You said, already reaching for his jacket to find his phone.
“Second to last number…he’ll know who it is…” He might have been lacking blood, but Lalo still managed to sound just as confident and aloof as always.
You scrolled down and found the number, and pressed it without another thought. It rang twice before a man answered it.
“Where?” Came the voice.
You wanted to double check that he knew who you were calling for…but you had a feeling this man wasn’t just some guy who forgot who Lalo Salamanca was.
You gave him the address, simple and concise. He didn’t say thank you, or double check, and somehow you found that comforting. You snapped the phone shut, and placed it back in his pocket.
“He’s coming…it…its going to be okay…” you whispered. You wondered how many times that phone had been used to take a life with a simple order.
You looked down at the towel on his side, and lifted it gently to check the bleeding. It was still coming. You grabbed one of the spare pillows and wordlessly began unbuckling Lalo’s belt.
“I know you wanna help there princesita, but I don’t think right now is the best time for a bl-“
You ripped the belt from the loops and pressed the pillow to his side, making him groan and shut his mouth fast. It wasn’t perfect, but you managed to get the belt under his back and around his waist and over the pillow to fasten it to his side, tight. The pressure would help the bleeding better than your hands, and you leaned back once you got it tight enough.
You heart rate had slowed, and now seeing him a little more repaired, you looked at him properly. His eyes were closed, and it didn’t hit you for a moment that him being lax could be a horrible thing. Then your blood went cold.
You shot up out of your seat beside him and leaned over his chest.
"L...Lalo?" You whispered.
Nothing.
You feel lightheaded. You pressed your ear to his chest, and his heartbeat was faint. The tips of your fingers felt cold.
"Lalo!" Your voice broke, but again, there was no response.
Your eyes began to well with tears, and you broke.
"You motherfucker I'm neck deep in this shit, and I cant get myself out without you!" You cried out and slapped his thick chest.
You stared at his face for a moment, dread filling you.
Then, the corner of his mouth tugged.
“Awh, you mean it?” Came his low voice, his eyes still closed.
You felt your hands tingle as the urge to slap him filled you. It was like he could feel it. Lalo smirked slightly.
“C’mon I know you want to…what just because I’m half dead you’re going soft?” He goaded you.
You clenched your jaw and sighed. His mouth tugged again, though his eyes remained closed. Eventually his face went lax, and his breathing became even and slow. You called his name once more, but when he didn’t answer you gathered he was sleeping. You hoped against hope that the guy you had called would be there soon, but you supposed only time would tell.
In his dazed slumber, Lalo murmured a name or two…and you found yourself getting dizzy with sleep the longer you watched him.
You didn’t know when you fell asleep, but when you woke up, your head was down on the bed in your arms- just where you had been as you watched over him.
You looked up, and and stilled when you saw those large, glittering black eyes staring back at you, fully awake and very alive.
“Ahh she awakens.” He rasped.
You sat up and rubbed your head, taking him in.
He was sat, clean and reclined on the bed. There was a neat bandage over his side, and a smaller one over his neck, along with a couple brown bags where he kept reaching and eating from on the side table
“What…” you tried to say. You had expected to be awoken by the man knocking to get in the room, so how in the hell had he gotten in-
“Hm? Other guy took too long…called in a favour. Didn’t feel like dying yet.” He said as he pulled out a water from one of the bags for you. He dangled it in front of your face.
“I-oh…thank you.” You slowly took the water, and drank from it. You couldn’t remember when you last had water.
“Chicken man thinks he got me…we’ll stay here for a while…” Lalo rumbled.
You nodded, “I- I have the room booked for another two nights…um- I can see if I can get another one for you…if you want some priva-“
“Nah.” He dismissed you. But he said it with that easy grin of his as he looked at the shitty motel room service brochure. There was a warm silence to the room as you sat there with him. You sipped at your water, and slowly stood up, wincing at your back.
Lalo was flipping through one of the brochures of Albuquerque and chuckling every so often. Evidently he thought the touristic sights were amusing. It all seemed so surreal again, just like that night in your apartment as he patched you up.
Then, as you stood there in a daze, you. Suddenly realised how disgusting you felt. Blood and sweat and dirt was caked to you. You quietly went to the washroom and splashed some cold water on your face. You looked a mess. With Lalo more stable, you walked outside and grabbed the bag you had, and went back to the washroom to shower. You bagged up the clothes you had worn, and climbed inside the stall. The warm water washed over you, and you felt tears run down your face as the stress broke out of you. You sobbed quietly into your hand, and let the blood and dirt drain away.
It wasn’t long, but it was enough to help you settle back into your body.
Once you were finished, you dried your hair and put on some clean clothes; you forgot how wonderful it felt to be scrubbed clean. Your head felt a little light, but clear.
When you came out, Lalo was staring out the front window, and slipping a new, clean shirt onto one arm. You watched his back flex and the thick muscles ripple, and you were suddenly hit with the memory of of his lips pressing against yours in the car-
“You’re a little crazy, you know that?” He rumbled as he turned around, and begun buttoning his floral shirt.
You blinked and dragged your stare away from his chest.
“I’m- I’m sorry?” You asked, not fully understanding him. Was he referring to you running through firing bullets for him?
“You said you wished you had a family like the Salamancas. Anyone who says that must be crazy.” He smiled and said it with a laugh, but neither reached his eyes.
You didn’t smile, and didn’t move. Not even when he reached and grabbed his gun off the night stand as he stalked towards you.
“Said you’d take a bullet if you needed to…hm?” He taunted you, standing between you and the door.
You felt a drop of water you had missed run down the back of your neck.
“I haven’t achieved a lot in my life, Señor…but I like to think that I saved your life last night…and while I don’t think you’re a good person, I do know you have a lot of people who would miss you.” You looked from the barrel of the gun to his eyes, “You can shoot me, Señor Lalo…I did something good last night…and I can die with that on my consciousness. If I die with your family knowing I did something in their favour, I’ll be satisfied.” You swallowed and looked back at him. A sense of calm came over you, “Just…please make sure Hector is never seated beside Thomas Lee…they hate each other.” You added with a tiny smile at the memory of having to separate their wheelchairs more than once.
Lalo’s heavy gaze was locked on you, and your eyes flickered over him; his chest was rising and falling quickly. Very unlike the Lalo you knew. He was always so calm…eerily so.
“Come closer I don’t want to miss.” He rumbled.
You took the few steps that were between you, and stood at the edge of his outstretched arm, just an inch from the gun.
You raised your gaze to meet his, firm and ready to meet your end. But you saw something in Lalo that you had only seen once before- that night he had emptied a magazine into your ex- it was a hunger. A glimpse of an animal inside him.
You both stood there for a moment, barely blinking as you stared at one another. The air was thick and warm as the scorching sun heated everything under it outside. You watched his mouth twitch, and his glittering eyes flickered over your face as you remained still. He was thinking…fast.
You had proved yourself to him whether you meant to or not. Proved that you were willing and loyal. That you were quick and nurturing.
You were nuts.
And he liked that.
Then, Lalo brought his arm down and threw the gun onto the table behind him. The movement made you flinch slightly, but you still didn’t move. You weren’t about to be weak in front of him. You watched the older man take the two strides that separated you, and you felt his warm hands slip along your jaw to tilt your head back before you felt his lips on yours. They were warm, and he tasted of something sweet and smoky; his moustache tickled your lip, and you mewled softly into his mouth as you leaned up to move your lips with his urgent kiss. It was vicious, and messy. Lalo swept his tongue over your lips and you opened them without hesitation. A low hum rumbled in his chest, as he tasted you. You laid your hands on his chest, and he tore from your mouth for a moment to speak against your lips, still pecking and licking into your mouth.
“You want to be one of us? A little mouse of a Salamanca?” He rumbled, kissing you again.
You whimpered and nodded as best at you could, “Yes!”
He smirked against your lips and bit at your bottom one as he pulled you closer, “You’ll do what it takes?” Lalo began backing you up, and your legs hit the bed, making you fall back.
“Anything-“ you mumbled breathlessly as he descended upon you, his strong frame caged you in as he leaned down to kiss your jaw down to your neck where he bit and sucked ruthlessly.
“Again.” He rasped against your skin.
“Anything!” You whined, weaving your fingers into his greying hair.
“You’re mine you understand that?” Lalo pulled away and stared right at you; the sight of him so close, and his scent invading every one of your senses had your head go fuzzy. You were his.
“Y-yes papi.” You said without thinking as need took over you.
Lalo’s brow fell, and his face suddenly went serious- you felt worry prickle at you. But then he sat up and on his knees, and began unbuttoning his crisp shirt. “Say that again, Cariño.”
You stared at his fingers as his shirt came apart and you saw his bandage.
“Yes papi.” You repeated yourself.
He groaned satisfactorily deep in his chest, and slipped his shirt off his shoulders and leaned down to to grip the top of your skirt and dragged it down your legs, grinning at your panties. You bashfully went to close your knees but he smiled and tutted you, “No no no, mi princesita, open up for papi…a little more.” He ran a finger down your thigh and flicked it to make a point as you parted them.
He leaned back and reached down to run a finger down your covered slit and barked out an amused little playful laugh when he felt how soaked the material was, watching as the fabric clung to your lips.
“Dulce coñito…”he rumbled.
You may not have been fluent in Spanish, but you knew exactly what he said.
“All for me?” Lalo replaced his finger with his thumb and began rubbing up and down steadily, then stopping to circle around your clit.
You nodded, then he pressed down on your clit gently, and a whimper escaped you.
“Ooh I think she likes that.” He smiled wolfishly down at you. There was nothing you could do to hide your warming cheeks- you were practically glowing as he touched you. This man had just been bleeding on you on the verge of death, and here he was teasing you to near tears.
The man took in every twitch of your thighs, and gasp, storing every bit of information into that calculating brain of his. And you let him. You didn’t hide when you didn’t like something and certainly not when he was driving you crazy. He huffed in annoyance when he couldn’t feel all of your skin against him, and he nearly tore your shirt off of you, and bit and mouthed at the sports bra you had on.
Lalo leaned over you, and devoured your mouth as he finally slipped a long, thick finger inside you. You moaned into the kiss and he chuckled in return.
“Tan sensible, princesita…” he rumbled, and very slowly began to pump in and out of you; the movements matching the pace of his tongue licking into your mouth.
His other hand came up to the nape of your neck where he clenched his fist into your hair and stroked your neck with his thumb. You could feel yourself start to twitch and your muscles grew tighter as he patiently built your orgasm like he was entitled to it. Gently stroking your g-spot and teasing your sensitive clit as it swelled under the pad of his thumb. But then every time you felt yourself start to reach your climax, he would slow, and back off. You whined pitifully into his mouth and he hummed and chuckled.
“Tan impaciente, do I need to teach you manners?” He purred against your mouth.
You shook your head frantically and bit the inside of your lip.
He hummed again, and you felt the vibrations against you. “No…you’re a good girl, eh? Una niña tan buena para mí…” he kissed your temple, and the gesture made your head spin as you keened into his hand.
“Please…” you whispered, and melted when he kissed your nose, continuing his slow pace.
“Look at you…so domesticated like a little dog. Como una pequeña mascota…” he purred.
You blushed, and flicked your eyes away in shame…was he taunting you? Did he think so little of you?
“Ah ah…I like when you look at me, niñita…” he tutted you, and put pressure on your jaw with his thumb as he still cradled your head. You felt his finger pull from you and you suppressed a mewl.
“You’d kill for me. You’d kill for your papi hm?” He goaded you.
You never thought you would say yes to something like that…but you knew that when you fired his gun at that man, you were ready for the bullet to be fatal.
“Yes…” you murmured.
He smiled wolfishly down at you, “Estás loca, niñita.”
Lalo leaned up and away from you, and hissed for a moment. You sat up with him and followed his gaze down to the bandage on his side.
“Are you alright?” You asked quietly, reaching out to touch the area lightly. Lalo snatched your hand and brought it up to his mouth were he sucked one of your fingers into his mouth; your lips parted at the sensation, and with your body so on edge, it only added to the fire inside you.
Then he looked back down and scoffed. “Shit shot.”
You smiled a small smile, then leaned up onto your knees in front of him and watched him closely as you pressed a kiss to his chest. You could feel his heart beating under his skin, and you felt a strange privilege to feel it. You kissed him again, then followed a small trail down to where the bandage was. You looked up at him again; he was watching you intently, his breathing heavy as his thick chest heaved. You held his gaze, and dared to press a kiss right over his wound.
“Mierda…” he rumbled, then you were being wrenched from him and your back hit the bed again. Lalo was almost panting and he opened his belt and pulled it from its loops before throwing it onto the bed beside you. You could only watch as he worked his pants open, not taking his eyes off of you for a second.
You felt pinned to the spot under him, and you grew weak under his heavy, scorching gaze.
“Yours.” You whispered, and spread your legs wider for him. You didn’t know what drew you to say it…but there was a part of you that was so resigned to this man that you couldn’t even think coherently anymore.
Lalo didn’t even stutter his movements as he shucked his pants off. You stared up at him, partially appreciating that you weren’t the only one nude…but somehow you felt even more intimidated with him having nothing on. He was a strong, powerful man. There was no hiding it. A thick, strong chest and tummy, broad shoulders, thick thighs that you had seen pull at his trousers just like his arms strained his shirts.
You felt tiny.
But you didn’t have time to dwell on it as he descended on you. Lalo took each of your wrists in his hands, and pinned you there. You could feel the heavy weight of his cock lay on your stomach between you as he nestled between your thighs.
The tip leaked onto your tummy, and you squirmed against his hold on your wrists as you tried to touch him or hold onto him for dear life, but he kept you there- so vulnerable. Lalo transferred one of your wrists to his other hand and he use his free one to grope down your body, and return to your slick cunt; he slipped a finger inside you again, checking to see that you were still soaked, and he chuckled. You knew you were an even bigger mess than when he had initially teased you.
“Creo que estás goteando.” He chuckled and pulled away from you to glance down as he pulled his fingers from you- a thick line of slick between his fingers and he pulled them apart.
You flushed. Lalo hummed in satisfaction. He had you in the palm of his hand. Literally.
He took his wet hand and worked it over the tip of his cock, and you almost whined at the slick sound. You had gotten an eye-full of his cock when he had stood at the foot of the bed, and you knew he was massive. You could feel him pull his hips away from you as he moved the fat tip down to run it through your folds. Then, as if he couldn’t help himself, Lalo released your wrists and leaned back on his heels to watch himself rub the head over your clit then down the length of your slit, and back up. He rubbed it right over your sensitive bud and you bit your lip to keep from whining.
“C’mon ninita don’t be shy- I know the moustache is a bit much but I promise I’m a really nice guy.” He teased you, then surprised you by dipping the tip inside you. Just a little.
But it was enough to make you lose composure and moan pathetically.
“Ahh there she goes- see? Knew you’d warm up to me.” Lalo’s rough voice filled your ears and you moaned again when he slipped in a little further, one hand still gripping the base of his shaft and the other now on your hip in a bruising grip.
You stared up at him helplessly, hands weaved into the sheet below you.
“Precioso…” he purred almost to himself.
The endearment had you flush even more, and he started to catch onto the correlation. His face no longer held any amusement, but instead a ravenous focus sat handsomely in the deep lines of his skin.
He pulled the tip out again, then pushed in further until it popped inside you completely- a small bulge there at your entrance. Your breathing came heavily and you leaned up a little to watch.
Lalo pulled out of you again, then slipped inside you a little more…so slow and so patient. You felt as if you might melt into the bed or combust as he fucked himself into you, gently stretching you open to fit his girth. Your body welcomed him, albeit nervously as your muscles clenched every so often. But he would ease you with gentle coos and lean down to you to kiss your nose. “That’s it…there you go, princesita, you can take papi…all the way.”
You thought you might die when he was in far enough to stroke against your gspot. You could feel yourself tighten impossibly more around him, and he huffed out an amused laugh as your body threatened to force him out. Lalo pulled from your heat again, watching as your sensitive flesh clung to him, and the round bump that formed in your tummy where his cock was nestled inside you; then his gaze was on yours and he snapped his fingers to ensure your attention. You refocused your eyes and stared up at him.
“Eyes on me.” He murmured.
You nodded, and stared at his glittering black eyes as they bore into yours. Then, he began slipping himself back inside you…so slowly. You could already feel the extreme sensations starting to ripple through you, and as you watched the older man, it was like he knew even before you that you were on the precipice of your orgasm. You almost started to plead with him as he patiently eased the thick shaft into you, the weight of it dragging against every sensitive spot inside you until his hips met yours, and his thick tummy ground against your clit…and you saw stars.
“Cum on papi,cariño…” he purred, “Cum all over me.” He kissed your top lip.
And you let go.
An unrestrained whine tore from your throat as your legs shook and your cunt clenched down on him like a vice. Lalo could feel the sudden rush of your cum over his cock and he continued to grind into you as you rode it out. You didn’t know when, but you felt his warm hands over yours; his fingers locked with yours. Your fingers dug into his knuckles, and your back arched up off the mattress as he patiently fucked you through your orgasm, shallowly pulling out then grinding back inside you.
You could barely hear or see. Everything was cloudy and ringing around you as the extreme pleasure ebbed away and your body went lax.
“There she is.” Lalo grinned, and kissed you. His tongue parted your lips and you wrenched your hands from his and wrapped them around his neck, but you flinched when you touched his bandage there.
Lalo hummed and put your arms back around his neck, “Rip them open ninita, c’mon.” He grinned down at you, and started thrusting into you. There was an obscene sound that came from between you thanks to your powerful orgasm and your cheeks warmed.
“Woah!” He smiled and pushed into you, humming at the feeling of your slick warmth hugging around him. Lalo sighed and leaned over you fullly now, bracing himself on his strong forearms. He sighed, and the air fanned over your face.
“Dios te sientes bien.” The older man purred, and kissed down your neck to your shoulder where he nipped at the skin as he increased his pace. Your body began to bounce under him.
Lalo slipped his hand back under the nape of your neck and held you still as he sucked at your skin and bit down possessively. You whimpered and squirmed but his iron grip held you there. As he slowly released you, he licked at your skin and kissed along your collar. His chest heaved against yours and he returned to your mouth and engulfed your lips again; you parted them without thinking now, and let his warm tongue stroke yours.
Then, he pulled away slowly and stared down at you scorchingly. “Open that pretty mouth.” He gasped.
You parted your lips, and Lalo spat onto your waiting tongue, then leaned back down and kissed you again, hard. You moaned down his throat and he groaned in return. A startling need for eachother had seeded itself in both of you.
He had you so distracted with his mouth that you barely noticed as he started rutting into you until his kiss slowed. Lalo hunkered over you, almost folding you in half and he stared hammering into you fast. There was nothing but the sound of his flesh plaping against yours in the warm motel room, and while you were sensitive, you didn’t want it to stop. In fact, you could feel your sensitive cunt start to tighten around him again, and you were helpless to stop it or even tell him, though he seemed very well aware as he grinned down at you.
“That’s it- that’s it.” He purred, and you let him use you as he needed. His soft tummy impacted your clit with each thrust and you could only babble with need. “I’m- I’m- la- f-f-fu- I’m-“ you couldn’t even get a word out at your second orgasm hit you like a train, and Lalo chuckled low in his chest as he felt you cum for him.
You gripped around him tight, and Lalo groaned low at the sensation. He thrusted a few more times, each one more sloppy and harder than the last until he pushed into you all the way, squishing his tip up against your cervix and let his weight down onto you as he came deep inside you. You rolled your hips with him as he slowed his pace and ground against you. Lalo hummed and panted into your neck, and you held him tight against your body as his thick cum filled you up. You could feel your tummy warm up as he emptied into you, rope after hot rope he coated your insides until some of the sticky liquid leaked out the sides where his cock plugged you.
Somewhere in the back of your mind you were terrified that he might have ripped his stitches, but in that moment you didn’t dare say a word. You knew he’d wave you off.
The older man slowly stilled, and stayed inside you comfortably. His heat was comforting, and you clung to his back and stroked his hair gently. Lalo very slowly leaned up off of you, kissing along your collar to your cheeks, and rolled to the side so he wouldn’t crush you. Then, he shuffled something over to you, and lifted your butt up. It was a pillow.
When you looked at him as he raised your hips up, he only sent you a wink.
You couldn’t form a sentence, so you just laid there for a moment before you felt his arm come around your head and pull you into his side. You curled in there, and rested your head on his chest. Your heart beat wracked your entire body- everything pulsed. You couldn’t move. And Lalo noticed how immobile you were.
“What? A mans never made you cum before?” He chuckled. But when you were silent, he looked at you properly. “No…really? That little prick never made a little thing like you cum?” He pushed and you wished the earth would swallow you up.
“No…” you managed to force out.
“God…we have a lot of catching up to do then!”
You stared at him in horror as your body was still recovering from what he had just done to you. And he laughed. “I’m joking- now come here and kiss me. I almost died yesterday y’know.”
You huffed, and leaned up to press a gentler kiss to his mouth. Then leaned back down. You couldn’t even hold your head up.
He kissed your hair, and ran his hand up and down your arm. “Mi pequeña loca.” Lalo purred.
“Mi viejo loco.” You mumbled, and Lalo sat up and away from you enough to look down at you.
You looked at him sheepishly.
“Mocosa.” He smiled, and you returned it.
Lalo enjoyed seeing you like that. Relaxed. Flushed. Sweaty. Fucked out, blissed out, swollen lipped, hair a mess. All for him.
He sighed after a moment, and smacked your hip. “I’m gonna eat you if we don’t get some fucking food.”
You nodded. “What do you have in mind? Fried chicken?” You quipped.
Lalo did a double take, and stared at you dead serious, then burst into laughter. “I knew you were funny.”
You smiled a little and toyed with a little hair on his arm. “How much longer are you going to be here…in Albuquerque?” You mumbled.
“Eh…we’ll stay here a little longer. Keep an eye on my tio…then after that? Think you deserve some real food.” He smiled.
Your brows furrowed and you pulled away to look at him.
“You said you’ve never been to Mexico right?” He said, tracking your eyes.
You nodded, biting the inside of your cheek.
“Entonces está decidido...after that…I think we could use a Uh…mouth cleanser?” He squinted.
Your heart throbbed still his use of “we”.
“Pallet cleanser?” You offered and he snapped his finger and pointed at you. You smiled.
“Yes! That. Tired of this shit city…you know, I hear Germany is nice.” And he grinned.
He knew he had you.
He embodied the chaos you had grown used to, but portrayed it so calmly. He made you feel safe, and made that little girl you thought you had lost inside you sing. Whatever it was that the two of you shared, you were drawn to it like moths to a flame.
And you knew it.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
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wayfayrr · 5 months
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haiiiii can i get uhhhh... spiked latte with Peppermint brittle to take away :3 yan! sky fics are not a want they are a NEED- MOSS HELP ME PLEASE---
order up!! hope it's to your tastes <3
well @sketchyspook - I've got your yan sky here for you with him being a manipulative pos for reader while keeping up his soft facade so they can't really question it :D
[Event masterlist]
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“I still can’t believe that link, I mean of all people to fall in love with, you chose the person who was playing through your game? You could have been with a literal reincarnation of your goddess. ”
“You know none of the others were real right? I’m the only one who was alive… as far as I’m aware or care.”
“Still, I can’t believe you don’t resent me even a little bit. I made you re-live your quest so many times and I didn’t even know you were alive.” 
All I get in return for that is a playful eye roll like I’d told him a dumb joke rather than confessing how awfully I treated him when he was trapped. It’s rather unnerving how calm he is about all of this, but I really shouldn’t push it any more. I don’t think it would be a pleasant mess to clean up if he snapped and did realise everything he’s been through wasn’t right. 
“Can’t this wait until the morning love? We’ve both been through a lot today so we should get some rest right?”
He’s still insisting on calling me that? I do like it, my childhood crush speaking to me like I’m his lover, but something about it seems so wrong.
“Sure, right, fine. I’ve got a guest room and some spare pyjamas you can borrow link.”
“Thank you [name].”
The feeling of something being off with his attitude only grows as he gently grabs my hand while I’m showing him where he can stay. He’s too possessive about this, too happy, even for getting out of a hellscape that his game must’ve been for him, it’s unnerving. My guest room is small and simple with a bed, a small desk and a wardrobe, all in all somewhat reminiscent of his old dorm room. But it should be more than enough for him. 
“There should be some spare clothes in the cupboard, my friends tend to just leave them here for whenever they visit.” 
“And they’ll be fine with me just using them?”
“They don’t need to know, I’ll wash them tomorrow when we go out to get you some of your own. Goodnight link.”
“Sleep well, love.”
He shouldn’t need my help changing, so I’m confident in leaving him in here while I go shower and settle down for the night too. 
Having a hot shower works wonders for clearing your head, a good night’s rest should help to put everything regarding link into focus. 
“Hey.”
“Huh? I thought you said you liked the other room? What made you want to sneak into mine?”
“I tried to sleep, but being in there on my own? I was scared I would wake up back in skyloft without you.”
Turning him away if this is true would simply be cruel to him, it doesn’t help the feeling from earlier crawling back though. That he’s possessive, unhealthily so, but I have to brush it off. Maybe I’m just overthinking, maybe he’s just getting used to being real still. It could be any reason like that.
“Move over so that I can get in as well then.”
“You- you’re really not going to ask me to leave my dove? I know theirs a reason I fell for your kindness… I’ll never let anyone else come close to having you like this.”
“What was that?”
“I said you’re not going to ask me to leave and go back to the other room alone?”
Okay, there is definitely something deeply wrong with him if what I think I heard is what he really said. He’s not going too like me questioning him though, and I don’t exactly have the energy for it either. Which I think he can tell, his arms are so warm and welcoming though, it’d be torture to peel myself out of them. Drifting off to sleep where he wants me is just the natural result of how comfortable he is. 
“See [name], Isn’t it just so nice to be my lover? Wouldn’t you prefer for it to just be me and you like this forever?”
I’m not even awake enough to respond, instead closing my eyes and sighing against him. 
“I knew you would… don’t worry my dove, you’ll never leave my side again. No matter what.”
Ending that haunting sentence with a kiss to my neck and a gentle hum, seemingly more content than he’s ever been. Just from holding me in his arms as we both drift into a deep sleep. 
141 notes · View notes
gretavangroupie · 1 month
Text
The Ripe and The Ruin (Chapter 4)
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Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Reader, OC x Reader
Word Count: 18.0k
Warnings: Language, Alcohol, Smoking, Angst, Anxiety, Embarrassment, Lying, Sexual Themes, Kissing, Oral M! Receiving, Oral F! Receiving, Protected Sex.
Find the Playlist Here: Apple Music | Spotify
A new series in collaboration with my talented co-writer @gretavanmoon.
"Like all good fruit, the balance of life is in the ripe and ruin."
AMSTERDAM, NETHERLANDS
HER POV
Thirteen hours. 
It had been thirteen long hours since you last saw Jake, leaving your room in a hurry of flustered nerves. You were dreading it, but he was nowhere to be found this morning, not a sight or sound from him since late last night. It had been ten hours since his text, coming to you far too early in the morning for your liking. He was sorry. Of course he was sorry. The text came so early in fact, that part of you wondered if he was just arriving back to the hotel from the amp situation, or if he was tossing and turning in his bed in much the same way you were. You loaded into the van bright and early with Wes and Paul, secretly wondering where he was or if he was going to show up at all, but if you had to guess he was likely passed out in his bed five floors up.
Your market list today was short, only a few things for Josh and Sam and the noticeable absence of normal requests from Jake. You didn’t think much of it, getting what you needed before making the trek back to the venue. You took the spare second to give Ruth a quick run down and she was just as confused as you were. For once in her life she had nothing to say. She was speechless and you didn’t blame her. 
She insisted you reply to Jake’s early morning text, but you couldn’t. You had no idea where to even start. You wanted to move forward and forget it ever happened, and in order to do that you needed to leave last night behind you. Right? You know that when you do see him today though, things will be tense. Maybe even a little awkward. You take solace in the fact that you will be busy the entire day, making it fairly easy to avoid him and forget about everything, you hoped.
You made your way back into the crew area, flashing your shiny laminated badge to security as you juggle the paper bags in your arms. You navigate the winding corridors of the venue hearing the sounds of rumbling bass and guitar echo through the halls, finding yourself smiling at the fact that this was a sound not many people got to experience. Jake must have made it here after all. Familiar voices laughing a few feet ahead of you snap you back to reality. You see Mia and Lyla hanging out in front of the greenroom, looking at something on one of their phones just as they spot you. 
“Y/N! Hey!” Mia shouts, waving you over, “C’mere!”
You turn to head over towards them, stopping short as Lyla grabs one of the bags from your arms. “I’ll take one of those!”
“Oh, thanks!” you smile, feeling Mia place her hand on your arm. 
“We just were talking a little while ago about how much fun we had with you yesterday. I know you don’t really know us that well yet, but you are welcome to hang with us whenever you want. Seriously. We want to get to know you, we need another girl on our side!”
“That’s so nice! Thank you so much, I appreciate that, really,” you answer, adjusting your grip on the bag in your hand. “I will take you up on that, yesterday was really cool.”
“Yeah, so what did you get into after we went back to the hotel?” Lyla asks, tilting her head a bit. 
“Oh, I just…I went to my room and hung out for a while, went and did a little sightseeing of my own and ordered room service and fell asleep. I was pretty exhausted after walking all day,” you say, bending the truth just a touch. 
“Huh, well, call us next time, hate for you to go out all alone,” Mia says, raising an eyebrow as she turns to Lyla. It almost seems as if she's waiting for you to correct her. 
It strikes you as a little suspicious but you know better than to play into it. “Yeah, absolutely. But hey I have to go get this set up, they will be looking for it any second.” 
“Yeah yeah, no problem, go, I know how Sam gets,” Lyla laughs, handing the bag back to you. 
“Thanks again, I’ll find you two later!” you shout over your shoulder. 
You rush into the greenroom, furiously arranging the food and drinks before soundcheck finishes. You want to get things set up, done, and be gone before they ever step foot in the room. Sure you told yourself you were going to be mature about things, but you weren’t going to put yourself in the line of fire. In fact, you had yet to see any of the guys today, and part of you was thankful. Trying to make awkward small talk with them was the absolute last thing you wanted to do right now. 
You wipe your hands on your pants as you finish placing the drinks into the cooler, feeling your phone buzz in your back pocket. 
Paul
3:43PM: Need another case of Topos and a bottle of soda water please
Fuck, where was this text an hour ago?
You
3:44PM: No problem, be back soon.
Two stores and thirty minutes later you are walking back to the venue, braving the cold with the case of drinks and bottle of soda water in hand. Your jacket is zipped all the way up to your neck, and still the wind is whipping right through you. You can see the venue gates a block away but the wind is making it feel like ten. Again you flash your badge to security, the burly man opening the gates to let you into the back parking lot. As you turn the corner to approach the entrance, you’re stopped in your tracks. Standing outside the doors, leaning against the brick wall is Jake. Of course. 
He doesn’t see you, not yet at least. His back is turned a bit to cut the wind. Clad in only a t-shirt and his corduroy jacket, you know he is freezing. The smoke billows from his lips, whooshing away quickly as the wind whips it into the air. His lips. His perfectly pink, heart shaped lips that were all over your body last night. Kissing and biting and… No. Stop it. You try to compose yourself, gripping the items in your hands as you head toward the door, prepared to say as little as possible to him, and walk straight inside. 
That of course, did not happen. 
“Have any trouble finding it?” he asks, turning to meet your eyes as he rolls his smoke out between his fingers, dropping the burnt tobacco into the grass. 
“Oh, um, no no, all good,” you answer nervously. Which was also a lie, you were kinda sweating finding the Topos for a second. 
Your eyes catch on his jacket, your mind swirling with the memory of his cologne that lingers in its fibers. You feel a tinge of happiness in your chest at the fact he is talking to you, though, why wouldn’t he be? You didn’t do anything wrong. You watch his lips twitch a little, and you can tell that he seems almost nervous to talk to you. 
“When are you ever gonna ask me for the things you want?” you ask playfully, trying to ease his anxiety. It never happened, remember?
He turns his body completely, crossing his arms over his chest as he smirks at you, “Well, the last time I texted you, you left me on read. So I figure I will just get my own things, now.”
Fuck, okay that plan backfired. 
You bite your lips together and look down to the ground, unsure of what to even say to that. He drops his hands to his sides as he looks at you, and you feel your body temperature start to rise under his gaze. The wind blows his hair across his face, in turn sending the smell of his cologne barrelling past you. You feel bad for him, of course…if the roles were reversed, you wouldn’t even be speaking to him right now, let alone be acting even the littlest bit flirty. You shiver a little, from the cold or the smell of his cologne, you aren’t sure. 
“I need to get this inside,” you stammer, at a complete loss on how to respond to that.
He nods his head and grabs the door handle, pulling it open and gesturing for you to go, but thankfully, he doesn’t follow you. 
Fuck. Okay. Okay. It’s fine. It’s totally fine. 
You rush back into the green room, finding Sam and Danny playing around with a mini golf toy. 
“Here you go Sam! Sorry! Had to go to two places to find the kind you like,” you smile, ripping the box open. 
“My hero!” he shouts, rushing over to you and wrapping his arms around you in a hug. 
You smile as he sets you down, tossing a can to Daniel, and then cracking the lid on his own. The two of them saunter back through the greenroom doors, leaving you alone to throw the rest of them into the cooler. 
You pull your phone from your bag, bringing up your text thread with Jake and staring at his last message. Maybe Ruth was right, you should respond. Now especially after that, after knowing he was still beating himself up over it. You type, delete and retype your message several times before finally landing on what felt right, and even more, you really mean it.
You
4:33PM: You have nothing to apologize for, Jake.
JAKE POV
As you continue to stand outside the venue and let the wind cut you in two, you wonder if your plan to play it smooth actually worked. She didn’t fully ignore you, she didn’t cuss you out, she didn’t laugh in your face… but she did speak. Only a few words, but you’ll take what you can get. It was hard to even say those few words to her, the instant courage you had to muster to speak to her after seeing her so unexpectedly almost threw you for a loop, but somehow, your words came out smoothly, concisely, and without sounding like you were a complete buffoon.
You relax a little as you know she is inside doing her duties, and you busy yourself pacing around the back exit to keep warm. The pre-show nerves start coming about this time of day, and sometimes it feels good to step out into the blistering cold for that extra shot of adrenaline to get your blood pumping. You jump up and down, shoving your hands in your pockets as you wait just a few more minutes… wanting to avoid having to make any more awkward conversation with her than you already had. 
As your hand hits your pocket, though, you feel your phone buzz. You pull it out, seeing a notification that she has finally texted you back. 
Y/N
4:33PM: You have nothing to apologize for, Jake. 
You read the text no less than fifteen times, smiling from ear to ear before anxiety sets in, making you think that maybe she is just being nice. But you do have something to apologize for. You were the reason for a completely failed night, a shitty end to the perfect “date”, left her pissed and unsatisfied, the absolute worst. All you’ve been able to think about all day long is how you are going to explain everything, and make it up to her. You know you can’t until after the show, but just the little bit of contact from her makes you feel like you could move mountains. Progress is progress. 
You’re pacing the hallways going back and forth between backstage and the green room, keeping yourself busy before you head to jam a little with the guys. 
“Hey, man. You good?” Sam asks as you’re brushing past him in a doorway. His tone is more inquisitive than normal, and the volume of his voice is the one he uses when he’s unsure, or in this case, concerned. 
“Yeah, I’m good. I mean… I wasn’t, really, but I am now,” you answer, pushing your sunglasses back up on your head. You watch his eyebrows furrow at your answer, wondering if you caught onto his loaded question. 
“I heard about your amp, what happened?” he asks. 
“I’m not sure, something with the wiring. Had a gash in the cabinet but the harness was all damaged to shit. They’re getting a rental, though… should be here soon,” you glance at your watch to double check the time, praying that you will have enough time to check it before tonight. 
“Mmm, maybe not…” Sam stops in his tracks, and turns the opposite way to go back out to the stage. “Let me take a look at it.” 
You’re surprised by him, but follow his quick steps anyway. You’re close behind him as you navigate the narrow halls, passing crew and staff left and right. And of course, one of them just happens to be Y/N. Her eyes widen as she sees the two of you. 
“HEY!” Sam yells at her, grabbing her by the shoulder. “Daniel told me to tell you thank you for the soda water and that he appreciates it,” Sam cheeses a giant smile at her as she cups her hand over his, still squeezing her shoulder. 
“No problem at all, Sam,” she giggles. “Man, you guys are really nice, no one has ever thanked me for getting them things this much,” she narrows her eyes at you, pursing her lips into the smallest smile. Mental note, thank her extra for whatever she decides to bring you to drink tonight…
“Well I mean we’re all assholes but we at least have manners,” he replies, starting to head toward the stage again. You part ways, but just her eyes meeting yours again was enough to make your heart flutter. 
Sam skips every other step as he climbs the metal stairs to the stage, making his way over to your damaged amp that has been set to the side. “Alright, let’s see…” he squats down and pulls the back off, and starts to fidget with the wiring inside. “Oh, shit, yeah. I see now…” He pulls up the flashlight on his phone as you watch him think. Suddenly he stands and runs over to your cabinet, grabbing two handfuls of tools before making his way back and dropping them by your side. He then hops over to his own setup and pulls the back off of one of his own amps, pulling a few things from it, too. What the fuck is he doing?
He returns a minute later with some of the guts of his own amp, and pieces of it that you are sure you’ve never even seen before. He kneels back down and grabs a screwdriver, going back to work. 
“So, you say you’re good now, but you weren’t, right?” he asks. “You’ve been acting kinda backward lately.”
“No I haven’t,” you kick back. 
His eyes quickly scan to yours as his hands work at a quick pace. “Yeah, you have. I’m not stupid.”
You sigh, knowing that he isn’t gonna give it up. “I’ve just… got some other shit going on right now, I’ll–I’ll explain it all later once I get it dealt with,” you lie. The half-assed explanation will have to do for now, there is no way you are going into detail about all the good and bad happening in your life, especially since Lyla may be giving Sam a completely different story than the one you would give him. 
You watch as he effortlessly completely replaces the wire housing, splicing the old wire at the perfect spot before tightening it back into place again. “There, that should do it…”
“Does your amp not need that stuff?” you ask, leaning your hands on your knees as you watch him.
“Eh, yeah, but I think this will be okay,” he says. “Alright, fire it up!” he yells at the techs, and you take that as your cue to grab your guitar to test it out. You plug the wire in and wait for Sam to get the thumbs-up from the booth. You play a single chord, hearing it ring across the arena with near-perfection. 
“Holy shit Sam, how did you do that?!” your jaw is hanging slack as you make your way back over to him. “The techs couldn’t even figure it out…”
He wipes his hands against each other and stands with his hands on his hips like a proud father. “Eh, been watching Mark for a long time, now. Youtube deep-dives, ya know. Picked up on a few things.”
“Shit, I’m impressed,” you laugh. And you really, really were.
“Yeah, ya know, sometimes finding the root of the problem is the first step in making things work out how you want them to, know what I mean?” He bumps your side with his elbow. Yep. His first question was definitely loaded.
You nod slowly. “Yeah… thanks…”
“No problem.” He walks a little closer to you, barely twisting a peg on the headstock of your guitar. “There, now you’re tuned, too.” 
You glance at the stock, seeing that he was right, the little fucker. You watch as he skips down the stairs again, throwing one finger in the air above him, screaming, “Cancel the rental!”
You and Sam decide to wander around the empty venue for a while, checking out the view from the top row of seats, enjoying a shared blunt as time ticks by. You don’t get to spend much time with just Sam, but every now and then you find a moment like this. You’re close with Sam, in a different way than you are with Josh. He understands things differently than Josh, and for a moment as the smoke swirls through your veins you consider asking him for advice about Isla. 
You know it's a dangerous game, but without the influence of Lyla you think he would answer truthfully. Passing the blunt back to him you start to speak, but are quickly interrupted by your phone buzzing in your pocket. You pull it out, seeing a name on the screen that you’d been waiting for for a few days. 
“Hey, let me take this, I’ll meet you back in the green room?” you ask, hoping he will catch the drift. 
His face twists up in confusion, “Huh? You never answer your phone.”
“It’s Chris. I’ve been waiting on this call. Let me grab it,” you say, flashing the screen towards him. 
“Oh, oh. About your new band with your new friends that aren’t me and Josh and Daniel. That's fine, yeah yeah take the call,” he says playfully. 
“Old friends Sam, and don’t be like that…” you chide. 
“No, it’s totally fine, cheater, answer before he hangs up,”  he smiles, elbowing you as he stands up. You tap the green icon as he starts to walk away, clearing your throat and stifling back a smile.
“Chris…” you answer. 
“Jake…” he answers, a happy lilt in his tone. 
“I’m guessing this means we’re doing it?”
You hear him laugh on the other end of the phone, “Oh yeah, we’re doing it.”
“Jake, you good?” Danny asks, standing up from his practice kit. 
“Yeah, yeah, I’m feelin’ really good actually,” you answer truthfully. You stand, placing your guitar into the stand and shaking out your hands as Josh steps up towards you. 
“Drink?” he asks, raising his eyebrows. 
“Followin’ you…”
You do follow him back to the greenroom, needing a drink to get your blood moving and to shake those pre show jitters. As you step over the threshold you spot Y/N sitting on a couch talking to Lyla, Ty, and Mia. You wonder for a second if she has mentioned anything about what happened last night, but from the happy look on their faces you know it’s likely they know nothing about the two of you or what transpired last night.
You walk over to the drink table, Josh already getting started on making a drink for the two of you. You laugh at his heavy handed pour, but accept it graciously. You can hear the rumble of the crowd, the opener finishing up their set this very minute. Your eyes flick over to Y/N, catching her looking at you for just a second before looking away. The feeling of her eyes on you has your chest warming up, no alcohol needed. 
In all reality you were ready for this show to be over. You knew that as soon as you got the chance you were going to whisk her away to talk about last night, explain things, and hope she understood. You just had to get through this show. 
You grab the drink from Josh and make your way over to the empty couch across the room, sitting at the very end and crossing your leg over your knee. You know you’ve got about thirty minutes until you need to walk, and you still need to change, but a quick drink would do you some good so you enjoy the few moments listening to Josh ramble. 
Just as you start to relax you notice Y/N standing from her place on the couch and walking over towards the corner of the room. You try not to stare, knowing Mia and Lyla’s eyes are on you but you have an idea of what she may be doing, so you sit back and watch to find out. 
You hear her walkie talkie chattering from across the room, the time until stage is growing smaller and smaller. As she stands back up she turns around and looks at you, letting her eyes linger on you for just a few seconds before she walks out of the room with your bottle of wine in hand. You stifle back the smile on your lips as you think about her going through your bag again. It’s strange, you’d never allowed any of the other runners to do that, but she was different. You found yourself excited at the idea of her touching your things, finding your wine and readying your drink for the stage. 
You turn back to Josh who has his eyes locked on you with a knowing grin. He clears his throat and makes sure that no one is listening before he speaks, “Are you two good, then?”
You nod your head inconspicuously, sipping at the drink in your hand. “Seems that way.”
He pats his hand on your thigh harshly, “Good, go get changed. We’ve got a show to play.”
Just then, Paul ducks his head through the door looking frazzled as usual, “Boys, twenty minutes.”
Josh tilts his head to you, and you stand up heading for the dressing rooms. You quickly change into your suit and slip into your boots, ready to swipe on some eyeliner before you hit the stage. You hear your phone buzz on the countertop, and it zaps all of your attention. You are practically stumbling over your own feet to get to it, hoping to see something from Y/N, and much to your delight, it is. 
‘Y/N Added A Song to Your Shared Playlist: 🐥’
Oh fuck, a song. 
Your heart is pounding in your chest, you want to open it immediately but you know you have to get this eyeliner on first. You grab the pencil and pull your lid down, swiping on the dark black liner, smudging it out with your finger the best you can before repeating it on the other side. All you can think about is what song she added. Will it be happy? Will it be sad? Is she telling you she doesn’t want to do this anymore? That you fucked up?
You cap the liner and toss it into your bag, running your fingers through your hair and adjusting your suit jacket in the mirror. You look good, you look really good, and you know that a spray of cologne probably wouldn’t hurt. You snatch your phone off the counter and make your way back into the greenroom, finding everyone else dressed and ready to walk. 
You make your way to your backpack, crouching down in front of it searching for the small glass bottle of cologne you know is floating around at the bottom. You pull it from the bag and give yourself a generous spray. It calms you, in a way, breathing in the familiar scent. It centers you and reminds you of home. 
Unable to wait a single second longer, you tap the notification on your screen bringing up the shared playlist, scrolling to the very bottom. Your heart leaps in your chest when you see her addition, and you know that you are about to play a good show because of it. 
You tap the song, letting the sweet and sentimental notes of ‘Can’t Take My Eyes Off You’ by Frankie Valli ring through the air. You turn the volume up probably a little louder than it should be, but you don’t care. It’s not long before Josh notices, peering over at you from the rim of his paper cup. 
“Jake, is that Frankie Valli? Holy shit, wait, do you like good music now?” he teases, throwing you a wink. 
The chorus echoes through the room, Sam and Lyla obviously enjoying the song as he dances her around the room. He pops a few grapes into his mouth as they spin and you can’t help but to notice that this song alone has brightened everyone's spirits in a matter of seconds. She definitely had that effect on you, but now her magic was being cast on others. You almost wanted to thank her, and you would, tonight. With extra thanks…
You quickly pull up your texts with her, deciding to let her know you saw it without saying too much. 
You
8:31PM: 😎
You know it’s risky but you don’t care. You also know the chances of her replying to that are slim, because in all honesty what do you even say to that? But she continues to surprise you, your phone buzzing in your hand before you can even put it back in your bag. 
Y/N
8:32PM: 🎸
You can’t seem to shake the smile from your face and you’re glad you are still crouched down in front of your bag, because you know everyone would have a million questions the second they saw your shit-eating grin. 
“Let’s go guys, time to walk!” Paul shouts, pulling your attention away from the little guitar emoji. You toss your phone in your bag and straighten out your suit, trying to get your mind back into the zone to play this show. Get through this, then you can talk to her.
Your heart is beating fast though, knowing that at the end of this hallway she is waiting for you. You know you have to play it cool, you don’t want to seem too eager. You clear your throat and fall to the back of the group, saving yourself for last.
You’re fine Jake. Just act natural, be cool.
HER POV
The tequila cocktail… the Topo… the spiked hot tea… and…
The shadowed figure is bringing up the rear like the tail end of a parade of sequins and sparkling material, dressed in black satin and glittering in the dim lights, hair flowing back from his shoulders as his right hand falls to his stomach as he walks. His face is contoured by the flashing lights of the stage, showcasing the smudged black eyeliner carefully but heavily painted over the eyes that were boring into you, now. 
You feel your hand begin to shake on its own accord, trying not to spill the chalice of white wine that it was, in all honesty, about to drop to the floor below you. You swallow harshly as he makes his way toward you at almost slow-motion speed, his eyes dark and hollow as his presence approaches. Your hand shakily extends the cup, glancing up to him again as he bites his cheeks in, suppressing a smile that reads more like a judgment on behalf of your probably flustered state. Why are you reacting this way? This man literally gave you one of the most awkward exchanges of your night last night…
His fingertips are nearly on fire as they barely graze yours, taking the cup with a quickness.
“Good luck,” you mutter, probably barely audible over the opening orchestral. 
He flips his hair out from underneath the strap of his guitar with his free hand, side-eyeing you as he walks toward the stairs to the stage. “Mmm, don’t need it, babe.” As if the pure adrenaline wasn’t already enough to knock you over, his bold act of cocky audacity steals all the breath directly from your lungs, leaving you standing with your mouth agape and your hands dropped at your sides. God damn, why is he like this? 
“I don’t know… I’ve seen you with stage fright before…” you retort, suddenly feeling bold enough to joke about what happened the night prior. 
“Ohhhh, is that how it’s gonna be?!” he laughs, bumping into your shoulder. “Hope you know that’s not normally how those kinds of nights go for me…” he yells back over the deafening music, avoiding eye contact with you as he takes the first sip from his wine.
You cross your arms over your chest. “Oh, it’s not, is it?”
He shakes his head a little as he begins to ascend the metal stairs. “No. Most definitely not.” Your heart is pounding out of your ribcage as his words ring through your brain, replaying the utter humiliation of last night, followed by his overwhelming acts of confidence in the past minute. “Thank you, though, seriously. For taking care of us.” He leans over the handrail of the steps, leaning down to speak closely in your ear. “But for taking care of me, especially. I plan on returning the favor, don’t worry…” 
He stands back up and glides onto the stage, holding his wine up into the air as if to salute your efforts. Your mouth goes dry as you find yourself in a puddle of excited emotions. You can feel your mouth hanging open still from his words, your lips unable to close simply from hearing him say he wants to try again. It's all a conundrum, and now you’re full-on staring at him as he crosses the stage to stand with his brothers, fluffing his hair a little as he pulls a pick from the inside of his jacket, biting it between his front teeth. He turns back to you and winks, placing his own hand under his jaw, signaling for you to pick yours up off of the floor. 
—--
Minutes later you’re still standing at the base of the stairs, watching as they begin their night of revelry. Jake’s amp sounds perfect again, and you can tell that his worry of finding a replacement and anxiety of it not making it on time was all for nothing. He treats the stage like it’s his second life, a place where he can release his true inner self, or, maybe, an alternate version of the man that he is. You’re not sure yet, but you have a deep feeling that you will be experiencing it, soon. The thought of that makes your insides feel like they’re blazing with hormones, watching his performance pick up and slow down with each passing second. Yeah, you know for a fact last night was a fluke. Had to be. There’s no way he can’t really actually…nevermind. 
You pull your phone from your pocket, hoping that you have enough service to facetime Ruth. You don’t even bother doing the math to see if you’ll be waking her up or not, but you also know that she absolutely won’t care, if this is what she gets to wake up to. You press the green button, watching as it connects with only a little bit of blurriness from the reception. 
You plaster a smile on your face as you watch her answer, realizing exactly where you are, and what you’re in the middle of doing. You can’t hear each other, but you turn the screen around, giving her a full view of the show happening from side stage. You watch her face light up, and an ‘OH MY GOD’ form on her lips. You take the time to zoom in on each member, of course, saving Jake for last. He’s the closest to you, so you don’t have to use much zoom at all for her to really see him. ‘That’s him! That’s him, isn’t it?!’ you watch her mouth. Her hand snaps up to cover the lower half of her face as you watch her squirm with excitement. ‘Last night wasn’t real, you gotta let him try again!!!’ you read her lips, and you turn the screen back to yourself. 
You roll your eyes, mouthing back an enunciated, ‘I know!’ 
You let her watch for a few more minutes before the crappy reception disconnects you altogether, and she shoots you a quick text filled with nothing but a long string of random letters, letting you know she was fully freaking out. 
Right before the end of the show, you rush back to the green room to clean up the mess of whatever is left behind, replenishing and rearranging everything that needs it. You know the crew will be coming in to collect snacks and waters before their job begins tonight, and you’ve learned to put out almost every single food item that you can, knowing that none of it will go to waste. 
As you hear the encore coming to a close, you grab the four black towels waiting for you in your bag, rushing back out to side stage to hand them off to the guys. You find Paul waiting too, ready to give them encouraging back-pats of congratulations. Just like they entered, they exit the same, Jake bringing up the back as if he planned it. You’d been kind enough to hand Sam, Josh, and Danny theirs with sweet words of compliments and praise, but switched it up at the very end, tossing Jake’s towel into the air above him, forcing him to reach high and catch it in mid-air. 
The sweat is pouring from his every pore, pooling on his upper lip and center of his stomach. Your mind goes to a dark place for a second, wishing you knew exactly what it would taste like if you were the one to lick it from his lips. He quickly pulls the towel across his face and stomach, finishing off by wiping the back of his neck with it. He then tosses it back in your face, and you catch the smallest breath of his scent filling your nostrils. “You can keep that, all yours,” he jokes as you pull it off your face, responding to him with a look of annoyance. 
“You asshole,” you laugh, tucking the towel under your arm as you follow them all backstage. He turns around, yanking the towel back out from your grasp. You watch as he takes two ends and twists them up, wrapping the damp towel in a tight coil. Oh god, he’s not gonna…
You stop, lifting your leg and outstretching your arms in defense of your body. You just know he is about to snap it at you. “Jake, no, please don’t!” you squeal, backing away. 
“Don’t worry, ‘m not gonna get you, unless you’re into that kinda thing…” 
Son of a bitch, he said that fairly loudly, as you’re surrounded by his brothers, their girlfriends, the crew, your co-workers… fuck.
Your eyes widen as big as they will go as he laughs, continuing to make his way down the hall. You pick up steps again, following him in a flustered mess of confusion. “I’m gonna get Daniel, watch…”
You burst into the greenroom right behind him, the towel still tightly wound and held in his right hand. He makes his way straight for Danny, twirling the towel in the air as he approaches him. 
“No, Jake! No!” Danny yells, running away and launching himself onto the couch, but not before you hear a perfectly loud snap of the towel connecting with Danny’s thigh. Danny yelps out in stinging pain as everyone else laughs, Jake taking his time to roll the towel up into his makeshift whip again. “What the fuck?!” Danny yells, trying his best to hide behind Mia. Everyone is running away from him at this point, worried they will be the next victim. 
Jake makes contact with Danny’s leg again as he squeals. “That’s for not cueing me into Farewell like we practiced, you asshole!” Jake yells at Danny with a giant smile across his face. 
“Leave me alone!” Danny laughs, laying all his weight onto Mia. “I forgot, okay? Fuck!” You can’t help but join in the laughter of everyone filling up the green room, watching their playful display. You feel a sudden strong warmth fill your chest, realizing you get to be a part of this, seeing it all firsthand. 
Jake stops, folding the towel back into a nice neat square as he makes his way back to where you stand, handing the towel to you with both hands. “Anyway, told you you could keep this,” he reiterates as you take it from his hands, giving him another glare of petty aggravation. 
“Wonderful show guys, as always!” Paul claps his hands together. “This venue has an early curfew, so get your showers and shit together, no lollygagging around, alright?” he barks, popping a pretzel into his mouth before dashing back out the door. 
Sam’s the first one out the door to the showers, pulling Lyla behind him. “You guys make the afterparty plans, we’ll do whatever, we don’t care…” he yells over his shoulder as the door slams behind Lyla. 
“It’s balls cold out, I know Ty’s not gonna want to go walking around in this shit. And to be honest, I don’t really want to either,” Josh says, taking a seat on the couch beside Ty. “Am I right?” he asks him.
“Yeah, fuck this cold,” Ty responds. 
You try not to listen in on their conversations as you know they don’t apply to you, but you most definitely are curious to see if Jake decides to partake in their plans. You busy yourself with a giant box of various crackers to fill the time. 
“Let’s just go to the hotel bar. I noticed it’s kinda secluded, not very big,” Josh suggests, earning a nod of agreement from Danny and Jake.
“Sounds good to me, make sure Dean knows,” Jake says as he pulls his drenched jacket off, hanging it on a wire hanger. Shit shit shit don’t look don’t look.
“Sounds like a plan. Hey, Y/N, you gonna join us?” Josh’s voice saying your name pulls you from your daydream of thinking about watching Jake take his jacket off again and again, causing you to perk up.
“What? Sorry…”
He laughs. “When you’re done here tonight, meet us at the hotel bar, yeah?” You watch Jake’s head snap your way out of your peripheral. 
“Yeah, Y/N, join us…” Mia adds, the smallest bit of songlike quality to her voice again, just like earlier.
You push the flyaway hairs away from your face, blowing a puff of air on them as you tuck the cardboard box of crackers back into the plastic tote. “Uh, yeah, sure. If I can get everything cleaned up in time, I’ll be there…” you answer on the fly, feeling as though you can’t turn the offer down. 
Jake stays silent as he picks up his backpack and heads out the door toward the showers, flashing his devious eyes at you before the door shuts behind him. 
JAKE POV
You only had to dodge the curious eyes of a few fans as you slipped around the corners of the hotel to the bar, being the last one to arrive, like always. Josh is seated at the bar with his back to you while Danny and Sam are standing at a table off to the side with Mia and Lyla. Thankfully, the bar is empty for the most part, only a couple unsuspecting older folks closing out their tabs. You pull out the heavy mahogany chair to the right of Josh, taking a seat as the bartender approaches you. 
“Hi, uh. Soda water with lime, please?” you ask, and he nods and flits away. “Where’s Ty?” you ask. 
“On his way down in a few minutes. He um, he’s actually walking Y/N down…” he responds, flicking his eyes behind the two of you. 
“Oh,” you respond, surprised. “Is that right?” You fold your arms across the bar top as the bartender sets your drink in front of you. 
“Yeah, he actually stuck behind a little to help her clean up the green room and get everything put away,” Josh explains further. 
You smile as you place your hand on his back. “You’ve got yourself a gentleman, brother. Must say.” Josh grins at your sentiment, pulling his straw between his lips. 
“Most kind hearted person I know,” he says. “Speaking of, seems like you and her are on a little better terms now, since we spoke last,” Josh looks behind you again, making sure you are out of earshot from the other guys. 
You huff through a breath, not sure whether or not you want to go into much detail of reliving one of the most humiliating nights of your life, thus far. But, maybe talking about it will put it in the past where it belongs. “Yeah, you could say that, I suppose. Had to fuckin’ work for it though…” you laugh through your nose. 
“What does that mean?” he asks.
You swallow down a rather large drink of your soda water, running your tongue over your teeth as you contemplate an answer. “Let’s just say we… had a less than eventful night last night, and I… wasn’t able to…” you take a fast breath. “Too many beers, too many phone calls from my tech, too much bullshit from Isla, I just…” you clench your jaw, trying to say it all without really saying it. 
But Josh nearly chokes on his drink. “Ex-fucking-scuse me? Wait, no no no…” he waves his hand in your face as he turns in his seat, running his fingers over his beard. “You seriously couldn’t…”
“That’s right Josh.” You stare straight ahead of you at the mirror behind the top shelf of liquors, finding your defeated reflection staring back at you. You glance at him in the mirror, watching him cover his face with both hands as he silent-laughed.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” he cries after a few seconds of laughing at your expense. “It’s not funny.”
“No, it’s not funny. It’s humiliating, and a little sad, actually,” you say flatly. “Go ahead, laugh away, get it out of your system.” 
He slaps his palms across the bar top a few times as he catches his breath, trying not to laugh so loud that he causes a scene. “Fuck. Has that ever happened to you? What was…?”
“No, god dammit. It’s never happened. I was sloshed, my phone was ringing incessantly, between Isla’s name popping up on my phone and knowing the crew needed me, I just… she was perfect, man. Beautiful, confident, everything was there, except…” 
“...Except… you,” he finishes your sentence. 
“Yeah,” you respond with a breath. “It worked out for a few minutes, surprisingly, and fuck if it wasn’t…” you held up the A-OK sign with your fingers, popping a ‘p’ sound. “But then everything went to shit.”
“And that’s why you’re having soda water tonight?”
“Eh, yeah. Just feel like if we’re gonna have a chance to have a conversation about it all, I want to be completely present,” you admit. Suddenly you feel the presence of Danny standing behind the two of you, ordering another round for Sam and the girls. You turn your attention to him. “Speaking of… hey asshole, why the fuck are you still buying Durex condoms? You’re a grown man with money, for god’s sake, use the good shit,” you ask Danny quietly. “You’re not 15 anymore.”
For your sake, so far Danny has done a good job of keeping your secret for you after you went running to his room last night in search of protection, just in case. 
“Jake, what the fuck are you talking about?” Danny asks with wide eyes, looking between you and Josh. 
“Don’t worry Daniel, I’m already informed. The youngest of us is not, though, so keep your fuckin’ mouth shut to him, you hear?” Josh defends you. 
“Jesus Christ, Jake. Listen, I don’t want to know what the fuck is going on with you and whoever, I’m not asking any questions,” Danny says as the bartender hands him their beers. He leans in closer, whispering between you and Josh. “But I haven’t used a fucking condom in almost a year. You had me digging in my reserve stash… it’s all I had, ok? Sorry if an XL wasn’t the size you needed…” Danny backs away, laughing with his tongue out.
“OH fuck you!” you howl back. “It was a piece of shit, just do yourself a favor and get the good kind, ok?” you whip your head back around as Danny rejoins the others. 
“Anyway…” you say as you finish off your soda water. “It was a night I want to forget, honestly. But I’m gonna redeem myself. I have to. I can’t leave it like that…”
“Maybe you should turn your phone off the next time you get an opportunity, just in case…” Josh suggests, and you nod in return. 
Just then you see a pair of arms wrapping around Josh’s neck, and you turn to see Ty and Y/N walking up behind you. 
“Hey, guys!” Josh says. “Please join us…” he pulls out the seat next to him for Ty and stands to give Y/N his own seat, before she puts a hand on his arm to stop him. 
“Thanks, Josh, but Paul, Wes and Corri are coming down, too. Dean’s coming, I’m gonna sit with them for a little while. Thank you for walking me down, Ty,” she flashes the three of you a warm smile, and you want to speak to her, but it's almost as if all the air has escaped from your lungs. She looks absolutely stunning, a little fixed up, but not too much. You can tell she looks as tired as you all do from the show, but you’d hardly know it. She has on a tight low-cut t-shirt dress with an oversized denim jacket over top, her hair a mess after being up all day. Her makeup had been re-done, and you’d be lying if you said the way her legs looked in that dress didn’t have you imagining things that were still a blurry memory from last night. 
“I’ll be back later…” she says, making eye contact with you. Again, you’re at a loss for words, so you give her a sweet nod. 
“I really like her,” Ty speaks up, filling the silence that has fallen over the three of you as soon as she’s gone. “You should dump Isla and go out with her, Jake.” The straw you had been chewing falls from your mouth and straight onto the floor. 
“What? What did you say?” you ask him. 
He shrugs one shoulder as he takes the seat next to Josh. “She’s cute. No bullshit, smart, and can obviously handle all the shit you guys have been throwing at her since she got here…”
You look to Josh, who seems just as surprised as you are. 
“I dunno. I mean I like Isla, don’t get me wrong, but. There’s just something off about her, and I don’t know what it is,” he continues, and you feel Josh’s widening eyes find you, telling you he has no idea where this is coming from, either. Ty reaches his hand across Josh to sit on top of yours. He looks you directly in the eye before speaking again, “Jake, I have an excellent read on people. And I’ve never steered you wrong, have I?” he asks. 
You slowly shake your head back and forth.
“That’s right. No. And I’m here to tell you, that girl likes you. A lot. She didn’t even have to say anything to me, and I can tell. She froze up when I mentioned your name earlier. And from all the time you spent on our couch the past couple of months, I know there’s something going on. Just know I’m here to talk about it if you feel like my partner here isn’t hearing you out, okay?”
You swallow hard as you take in Ty's words. He’s right, he's always been an excellent confidant for you, even letting you come to him a couple of times in the past for advice on different subjects. You love Ty just like you love your twin, and you never once have doubted his judge of character. 
Josh nods slowly, agreeing with every harsh word Ty has just delivered to you. Ty pats your hand as he releases it. 
“Take my advice, Jacob. I know Isla isn’t making you happy, and that girl…she just left your talkative ass completely unable to speak.” He smiles hard, turning his attention to the bartender, ordering a round of shots for everyone. You finally have a free second with Josh again.
“Guy knows what he’s talking about…” Josh suggests. “Maybe you should listen to him.”
You bite at your cheek as you nod your head. You know he’s right, of course he’s right. But you also know it’s just a little bit more complicated than that. The bartender slides you a fresh soda water, and as you pinch the lime between your fingers you feel your phone buzz in your pocket. You drop the lime into the bubble water and take a quick drink as you pull your phone from your coat pocket. 
Y/N
11:46PM: Not drinking tonight?
You look over your shoulder knowing she is watching you, and you catch sight of her sitting at a cocktail table a couple of feet away with Wes and Corrine. Her eyes are locked on yours, a skinny straw between her teeth. You send her a playful smirk as you turn back to your phone, replying to her message. 
You
11:47PM: Not tonight, I have other plans…
You look at her as you pocket your phone, watching her face twist into a mischievous smile as she turns to look at you. You shrug your shoulders and grin before turning back to continue listening to Josh and Ty. You can feel her eyes on you and you have to admit it feels good. You feel like things might actually be okay between the two of you if you can continue to play your cards right.
“So do you wanna hit up that one place with the crazy wine list when we get to France? It was in Paris Metro, right?” Josh asks, tapping your arm with his hand. 
You know the exact place he is talking about, but right now your mind is somewhere else completely. “Oh, yeah yeah, it is. It was close to that tiny ass venue, remind me and I’ll look it up tomorrow on the flight.”
“Anywhere else you want to go? I think we have a day or two off while we’re there,” he asks, still trying to grab your full attention. 
“Um, maybe I’ll stop in to that rarity shop, see if they have anything interesting this time around,” you answer, doing your best to focus. 
“Oh shit, yeah, that’s where you got that crazy old guitar, right? From like the early 1900’s or whatever?”
“Yeah, exactly. Had to completely unstring the fucker to get it home without it snapping in two,” you laugh, remembering the hassle. 
“Any…other plans while in the city of love?” he croons, bumping shoulders with Ty. 
You look over your shoulder to check your surroundings before answering. You place your hand roughly on his shoulder and shake him a bit, “I guess that will depend on tonight, now won’t it?”
The two of you laugh as you notice commotion at the end of the bar. You turn yourself to look, only to find Lyla walking towards you with her phone to her ear.
“Jake?” she says, stepping up to you in a huff. She pulls the phone away from her ear and holds it out to you. “It’s Isla, she said you aren’t answering your phone, and I know I just saw you on it?”
Fucking hell Isla. 
You know you have to take the call, because if you do it now, there’s no chance of it happening later. You snatch the phone from her hand, holding it to your ear and exhaling an aggravated breath. “Hey, what’s up?”
“What’s up? I don’t know, Jake. You tell me what’s up! You aren’t answering any of my texts, you turned off your location days ago, you said you’d call me and you haven’t! Tell me what is going on!” she shouts into the phone. 
“Nothing is going on, Isla! I am at work, working, on tour. You know the thing that pays the bills? Also, I’m in a different country, a different time zone. But you know what, I know you aren’t stupid. You know all of this, so what’s up? What is so important that you had to call someone else to get ahold of me?”
You see Josh push past Lyla, grabbing you by the shoulders, “Hey I need you to do me a favor,” he says, pushing you backwards. You pull the phone away from your ear to hear him. He stares into your eyes, silently telling you to go with it.
“Oh, I have to go Isla, sorry. Here’s Lyla,” you say, pushing the phone back into Lyla’s hands. 
Lyla is staring you down as Josh finally stops, letting go of your shoulders. “I uh, I need you to go run an errand for me. Well, I need Y/N to go run an errand for me, but I need Dean to stay here to field those girls in the lobby, so I was wondering if you could accompany her?” he asks, raising his eyebrows. 
“What?” you ask, admittedly very confused. 
“Yeah, just walk with me,” he says, walking you over towards the tables. “I need you to go run this errand—” he pauses, looking over his shoulder to see if anyone was close enough to hear him. “Okay, yeah there is no errand.”
You send him yet another completely bewildered look. 
“There’s no errand, just…I don’t know, get out of here before someone asks questions. Go. Take her with you. She already knows and she thinks there is an errand,” he smiles smugly, “You can thank me later.”
For a moment you hesitate, unsure if you should go with his harebrained idea, but you decide to do it, knowing that he really only has your best interest at heart. He pretends to show you something on his phone, and you nod like you understand. You exhale a breath and nod towards him, “Yep, I’ll take care of that for you.”
“Yeah, perfect. Make sure you do a good job,” he quips, the meaning definitely not lost on you. 
You toss your hand towards him as you walk away, locking eyes with Y/N who is waiting near the door. You swallow down your nerves and make your way towards her, ready to make amends. 
“You uh, ready to go?” you ask, playing along with the charade. You pull the door open and allow her to step out first into the dimly lit hallway of the hotel lobby.
“Yeah, I just… Did he tell you what he needed or anything?” she asks, a confused look on her face. You laugh to yourself and purse your lips before answering. 
“Well, he doesn’t need anything. He kinda… bent the truth a bit to give us a chance to leave alone,” you answer honestly. 
A hum leaves her lips, as she stops in place turning to face you, “And how do you know that I want to leave with you?”
There's a playful grin on her face, but there's also a tinge of truth to her tone. You can’t read her, but you give it your best shot.
“Well, I have a pretty good feeling about it, but please enlighten me if I am mistaken,” you answer. 
She rocks back onto the heels of her shoes, turning to continue walking, “I see, are these those ‘other plans’ you were talking about?”
You bite your lips together and turn to look at her, “That remains to be seen, I suppose.”
The two of you start to approach the elevator bank, and you know you need to make your move. She hasn’t said much, or really given you any indication of whether she is into this playful little game or not, so you decide to cut your losses and leave the ball in her court. 
“I’m gonna go up to my room for the night. You can come up and join me for a night cap, or you can head back to your own room. Completely your choice, but if you decide to join me, I’m in room 507,” you finish, stopping just shy of the elevators. You give her a smile and nod your head before continuing to walk to the waiting elevator. 
Your heart is racing as you step inside, wondering if she is going to follow you, or better yet take you up on your offer. You press the button for floor five and watch as the doors close, a rush of nerves spreading through your body. You shake out your hands and pull your phone from your pocket seeing a myriad of missed calls and texts from Isla. You muted her notifications after everything last night, and you know that’s what prompted her call to Lyla. 
You tap your keycard to the door and step inside, the cool air of the AC hitting you like a brick wall. You step over and turn on the heat, needing the room to be at least a few degrees warmer. You take all of your things out of your pockets and deposit them on the nightstand, deciding to take Josh’s advice and power off your phone completely. You toss your jacket onto the small couch, removing the hair tie from your finger and tying your hair up into a knot. You reach for a bottle of water from the mini bar, downing what had to be half of it as you start to pace the room. 
You wonder if maybe she’s texted, or added a song, anything to give you some kind of indication of her answer, but you know that your phone is off and that you’re just going to have to wait this out the old fashioned way. You kick off your boots and push them to the side of your suitcase, digging around inside of it to change clothes, but deciding to wait just a little bit longer, just in case. You unbutton your shirt though, letting it hang open on your body as you step away from your suitcase.
You sit on the edge of the bed, looking at the flashing clock on the nightstand and watching as the numbers flash as they change. Fuck, maybe she really isn’t coming.  
You lay back, completely spread across the fluffy white sheets letting out a sigh of exhaustion. The past two days have drained you. Mentally, physically… You felt like you could sleep for three days straight given the opportunity. You let your eyes flutter closed for just a second, and that's when you heard it. The tiniest knock on the door. Any softer and you wouldn’t have heard it, chalking it up to your brain playing tricks on you. 
You sat up instantly, listening for it again, and sure enough another set of small knocks echoed through the room. 
Holy shit, she came. 
You shoot up from the bed, smoothing out your hair and shaking out your arms. You were nervous, you’d admit that, but you were also bound and determined to make tonight better than the last. You’d thought of nothing else, since. 
HER POV
The sound of a little bit of rustling inside the door causes your heart to pick up speed, the sudden clarity of what you’re doing hitting you across the face. Sure, last night you’d been in a similar circumstance, but tonight…things feel different. Your second set of knocks on his door has finally jostled him. 
You hear the door knob turn and Jake opens it, hiding a little bit behind it as he invites you inside. 
“Hey,” he says, his voice raspy. “Didn’t think you were gonna come up.”
You walk inside the room, smelling the remnants of the cologne he spritzed on before he came down to the bar still lingering in the air. “I almost didn’t, but, I think…we need to talk about a few things…” you reply, awkwardly holding your hands together at your stomach as he closes the door behind you. You feel your breath hitch in your throat as you finally catch sight of him, his black button-down undone all the way, and his hair tied back in a low knot at his neck. Jesus Christ, he’s a sight, even when he isn’t even trying. 
“Yeah, I think you’re right,” he agrees, patting the half-made bed for you to sit on. “You want a drink?” he asks, motioning to the mini fridge. 
“Ah, no, I’m okay, thank you,” you reply, finally setting your purse down on the bed beside you. Things feel a bit different now as you’re both sober and serious, about to discuss something so inherently embarrassing it was almost too painful to even think about. But it has to be done, suck it up, and get it over with so that you can get on with the night…right?
“Yeah, me neither,” he agrees. You watch as he pulls a pair of sweatpants from his bag. “Care if I go change real quick?” he asks, erring on the side of etiquette for some reason, when last night you both saw more of each other than you’d really planned on. 
“No, go ahead,” you say, and he slips into the bathroom. You take this second to take off your thick denim jacket and hang it on the back of a chair, and also remove your shoes and socks and place them neatly beside the door. You’re left in the comfy tight t-shirt dress, and you try to remind yourself that last night never even happened. It wasn’t real. Be cool. 
You relax back on the pillows a little as you strive to get comfortable on the bed, not wanting to seem too relaxed but also be nonchalant, like this conversation was about to be the simplest thing you’d ever done. You tuck your barren legs up underneath you, leaning on your elbow against the thick white pile of pillows. 
He finally emerges, now clad in a pair of dark gray sweatpants that are hugging his hips, and he’s completely devoid of a shirt at all. Before you can drink him in all the way, he’s sitting on the bed in front of you, crossing his legs and reaching for the remote, muting the TV. 
You sit up to meet him, suddenly surprised at the amount of attention he’s paying you. He takes both of your hands into his, clammy but warm on your skin, and brings them to gather in his lap. 
“Y/N,” he begins, “I don’t want to talk about this just as much as you probably don’t, but… I think I have some explaining to do,” he starts, his voice just a tad bit shaky as you know he is about to bare it all. 
“I feel absolutely terrible about how things ended up last night. That was…not me, at all. I’d had too much to drink, and my phone was being the annoying piece of shit that it is… anyway, I’m not trying to make excuses.” He squeezes your hands and scoots himself a little closer to you, still staring directly into your eyes. “I know we’ve only known each other a few days, but. You’ve got me caught up, and…it’s not something I’m used to, Y/N,” he giggles, making you smirk back. 
“Last night should have had a different outcome completely, and I blame myself for it. You can blame me for it, too. I just want you to know I’m sorry, and you were… fuck, you were beyond perfect—”
You cut him off, “You’re sure it wasn’t anything I’d done?”
“No! No no, you were fucking…flawless, Y/N. My vision may have been a bit blurry but you had it all. You have it all. Absolutely everything. And I feel like such a fucking dick that I didn’t get to…repay you. Give it back to you… you deserved more, and I’m…mortified. Humiliated over it. I wanted to dig a hole and cover myself up and never ever come out of it, honestly. I still do. It’s like the worst thing that can— anyway, you deserve to be treated right, you deserve to be shown the same kind of effort you were showing me last night…” you feel his hand come up to caress your cheek, his thumb brushing across your bottom lip. 
You lean a little into his hand, the feeling of his touch making you flutter with butterflies. “…And I haven’t thought of another goddamn thing since.”
You giggle a little. “Come on now,” you say shyly. “You’re a famous rock star, there’s no way your mind’s been taken up with me all day. I’m probably the lowest on your list of past flings.” You’re honest in your admission of feelings, but you secretly hope it will just fuel him to keep talking. 
“No, think again, Y/N.” His voice suddenly deepens. “That’s absolutely untrue.” His fingertips trickle to the back of your neck. “The way your hips felt in my hands, the way you took over control and put matters into your own hands…fuck. And your mouth…” his thumb is pressing a little harder, now. “Yeah, I haven’t had a clean thought all day, if we’re being honest,” he laughs. You pull one hand away from his grip and place it on his knee, squeezing it just a little as your bodies slowly inch closer and closer in toward one another. 
“I’ve never met another woman that’s captivated me so quickly before,” he continues, his breaths now shorter and chopped as he speaks. “You came in and fucked my whole world up, Y/N… You make me feel things I haven’t felt in years. You make me nervous…” 
Your faces are within inches now as you return his gaze, listening to him talk. Your hand drifts higher on his thigh, gently squeezing at the muscle as it climbs. His hand is still firmly gripping your face, the ends of his fingertips now tickling at your hairline. You can feel the tingles going up and down your spine like flashing lights, each word that escapes from his mouth setting the next one on fire. 
Finally you speak. “Look, Jake, you don’t have to explain anything else to me. I realize that something was off last night, and that isn’t how things probably go for you normally. I’ve felt our chemistry, and there’s something…there, ya know? And honestly there for a few minutes, we actually had things going, and I think we had it figured out. You felt…” you bite your lips together, feeling a little shy. “You felt really fucking good. But I don’t want you to be embarrassed or upset with yourself. We’re adults, and I’m aware that shit happens. Not every time can be perfect. You were still on my mind all day long, today. Been hoping you would text me, something,” you go on, feeling his fingertips grip and release your hair every few seconds.
A sly smile creeps to his lips as you watch his eyes squint. He looks relieved, but there’s also something else. “I hope you know that I’m more than capable of…making you feel good, and I’d really like it if you’d give me a second chance to redeem myself. I wanna prove it to you.”
You can do nothing but nod your head, feeling the magnetism of his pull bringing you forward, both of your chests heaving with want for each other now. You’re absolutely dying to touch him, reach out and feel the electricity radiating from his body, but you stop yourself. You’re going to let him make the first move. 
You exhale onto him, letting the thick, hot air from your lungs dance across his lips as he releases your other hand, letting it come up to cup your other cheek. Your foreheads balance on one another’s, and you can feel the palpable tension building up second by second. 
“Thank you, for hearing me out,” he whispers onto your lips, before gently pressing them onto yours, an almost featherlight peck. You both pull back for a second, taking a final look at one another before you crash into each other’s mouths again, heated, fiery, and wanting. 
Your other hand grips his thigh, and you’re almost unable to stop yourself from pouncing on him, laying him back into the sheets and devouring him, but you hold back. You want to take your time, and you know he wants to do this the right way. 
The kiss deepens, your tongues reaching far to taste every bit that they can. His hands slowly drift from your jawline to your shoulders and finally to your chest, lightly letting his fingertips descend before resting again on your hips. You’re both still sitting cross-legged on the bed, your knees touching each other’s as you each lean in. You want to make the next move, but again, you want to let him steer this ship as much as he wants to. 
So for the moment, you let yourself enjoy his kiss, concentrating and honing in on committing every detail of it to your memory. He’s not forceful, but he doesn’t hold back, either. It’s the perfect mix of control and submission, and you haven’t even moved past the most basic part yet. His hands move again, sneaking under your legs to pull you up onto him, wrapping your legs around his waist as you sit on his lap. 
Your chests are pressed together now, heaving and already breathless. You can feel that he’s excited below you; thankfully things are already going way better than they were last night. You continue to devour one another, touching and feeling and pulling every piece of him that you could, and him doing the same in return. A quick visual pops into your mind- you’d worn a skimpy little red lace thong just in case, and now you’re silently thanking yourself for the choice, knowing that when the time comes, he’s going to go absolutely insane at the sight of you in it. 
You take a second to pull away, grinding yourself down onto him as you trail lovebites down his neck and shoulder, and the sounds that growl from his chest make your nails dig into his skin. He hisses a little bit, but you’re more than positive that he likes the sensation. His hands grip your hips, pulling you down onto him again, making you take complete notice that he wants you just as badly. He leans his neck sideways as your tongue drifts from his collarbone up his jugular, the artery pulsing hard beneath your lips. You bite it lightly before continuing up to his ear, gently taking his ear lobe between your teeth. 
You feel him pull back and laugh a little through his nose, and you’re sure you’ve found a sensitive spot. You grind yourself onto him again, this time pulling a full on groan from him. You leave your mouth hovering over his ear, blowing tiny bits of cold air onto the trail of saliva you’d left behind. 
“I feel you, baby…” you whisper, allowing yourself the satisfaction of using a pet name for the very first time. His body language shifts, all his muscles tightening as you speak. “Wanna feel you more…” you mutter quietly, making his dick twitch between your legs. You could feel your warmth on the bulge of his sweatpants, and you secretly wish he would get on with it.
“You wanna do this…” he whispers back, his voice tight and gravely.
You nod hard, completely positive that you were going to go ahead with this second chance. “Wouldn’t be here if I didn’t…”
Finally, he reaches down to grip your thighs, squeezing his palms over them before gripping the hem of your dress, rolling it up over your hips, your chest, and finally over your head. Your arms fly up to help him remove the dress completely before he lets it fall to the floor beside you. His eyes black out with lust, his jaw falling open at the sight of you only in your bra and panties. He saw you like this last night, of course, but things are different now. Each of you has something to prove.
“Fuck, you’re gorgeous…” he says, immediately burying his face between your breasts, rolling his tongue just beneath the thin fabric of your black bra. “Who knew you had all this hiding…” His hands reach up and grip the material, pulling it down to reveal your tits, bouncing and standing at attention for him. His hands waste no time rolling across them, kneading the muscle as your head falls back. His fingers massage your nipples and pull at the skin, sending a jolt of electricity straight to your core. God, you swear you could get off just from this…
He puts his right hand at the center of your sternum, pressing you back gently until you’re laid out on the bed. He scrambles to his knees, finally hovering over you a little. He lets his fingers glide from your chest down your stomach, finally hooking in the hem of your thong. He doesn’t pull it off, though… Instead he runs his fingers along the hem, around your hip, and to your asscheek, using his leverage and grip on the muscle to yank you back down toward him.
Your knee bends on its own from the motion, causing your legs to part a little as your core hits his knee. He bends down, laying sweet kisses to your stomach and hips, causing you to buck up and whine with every tiny little touch. 
“Please Jake…” you think you might go insane if he doesn’t touch you soon, your core absolutely throbbing with want for him. Last night, you felt these same feelings. You felt this pull to him, this need. But after how it all went down, sitting there on your bed staring at the wall was the only reaction that seemed plausible… no post-sex afterglow, no blissful body aches… just an unsatisfied and discouraged feeling of letdown. 
But now, twenty-four hours later, as you feel your body being pulled into him and touched by him again, you want nothing more than to replicate those few minutes of really good sex that you’d been able to achieve last night. Your body was practically begging you to let him have it. 
You hear the air kick on in the room, and though you know it’s the heat, you still feel the blow of the fan forcing air across your nearly nude body. You feel chill bumps cover your entire body as you shudder a little.
“Fuck, got cold in here, didn’t it,” Jake breathes, shivering a little bit himself. “Come on, let’s get under the covers.” You don’t argue with him, feeling a chill diving down deep into your bones. 
You sit up as he stands, pulling the heavy white linens back for you to get under. “Wait,” you say, walking on your knees back toward him. You hook your thumbs into the waistband of his pants, returning to kissing him hard as you pull them and his boxers all the way off. He smiles onto your lips, falling sideways a little as he trips over them around his ankles. His arms wrap around you, pulling you in for a tight embrace as your hands tangle in his hair, gripping into it as you pull him back down onto the bed with you. 
You both slide underneath and cozy up, letting the warmth come over you and calm you back down again. It’s the sight of him, though, crawling into the bed with his eyes trained on you, fully nude with his bottom lip tucked into his teeth that sends you over the edge. Suddenly your chest is heavy and your eyes are glazed with lust, that blinding feeling of carnal need setting into your lower abdomen. You don’t feel this feeling much, but when you do, you know that what you’re about to experience will be nothing short of mind blowing…it’s like the universe knows you need to let go of all human emotion if you’re going to let your body experience the interaction just as it is. 
Suddenly you find yourself flipped up and straddling his legs, pulling the comforter over your head as you descend down his body. “Whoa whoa, where you going?” he smirks, his smile crooked as his hands balance by his head. 
“You can prove the rest to me in a minute. I never got to finish this part last night…” you say, disappearing into the darkness of the covers. You hear his laugh fall out as an exasperated huff, but he knows better than to stop you. You put your fingertips on the insides of his thighs, pushing them away from one another as you lightly tickle your nails up them, stopping short as you take his fully-hard dick in your palm, slowly working it from bottom to top. 
“Thereeeee you are…” you sing in a teasing tone. Fuck yeah, there he is. This is what you felt that night in the bathroom. This is the him that wasn’t out to play last night. 
“Shut the fuck up,” you hear him laugh lowly, gently patting a hand against your cheek. You can’t see him, but you know the exact expression that’s probably on his face right now. 
You squeeze him as you work your hand, gently letting your lips graze his head as you stick your tongue out a little, barely wetting the tip. You taste his saltiness on your tongue, a tell-tale sign that he is absolutely ready for whatever else the night has to bring. You let the flavor sit on your tongue for a second before you take him down completely, knowing that if he has any memory of you doing this last night, it was probably spotty, at best. 
“Fuck, baby…shit…” he says from the head of the bed, his thighs clenching together a little as his hands dip under the blankets to tangle in your hair. You begin to go to work, feeling halfway happy you are hiding away, able to perform without his watchful eye, but also a little sad he isn’t getting to see the show you’re putting on for him. 
Like he can hear your thoughts, he speaks again, “What, you not gonna let me watch you?” He asks with a little demand in his tone, pushing the sheets up over your head to finally make eye contact. You decide to capitalize on it, fluttering your eyelashes as you take him as far as he can go, letting his tip graze the back of your throat. If he wants to watch, you’re going to give him something worth watching. 
His reaction is warranted as you see him lose composure for a second, letting his head tilt back into the pillows as his jaw falls open and he lets out a cry that will be playing in the back of your mind until you fall asleep tonight. His hand tightens in your hair while the other one scoops up what has fallen in front of your face, moving it away from your mouth. His teeth grit hard as his hand pulls your hair, lifting you off and back down onto him just a little bit. 
Your imagination starts to soar; it’s been a while since you’ve had a good romp, and after the letdown of last night and Jake promising to give you a good run tonight, you decide to keep the show rolling. You pop your lips off of him letting him drop your hair, spinning yourself around backwards to straddle him that way. Again, you thank yourself for the everything shower and shave this morning, knowing that now, the thin strip of red lace fabric is the only thing covering you as your ass is fully on display in front of his face. 
Is it an invitation? Kind of…he said he wants to show off for you…right?
“God damn, girl…” he says through another rasp, his hand gripping your asscheek as you take him in your mouth again. You sway your hips side to side, arching your back to give him a full view of you. You feel the slightest tinge of embarrassment at your somewhat bold switch up, but after feeling his reaction and the actual pounding of the blood pumping through his dick, you know it’s all worth it. 
Finally, after a string of curses from his mouth behind you, you feel his fingers slip under the thong, pulling it to the side as his fingers begin to explore you. First soft and gentle, but then switching to more of a rhythm as he feels how soaked you are. You moan onto his dick, letting your stomach fall into his as you lean back into his touch. 
“Fuck, you’re so wet baby, just like last night. Gonna take care of you, I swear it…” he grumbles. His thumb finds your clit after pulling your wetness down to coat it, his digits slipping and sliding as he uses more pressure. 
You whimper loudly without warning, the fire burning in your belly finding you more quickly than you’d anticipated. 
You pop your mouth off of him for a breath, and he takes the second of separation to grab both of your hips, pulling you backward toward him. His tongue swipes once from your clit to your opening before he slides himself underneath you in one quick motion, pulling you down to be completely seated on his face. 
Oh, there we go…
Should you do it? Should you go all in?
You only have a few seconds to toss it over in your mind before his hands are wrapped around your thighs, pulling you down onto him even more. Yeah, he wants you to. His mouth is immediately connected to you, his tongue outstretched and licking over you as your hands balance on his stomach. “Fuuuuccckk…” you whine at a high-pitched tone, letting your head tilt back on your shoulders. 
He’s wasting nothing at all. No time, no contact, no area of you goes untouched by his mouth. You begin swirling your hips, picking up a little every few seconds as you grind onto his tongue. It’s hot, but you still feel the chill of the air in the room, causing you to break out in another rush of goosebumps from the air and the pleasure. You catch a small glimpse of the two of you in the hotel room mirror, the visual more than you can bear as his tongue flicks across your sensitive bud again. 
“Jake…shit…if you keep doing that…” your nails dig into his pecs again as you begin to feel your knees burning, your hips swirling and bouncing as he holds you steadily connected with his mouth. Even when you try to pull off to give him a breather, he pats your thighs with his fingertips, telling you to come back down. 
“Mmmhm…” he agrees, shaking his face against you, the slight prickle of his mustache a blissful roughness on your sensitive spots. “Lemme have it, baby…” he works out, bending one knee up to sturdy himself. You can hear the pants of breath he’s taking as he talks before yanking your body weight right back down onto him again. 
Your vision is beginning to blur as you feel the tightness forming in your stomach, every inch of you on fire as you feel the release building and building. Your movements become chopped and faulty, and just as you’re about to lose all composure, Jake grips the back elastic of your thong, letting the stretchy material snap back against your skin. The tinge of pain sends you toppling over the edge, your entire body shaking and trembling as everything goes white. He continues his work, his tongue still snaking and swirling in the most animalistic way, letting you ride through it until you’re back on earth. 
When you’re finally able to breathe again, you lean forward onto all fours so he can sit up all the way, and instead of crashing back down beside him, all you want to do is give him more. Let him give you more. That was just a preview. Now…you want him. You need to feel him inside of you again. 
You turn in the bed, catching sight of his face covered in your slick…his lips pink and blotchy as he runs his hands across his face. You inch your way back over to him, using your own palm to wipe from his forehead down to his chin, twisting your fingers over his chin to bring his face crashing onto yours again. You let your tongue sink into his mouth, tasting yourself as you kiss him with everything you have. 
Your hands are all over each other as he takes you in one arm, pulling you back underneath the covers with him again. “I can’t fuckin’ wait any longer, Y/N…I need you right the fuck now.” 
You’re lying beneath him now, still riding the high of your overwhelmingly good orgasm, but quickly making your way back up to arousal again with the sight of him so wanting for you. His state is almost pathetic, the look on his face pitiful but commanding as his jaw clenches over and over again. 
Your hands are attached to his sides as he reaches into the floor for his pants from earlier, pulling out a little square package. You notice it’s a different kind than the one he had last night, and you’re thankful he’s switched brands. 
“Hurry, Jake…” you say, your heart pounding in your ears. You watch as he rips the wrapper in half with his teeth, removing the colored condom and spitting the trash onto the floor. He’s sat back on his haunches and you perk up onto your elbows, using one hand to help him slide it over himself, completely hard and ready for you. 
You feel like you could spontaneously combust at any second, the need for him stronger than anything you’ve felt in a long, long time. The way he looks sitting between your parted knees, adoring every inch of you as he swallows down any inhibition or doubt that he’s still holding onto from the embarrassment of last night. 
He takes a second more to place his hands on your knees, letting them drift down between your legs as he connects his two middle fingers to swirl your clit again. Your legs part even further as he kisses you again, finally towering over you completely before removing his hand, grabbing himself and lining up with you. 
“Show me again…” you whisper into his ear, his hair completely falling all over your face. It’s mere seconds before you feel him gently press into you, only an inch or two before retracting his hips, letting out a calming exhale before he presses forward again, this time a little further. The stretch is blowing your mind already, your nails traveling down his back to grip his ass, willing him to fill you to the hilt. 
“Easy, baby…just take it as I give it to you,” he growls in your ear, and his commanding words make you cease your movements altogether, releasing your strong grip on his back. 
“No no…keep doing that, though…fuck, keep doing that…” he begs, touching his forehead to yours. His brows are pinched together, his tongue darting out to lick his lips every few seconds as his eyelids flutter open and closed. You do as he says, digging your nails into him as he thrusts slowly, each time a little further in. 
The sensation is overwhelming, taking away every single one of your senses and directing them toward what he is making you feel right now. The noises you already can’t stop yourself from making are bouncing off the walls as you look behind him, watching his hips move the covers as he fills you, over and over until he finally bottoms out. 
“God…fuck, Jake….” You both make pathetic sounds as he pauses there, letting himself feel you wholly. He pulls up, taking a rutted breath as he makes desperate eye contact with you. You grab the back of his neck and pull him into another kiss, eliciting a high pitched wail from him as he starts picking up a pace. 
He breaks away after a second or two, “‘m not gonna go easy on you, baby…let me know if I need to slow down…” his words rip through your chest as if you’d just gotten a shot to the heart. You shake your head side to side. 
“Lemme see it, come on…” you pant, already feeling your muscles doing their best to pull him in as far as your body will let him. 
He picks up the pace now, jutting his hips deeply into you. The feeling is making your head feel cloudy and dense, but the pleasure filling your bloodstream is the only thing keeping you tethered to the here and now. He pauses, sitting up a little to toss your leg over his shoulder, slowing down just a little bit as he hits from a different angle. This one is deeper and titled a little, and you can feel the tip of him grazing your cervix with every push. 
He can tell your facial expression has changed as he slows down again, almost to a complete stop. “What baby, you okay?” he asks. 
“No no, yeah, don’t stop…please…” you motion with your hand for him to continue, the sickening pleasure mixed with the tightening pain, a blissful concoction that is hard to admit you love. But you do. You love it all. 
His pace becomes furious again as he picks up where he left off, your leg draped over his shoulder as he has one hand over your knee, and the other gripping into the muscle of your thigh. He’s squeezing so hard, and his hips are pounding at such a forceful pace that you’re sure he is leaving bruises, but they’ll be bruises that you accept without argument, admiring them as you look in the mirror tomorrow. 
He’s everything, right now…his eyes delving deep into yours as you drink him in, letting your sounds let him know how good he’s making you feel. How perfect you fit, how much better this is going than it did last night…
Suddenly he pulls all the way out of you, lifting your body to flip onto your stomach. His hands are under your hips, pulling them back again just the same as he had done earlier, but this time he hops to the floor, pulling you back again to meet him on the edge. “Hold on, baby,” he instructs, and you do, gripping the sheets tightly in your fists as you feel him enter you from behind, this time. 
The height couldn’t be more perfect as this new position makes you drop your face to the mattress, fully surrendering yourself to him. You haven’t felt anything like him before, each and every move he makes is making your nerve endings burn with fire. 
He lays a harsh smack to your ass, and you grunt in rebuttal, letting the delicious pain surge through your muscle. His pace quickens again, and his hand is on the back of your neck, pinning his fingers to either side of your throat from behind. “Fuck yes…” you breathe out, your eyes beginning to fill with clouds. 
You hear the smack of his lips, knowing that he’d just wet his finger, and suddenly his other hand quickly finds your clit again, swirling tiny circles on it and sending you into a whole new wave of satisfaction. Your cries push out with every thrust, and you feel like you’re on the verge of tears. It’s all overwhelming and encompasses your every thought, the sounds of your bodies hitting together making it all even more devious when you close your eyes, imagining the scene. 
He continues this way for a minute or so, the sounds of your bodies smacking together building up your second orgasm on their own. 
Then, he’s pulling your torso up, your back meeting his chest as he slows the pace of his thrusts, but never letting up on the swirl of his fingers. “You’re so beautiful, Y/N…so perfect…” his words are calm now as he begins kissing your neck, still pumping in and out of you. His arm wraps around your front, pulling you back into him so you don’t collapse forward. He can tell you’re close. 
“Jake…I’m almost…” you breathe, and you feel his dick twitch inside you. 
“Me too, baby. Keep squeezing me just like that…” he asks as a whisper in your ear, his mouth still connected to your neck, his other hand gripping your tit. 
With a particularly pointed flick to your clit, and a deep thrust, your entire world is crumbling beneath you, your body falling to pieces as you let it all go. His fingers squeeze your nipple hard, sending that sensation into overdrive. He isn’t far behind as his grip tightens all over you, his pace now rutted and messy as you hear him groaning in your ear. The entire world goes quiet for a minute as you hit the peak of your highs together, rendering both of you speechless as you hold your breath. 
“Motherfucker…” he says as he finally comes back down, releasing you to fall forward onto the bed. All of your muscles are limp and lifeless as he collapses beside you, both of you too sweaty now to care about cuddling back up together. 
“Yeah, mother fucker,” you laugh, pulling away a few strands of hair from his sweaty forehead and cheek. “That’s was…you were…” you open your mouth to find the words, but they simply don’t come. 
He props up on his elbows, kissing a sweet peck onto your shoulder. “I don’t know what you were going to say, but I agree…” he chuckles. “You’re near goddamn perfect, Y/N.”
“Near?! What do you mean, near?!” you joke, shoving his mouth off of your shoulder. 
“I’m kidding, I’m kidding. Fuckin’ amazing, is what I meant. Flawless in every single way,” he says, his cheeks turning the sweetest shade of crimson. 
You take turns in the bathroom cleaning up, and you can’t wipe the smile that’s permanently plastered to your face. He’d done it all, he’d proven himself to you, in the most mind-blowing way you could have dreamt up. You don’t want to admit it, but you can see yourself getting caught up by Jake just as he admitted he is caught up by you. And after sex like that, well…
You begin to pick up your things from the floor and redress just as he is coming out of the bathroom. “No no, where are you going?” he asks, his tone a little let down. 
“I’m…going back to my room…” you say, caught off guard. 
“No. Stay here, please? After that I– I don’t know, I don’t want you to go,” he says. “Please stay.”
You laugh, tossing your shoes back into the corner. “You sure? You won’t like, get in trouble or anything?”
He scoffs. “The fuck would I get in trouble for?”
“I’m your employee, Jake…” you remind him. 
His face contorts up. “I don’t like how that sounds, remember.” He reaches into his bag and pulls out a large white t-shirt, tossing it your way. You pull it over your head as he flips the light off, pulling the disheveled sheets back again for you both to climb into. You have to admit, you’re glad he asked you to stay, as you’re not sure if your tired muscles would have liked walking down the long hall to the elevator. 
He pulls you in to spoon him, turning on the TV to the guide channel. His body feels perfectly aligned with yours as his hand rests on the outside of your thigh, the other propping his head up above yours. 
“You’re a woman that I’ve taken a keen interest in, and am enjoying pursuing, and well, occasionally sleeping with every now and then. Who sometimes goes on errands for us,” he says in retaliation, making you giggle. 
“…and your company also signs my paychecks,” you retort. 
He hisses in a quick breath. “Ehhhh yeah, I guess you’re right. But just, I don’t like how it sounds. So quit saying it like that.” He leans down and presses a wet kiss to your cheek, sealing in his words. 
“Okay, okay,” you agree. 
After a few minutes, he speaks again through a yawn. “So, did I prove myself? Was my attempt at redemption enough to make you forget last night ever even happened?” he asks. 
You close your eyes as you press your ass into his groin again, making him hop back a little in surprise. “Jake, I told myself last night never even happened as soon as you left my room,” you admit, and you are telling the truth. “I knew there was no way…”
You hear him huff a tiny laugh, “You had some faith in me, baby?”
Your blood runs a little hotter every time he calls you baby, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t completely enamor you. 
You twist your body beneath his hand to lay on your back. You fluff the pillow beneath your head, feeling his free hand move to assist you in finding the perfect position. His right hand doesn’t leave your body though, sliding just under the hem of your shirt to rest on your bare stomach. “Maybe just a little.”
JAKE POV
Her skin is warm beneath your hand, her body still cooling down after the activities of the last hour. It was perfect. Every single thing you ever wanted it to be and even a little more. She is perfect. Your heart nearly jumped out of your chest when you saw her grabbing her things, there was no way you could let her leave this room thinking that this was just sex. I mean, yeah maybe that was your intention tonight, but there was something else. You know that the sex wouldn’t have been what it was if there wasn’t something more lying beneath the surface. You wanted her to stay here with you. You wanted to hold her and be with her and enjoy the afterglow.
Even in the dark room you can’t take your eyes off of her. The way the TV is flashing blue light across her face she almost looks angelic. You let your fingers trace tiny circles into her skin as you look at her, completely enamored with every single detail of her. You reach for the remote flipping through the channels looking for anything you could mindlessly fall asleep to. 
“Should I pick something and show you what a good movie looks like?” you tease, tickling your fingers into her stomach. 
“I know what good movies are, thank you very much,” she quips, turning her head to look at you. Her eyes are shiny as they look into yours, lingering for just a second before flicking back to the TV. 
Her hand reaches up to cradle your jaw, your face falling into her touch on its own accord. 
“Hey…” she whispers, waiting for you to look at her. “Tell me why you were so in your head yesterday.”
Fuck. Do you tell her? Do you tell her the real reason? Do you risk ruining this moment with the truth?
“Ahh…It was a lot of things. Tour, traveling, the drinking, obviously. Also just a lot of pressure to do this and do that…or, don’t do this, and don’t do that. It’s hard sometimes, living this lifestyle. It’s incredibly isolating, and after a while you almost start to lose touch with what’s real,” you answer, skirting around the real reason. 
She rolls to face you, not letting her hand leave your jaw as she presses a soft, delicate kiss to your lips. You feel your whole body relax into her, feeling a peace come over you that you haven’t felt in a long time. A kiss that told you she understands. 
“I’m here, and this is real and you don’t have to feel isolated anymore, if you don’t want to,” she breathes. 
You kiss her again, pulling her into you just a little closer. “I don’t want to.”
“Good,” she whispers, her lips brushing yours. 
She drops her hand and nuzzles her face into your neck, a soft sigh falling from her lips. You know she’s tired, because you’re tired. You let your own head fall back onto the pillows, your arm wrapped around her shoulders as she snuggles into your side. You can’t help but let Josh’s words from yesterday float through your mind. You wonder if what you are doing is wrong, if you should make sure Isla knows you two are done before pursuing Y/N any further. Though, it’s a little too late for that.
You push it away as you feel Y/N drifting off to sleep on your chest, but now your mind is racing and you need to quiet it. You reach over, grabbing your phone from the nightstand and powering it back on. You’re immediately met with about ten missed calls and too many texts to count. You quickly open them, clearing out the notifications but paying no mind to what they say. Instead you open your shared playlist, the perfect song coming to mind. 
You sneakily add ‘Are You Satisfied?’ by Reignwolf to the playlist, knowing she will get a laugh out of that when she sees it. You turn your face to her head, letting your lips brush the crown of her head as you breathe her in. The feeling of her next to you and her deep rhythmic breathing is starting to slow your busy mind. You lock your phone and place it back on the nightstand, turning off the TV and letting your eyes close. You replay the night in your head, every perfect second of it, praying that it will make an appearance in your dreams tonight. 
You aren’t sure what woke you, maybe the heat of the room, or the slamming of the door in the hallway. Your eyes pop open, scratchy and dry as they adjust to the darkness of the room. You immediately feel Y/N next to you, no longer on your chest but her legs still tangled with yours. Your heart swells at the vision of her curled up in the bed next to you. 
You reach out for your phone, tapping the screen to see what time it is. 4:46AM.
You see that a new song has been added to your shared playlist, and you smile knowing that Y/N must have woken up sometime during the night and saw your addition. You tap the notification and bring up the playlist to see what she added, letting a small laugh leave your lips as it loads. ‘Whatta Man’ by Salt-n-Pepa was added two hours ago. She’s so fucking cute you could hardly stand it. You had half a mind to wake her up and show her all over again just how much you wanted her. 
However, when you close out of the playlist a new round of missed calls graces your screen, along with a seemingly endless string of texts from Isla. You let out a sigh as you tap the message icon to see what she could possibly need this badly. 
Opening the messages you see a link to Danny’s close friends story sent at nearly one in the morning. You furrow your brow and tap on the video, seeing Sam and Lyla taking tequila shots together, but of course in the background of the video just barely noticeable, is you leaving the bar with Y/N. 
Goddamnit Daniel. 
Isla
1:12AM: Who the fuck that girl Jake?
Isla
1:25AM: She’s cute, nice!
Isla
1:30AM: Is this why you’ve been so “busy” all the sudden?
Isla
1:41AM: Does she even know about us or is she just some whore you found while you’re there
Isla
1:52AM: Nevermind! It was almost too easy to find her profile, this her? Y/N?  
Isla
1:55AM: Oh my god, she works for you… 
Isla
1:56AM: Management is gonna love this. ❤️
Isla
1:58AM: How about you just call me tomorrow
Mother fucker. Motherfucker. 
You debate getting out of bed to call her right now. You know how she is and you know what she is capable of, and you’d be goddamned if that woman was going to ruin this for you. You start to type, the fury boiling in your veins as your thumbs swipe across the keyboard, but suddenly you feel Y/N stirring next to you and it’s as if all the rage you were holding in disappeared. She rolls towards you, her hand coming to rest on your arm as she snuggles her head down into the pillow. You felt yourself relax under her touch, and instantly the message on your screen didn’t seem to matter. You deleted everything you typed and closed out of it, placing your phone back on the nightstand. 
You looked at her, sleeping so peacefully next to you and decided that all of that could wait. You knew that it would only be a matter of time before Isla made her move, and when she did she would strike to kill. You grabbed Y/N’s hand and pulled her into you, feeling her fit so perfectly, so naturally into your arms that it made you weak. 
You knew there was a chance that this night, this one night, may be all you get with her, and you were going to enjoy every single last second of it, knowing that morning would come, and with it a likely very nasty conversation between you and Isla. But more than that, it brought the promise that Y/N’s face would be the first thing you would see, and that alone had you closing your eyes ready to face another day.
.
.
.
.
.
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Taglist: @britney-gvf @gretavanmoon @sacredstarcatcher @wetkleenex-gvf @farfromthehomelands @takenbythemadness @writingcold @builtbybrokenbells @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @fleet-of-fiction @milkgemini @gvfpal @ageofcj@dancingcarbon @highway-tuna @stardustjake @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface @gvfmarge @gracev0609 @myleftsock @literal-dead-leaf @peaceloveunitygvf @ageofbajabule @slut4lando @jordie-gvf @sadiechar @tinydancer40 @rosabellagvf @capnjaket @lyndz2names @thetroublegetssoloud71 @gretavanomens @spark-my-nature @josh-iamyour-mama @anythingforjtk@myownparadise96 @alwaysonthemend @danieljlmwagner @klarxtr @fortunatelytinybasement @demonrat444 @gretavansara @watchingover-hypegirl @hippievanfleet @digitalnomadz @raviolilegs @gvf-luna @lipstickitty @hippievanfleet @klarxtr @strange-whorizons @do-it-jakey-baby
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skyward-floored · 8 months
Text
Whumptober Day 3: “Make it stop” (solitary confinement)
Was busy all morning but here it is! Wild having a pretty awful time of it, and fun with magic songs and instruments.
No specific warnings, apart from its whumptober, so expect pain.
Read on ao3
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“WILD!”
Time’s eyes snapped open at the shout, and he bolted upright from where he’d been sleeping.
He looked immediately over at where Twilight’s cry had come from, and saw him shouting in Wild’s face, shaking him none too gently. Time quickly got to his feet and dragged him back, giving the young man in front of him a disbelieving look.
“Rancher, what on earth are you doing?” he demanded, and Twilight looked at him, eyes frantic.
“He’s still out Time, he’s not— I fell asleep last night at some point, I don’t know when, but I woke up a bit ago and he’s still in it,” Twilight said, looking on the verge of panic, “I tried waking him up more gently but he’s not even twitching, something’s wrong with him!”
Time looked immediately at Wild, and felt a deep concern rise in his chest.
Wild had fallen into one of his memories last evening, right as they’d been preparing to make camp for the night anyway. Nobody had been too worried, since they were now quite used to the champion regaining memories at odd moments, and they’d set up camp and eaten dinner without much fuss.
They’d all grown a little more concerned when it had been over an hour and Wild still hadn’t awoken, but even Twilight had figured it must have just been a longer memory to regain. They’d all gone to bed, apart from Twilight who insisted on waiting up, and Time had fully expected to wake up in the morning and see Wild making breakfast as usual.
He should have known better.
Nothing was ever that simple for them.
Time let go of Twilight, and looked again at Wild, studying the champion in concern. Wild still had the exact same blank expression and faded look in his eyes from the night before, his position only changed slightly from Twilight’s attempts at waking him.
It had been more than eleven hours since he’d fallen into the memory.
The others had been woken up by Twilight’s shouts, and it didn’t take long for them all to cluster around Wild, eyes widening as one by one they realized he still wasn’t responding to anything.
They began attempting everything they could think of to rouse him, shouting his name, dousing him, lightly tickling the back of his neck. Hyrule even pulled out a strong-smelling plant of some kind he had in his bag, but Wild didn’t move for any of it, still staring, still blank.
“Let me try something,” Legend said finally, after countless unsuccessful attempts, and took out a pale ocarina.
He had an unreadable look on his eye as he began to play a soft tune, the notes somehow both sad and heartwarming. The others all listened in silence, and as the last note faded, they all looked intently at Wild, hope bright on their faces.
The champion still hadn’t moved.
“...That should have worked,” Legend said in a quiet voice, and Sky patted him on the back, telling him it was a good try.
The others began to talk about what to do next, but Time ignored them, studying Wild in silence. Something about Legend’s attempt was stirring an idea in his head, an inkling that deep down he knew what was wrong with the champion, but he wasn’t sure yet.
He watched Wild for a long time while the others talked, noting the deep breaths he took, and pale film over his eyes. His appearance hadn’t changed a bit the entire time, but Time continued to study him, a hand on his chin.
And suddenly he knew what was wrong.
“Rancher, you said he normally experiences the whole memory, then comes back?” Time said, and the others paused in their discussion, looking at him.
“That’s what he says happens,” Twilight said, still looking incredibly worried. “He watches it happen, doesn’t quite experience it exactly in... himself, though, if that makes any sense. And once it’s over, he wakes up.”
Time nodded, then turned from Wild, looking over the rest of the worried group.
“I believe he’s repeating the memory,” he said plainly.
They all looked at him in confusion at the statement, not even Twilight catching on. “What do you mean repeating it?” Hyrule asked hesitantly, and Time looked back at Wild.
“Every four minutes and thirty-two seconds, on the dot, his eyes shift to the left,” Time said. “And one minute and nine seconds after that, he takes in a noticeably deeper breath. I’ve been watching him, it’s the exact same increment of time, every time. I believe he’s trapped in a loop. Continually repeating the memory he’s recovered.”
The words felt sour on his tongue as he spoke them, masks and moons stirring in his memory as he explained.
What a terrible fate.
“But how did that happen?” Twilight asked in dismay, pulling him out of his darkening thoughts. He placed a careful hand on Wild’s head and looked into his eyes. “That’s never happened before, how could—”
“Wait, remember that weird guy we saw in that last town we were at?” Wind suddenly piped up.
Everyone stared at him.
“Oh... I guess that was just me and Wild,” the sailor said a little awkwardly. “Well he was real kooky, had these big robes on and looked all insulted when we tried to walk by his stall without stopping. He tried to get us to buy stuff and was being really rude and up in our faces, and Wild finally told him off and showed him his weapons and stuff so he knew he meant it. But he was still acting strange when we left, waving his arms and all weirdly smug, even though we didn’t buy anything.”
“You didn’t think to mention this before now?” Twilight asked with an edge to his voice, and Wind raised his hands defensively.
“We meet all sorts of weirdos, I didn’t think anything was wrong at the time!”
Twilight opened his mouth to say more, but Time put his hand on his arm, stopping him. It wasn’t the time to argue about it.
“Well that explains the who, but not the how,” Warriors said thoughtfully as he looked at Wild again.
“It’s got to be a delayed curse of some kind,” Legend muttered, tapping his chin. “He cast it when Wild was in front of him, and it only began affecting him when the memory hit for some reason.”
“But how do we get him out?” Sky asked in dismay, and Time pulled out his ocarina, quieting the group.
“I believe I can retrieve him. I’ve had experiences a little like this.”
“But how?” Hyrule asked, and Time smiled grimly, the purplish-blue of his ocarina shining bright in the morning sunshine.
“I believe I’ll need our sailor’s help for that.”
After explaining himself and going through a short lesson and period of preparation after (Twilight pacing with agitation the entire time), Wind and Time sat down in front of Wild, each with their respective instruments. The other Links hovered nearby, Twilight especially looking concerned, and Time held back a sigh as he watched him continue to pace.
Wild had been out for close to fourteen hours now.
“Are you sure I can’t help?” Twilight asked for the third time in a row, and Time shook his head.
“I’m sorry Rancher, but no. You’re inexperienced in magic like this, and we don’t want to cause Wild any harm.” Seeing Twilight’s frustrated look, Time caught his eye, and gave his arm a bracing squeeze. “We’ll get him out, Twilight. But he’ll need someone out here when he wakes up, and better you then anyone.”
Twilight closed his eyes, struggle clear on his face. But he nodded, and drew back after a moment.
“Be careful.”
“We will.”
Time looked over at Wind, fidgeting with the Wind Waker. “Are you ready, Sailor?”
“Yep! But I still think I could do it by myself,” Wind said as he stretched his arms above his head, and Time smiled a little grimly.
“I’m certain you could. But we don’t know the strength of the curse, and the Wind Waker may need a boost. Hopefully the ocarina will be enough.” Time sighed, watching as Twilight sat next to Wild, still completely unresponsive. “And we don’t know what state Wild is in at the moment, no less what it’ll be like in his memory. Better you have backup in case something happens.”
Wind suddenly looked much more nervous then before, but he nodded determinedly.
Then Time raised his ocarina to his lips, pausing a moment as he took a deep breath, and Wind raised his baton in preparation.
Time began playing the Command Melody that Wind had told him about once before, and had taught him now, the sailor conducting him as he went. A breeze brushed his cheek as he blew, the wind increasing as he played through the song, and Wind’s eyes squeezed shut in concentration, his tongue slightly sticking out.
Time focused on the heavy magic that they were weaving with the music, directing it towards Wild. It seemed to flow reasonably well, but as the song swelled, Time found himself suddenly wondering what they would do if this didn’t work.
It will work. It has to.
A faint chorus seemed to join them, weaving seamlessly in with both the wind and the playing from his ocarina. The last note faded from his lips, and the chorus stilled, the world seeming to hold its breath.
And then Time’s vision suddenly tunneled, his senses going dark.
(...)
A scream woke him.
Time’s eye snapped open into an expanse of shimmering grass, wide and endless. The familiarly of the location made his heart beat unpleasantly, but at another glance, it was clear it wasn’t the same as what he was remembering. There was a faint mist blowing through the field, tinged blue and gently swirling, but the only noise was that of the grass swaying, no other sounds or screams that he could make out.
He doubted he had imagined the cry, though.
A rustle caught his attention and he turned to see Wind sitting up next to him, looking around at the fog with an expression of wonder. He didn’t appear nearly as uneasy as Time felt, and ran a hand through the grass, blinking at the unusual noise it made.
“Is this Wild’s... head?” he asked as he got to his feet, and Time hummed, doing the same.
“In some respect, yes, I believe so.”
“It isn’t usually like this when I use the command melody,” Wind said after a minute, face curious. “...though I’ve never tried it on anyone asleep. It’s a lot calmer than I thought it would be too. I guess I sort of assumed...”
A distant sob was carried to them by the wind, and Wind went silent, both of them exchanging looks before quickly heading in the direction it came from.
A few trees were faintly visible through the fog, but Time barely noticed them, intent on listening for any more noises to follow. The grass rustled slightly as they walked, the sound unnatural and strange, and the blades were almost silky-feeling when Time touched them.
They’d been going for an indeterminable amount of time when Wind suddenly tugged his arm and motioned for him to stop, ears pricked. Time froze, and strained his ears, heart jumping when he heard a familiar voice.
“Let me out, let me out let me out please Hylia, make it stop—”
The last word choked off into a sob, and Wind bolted, Time quickly wading after him. He soon caught up to the sailor, and they made their way through the long grass and fog, following the distant cries.
They finally reached an area where the mist thinned, blue swirling silently away, and Wind gasped as they both saw a figure collapsed in the grass.
Wild was curled into a ball, his hands clutching at his scalp so hard there was blood in his nails. His face was pressed to his knees, hair falling over his eyes, and Time quickly went to his side and crouched next to him.
“Champion,” Time said urgently, but Wild didn’t reply, mumbling rapidly under his breath.
Time and Wind exchanged looks, and Time extended a hand, touching Wild’s shoulder as gently as possible.
Wild gasped and opened his eyes, looking around with a terrified expression. His eyes flickered like he was looking at something only he could see, and his breath hitched as he stared right through Wind and Time, no recognition on his tearstained face.
“Wild?” Wind asked in a small voice, and Wild’s head jerked, his breath coming in thin gasps as he looked around.
The same faint scream Time had heard earlier echoed through the air, and Wild’s breath caught on a sob, the Champion pressing his head back against his knees.
“Please, please, not again, don’t show me again!” he gasped, voice hitching.
“Link,” Time said forcefully, and squeezed his shoulder. “I don’t know what you’re seeing, but it’s not real. We’re here to get you out.”
Wild’s next breath cut off into a wail, and he slammed his hands over his ears, so tightly Time was afraid he would hurt himself. Time reached forward to put his hand back on his arm, but Wild fell abruptly limp, whimpering as he took a deeper breath.
He opened his eyes again, bloodshot and haunted, but filled now with gut-wrenching acceptance.
“Again,” he whispered, and his breath shuddered on a sob.
It must have restarted, Time thought with an ache in his chest, and Wind moved forward, gently taking Wild’s hand.
“Champion? It’s us, remember?” Wind asked in a surprisingly steady voice, looking down at him. Wild stilled a little, but he continued to look around, ears flicking in all directions, tears still leaking from his eyes. “Link?”
Wild flinched at the name, but it seemed to help, his eyes focusing a bit more, and not darting around as much. Wind repeated his name in that same gentle voice, and Wild’s eyes slowly trailed up and focused on Wind. A sudden clarity shone in the blues as he stared at him for several long moments, and he leaned forward, eyes wide.
“Sailor?” Wild breathed eventually, and Time nodded, giving him an encouraging look. “Old— old man?”
“That’s right. We’re here to get you out,” he said with no small relief, and Wind helped Wild slowly sit up. He pulled him into a side hug, and the shivers wracking through Wild eased a bit, the champion looking relieved at the touch.
“Do you know what happened?” Time continued, carefully studying his face.
Wild swallowed.
“Something went wrong,” he stammered, looking more shaken than Time had ever seen him. He stared to the left for several moments before continuing, letting out a violent shudder. “With the— the memory. Don’t know what, the first time was just a normal one, but it— it changed. And now it keeps r-repeating and it won’t stop, no matter what I do I can’t make it stop—”
His head suddenly snapped to the side, and he choked on a breath, appearing to force himself to look back at Time and Wind.
“...How many times has it been?” Time asked quietly as he rubbed Wild’s shoulder. Please goddesses, let it not be as many as I suspect.
“Don’t know,” Wild croaked, haunted look in his eyes somehow brightened by the fog. “I lost track close to a hundred.”
Time felt the blood drain from his face as Wind gasped, and the voice suddenly screamed again.
Wild violently flinched at the sound, his trembling begun again, and Wind moved so he was more hugging the champion. The sailor’s face was pale, and Time kept his hand on Wild’s shoulder, steadying the teenager in front of him when another shudder ran up his spine.
More than a hundred times...
“Can you make it stop?” Wild whispered, looking off at something Time couldn’t see again. Wind nodded rapidly, and Time took both of Wild’s shoulders in his hands and gave them a bracing squeeze.
“We can. Just hold tight. We’re going to pull you out with us when we break the connection,” he reassured, and Wild looked utterly relieved, even with tears still trickling down his cheeks.
Wild clung tightly to him as Time began to help him up, shaking like a leaf. Time rubbed his shoulder again, concern laying heavy in his chest, and Wind gave him an uncertain look. The sailor was doubtless thinking along the same lines as he was.
They didn’t know what Wild was seeing, but it was obviously affecting him deeply, and he’d already been forced to go through it so many times, and for so long...
Wild was strong, Time knew. Stronger then he gave himself credit for. But everyone had their limits.
Had Wild already been pushed past his?
“Let’s get out of here,” Time said as Wild flinched again, and Wind nodded, looking around at the field again.
“I’ve never done this before,” the sailor admitted with a worried look between Time and Wild, “breaking the song’s magic like this. I don’t know if... What if we can’t..?”
“Then we will come back and try again,” Time said confidently, and put an arm around Wild’s shoulder to more solidly hold him up. “As many times as it takes. Now let’s get out of here.”
He wrapped Wild in his arms, the teenager still violently shaking, and Wind put his arms around Wild’s back as well. Time closed his eye, and focused on the magic allowing him and Wind to be here, and began tugging it away, neatly snipping them from Wild’s mind.
But he made sure to bring Wild too, tearing at the sticky threads of curse he could feel surrounding him, not letting them pull him back into his mind, trapping him there forever like they wanted. It was hard magic, gumming up the works and spreading its grimy reach into every corner it could get to. But Time still fought against it, cutting it apart, ripping it away where it clung.
He’d had plenty of practice with magic that refused to let go. This was no different.
He could feel Wind tugging as hard as he could, and Wild weakly pulling as well, and as all three of them went after the last thread, the magic suddenly snapped, throwing Time back into his own body with a horrible lurch.
It took him a long moment to readjust, settling back into his own mind rather disorienting. But he managed to open his eye after a moment, and saw Legend looking at him in concern. His hand was on his arm, stopping him from falling over, and Time gave him a small smile as he regained the rest of his senses.
Then immediately looked over at Wild.
The champion hadn’t moved.
Time’s heart fell as Warriors helped Wind sit up, the sailor shaking his head and looking dizzy. Wind looked over at him, then turned towards Wild, and a quiet oh escaped his lips, face falling.
Twilight was still seated next to Wild, the hopeful look on his face soured as Time and Wind looked between each other. Time met his eyes, and the rancher swallowed, looking away from Wild and down at his hands.
Wild breathed in sharply.
Twilight’s head snapped up, and they all watched with bated breath as Wild seemed to freeze, even more still than before. Time carefully moved over to him, and he and Twilight watched in silence, waiting for movement... a sign...
“Come on Champion, come back to us...” Time murmured.
Wild didn’t move.
And then his eyes snapped open, and he collapsed forward onto Twilight’s waiting arms with a gasp, Twilight letting out a tense laugh of relief as he caught him.
“It worked!” Wind cheered, and the others let out varying sounds of joy and relief, clapping Time and Wind on the back, trying to see how Wild was doing. Time smiled and endured the happy clamor, but his smile stiffened as he looked at Wild.
He was buried in Twilight’s hold, still faintly trembling, and Time could see him getting more and more tense as the noise around him increased. Someone nudged him on the arm, and he stiffened so abruptly Twilight jumped a little.
“Give him space,” Time said quietly, catching the others’ attention with his tone of voice. “He’s been through a lot, and will need rest. I think perhaps, he could also use some breakfast... could you all help with that?”
The heroes exchanged looks, but they took the hint and nodded, and everyone except for Wind went off in the direction of the cooking pot. They cast glances back at where Wild still lay, but didn’t comment further. Wind joined Time and Twilight’s sides, and he looked down at Wild with a hesitant expression.
“Is he okay?” he asked softly.
A noise came from Twilight’s arms, and they all looked at Wild, still trembling, and curled in Twilight’s hold with a surprising amount of vulnerability. Wild breathed out slowly, and despite how he was still clutching at Twilight’s wolf pelt with hands that shook more than ever, he raised his head, and met Time’s eye.
The gratitude and relief in his gaze was nearly overwhelming, and Time leaned down to take his hand in his, Wild clutching at it like a lifeline.
“Wild?” Twilight asked carefully, and Wild flicked an ear in recognition that he’d heard. “How are you doing cub?”
Wild closed his eyes again, and didn’t immediately reply.
Then a noise between a laugh and a sob escaped his lips, his shaking increasing again as tears started to fall down his cheeks. Time drew the arm Wild was still clasping closer to him, holding it to his chest, and Wild let out another laughing sob.
Wind squashed himself between Time and Twilight as well, and all three of them held Wild as he cried with relief, overwhelmed at finally being freed from his own mind.
“You’re okay,” Twilight whispered, running a hand through Wild’s hair. “You’re out, Link. You’re safe.”
“And we’re gonna make sure it never happens again,” Wind said fiercely, a thread of guilt in his voice as Wild shuddered. “Never again.”
Time didn’t say anything, but Wild gripped at his hand again, and he squeezed it silently in return.
Never again.
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gwennybriggs · 17 days
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Red Rover, Red Rover Pt. 2
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Melissa Schemmenti x Fem Reader
Summary: You convince your wife, Melissa, to take in a stray dog until you can find its owner. She reluctantly agrees, reminding you that the pup will end up in the pound if no one comes forward. Spoiler: The dog doesn’t go to the pound.
No warnings apply!
You pretended not to notice your wife become gradually attached to her dog twin over the course of the week. The pup followed Melissa around like a shadow and the two of them quickly became inseparable. On your evening walks, she would insist on stopping at the park so ‘pipsqueak’ could sniff around and meet other neighborhood dogs. And every time your cell phone rang, she held her breath hoping it wasn’t about the dog.
During lunch, Jacob received a phone call from an unknown number and he answered it without hesitation.
“Jacob speaking, how can I help you?”
You watched his face fall a little and you reached for your wife’s hand. That was it, your time with the pup was coming to an end. “Oh, um yeah. We can definitely do that, would tomorrow work?” He looked to the two of you with the question and you nodded. Melissa squeezed your hand and gave you a sad smile. “Alright, we’ll see you tomorrow morning then. Thank you, bye.” He slid his phone into his pocket and sighed.
“She’s going home tomorrow isn’t she,” Melissa asked quietly.
“Sounds like it. I’m sorry, baby,” you rubbed her hand with your own.
“Don’t know why you’re sorry, told ya we weren’t keeping her anyway.” She snapped, standing as and gathered her things before heading to her classroom to sulk in private. You went to follow her but Barbara stopped you with a hand on your shoulder, shaking her head. You knew Melissa needed time to herself to be sad, but it was hard to give her that when all you wanted to do was hold her and take away that hurt. She always took pride in putting up a tough front so your heart broke any time that front fell.
You spent the rest of your lunch break poking at your food, thinking of ways to convince the pup’s family to give your wife visitation rights. Melissa kept to herself until the car ride home later that afternoon when she apologized for how she spoke to you. You were quick to forgive her, knowing how out of character it was for her to be even the slightest bit mean to you.
When you arrived at home, Little Red greeted the two of you at the door with excited kisses and a tail wagging so fast she could have taken flight. Melissa sat on the floor to enjoy what little time she had left with the pipsqueak while you went upstairs to change before starting dinner. The pair left for their evening walk as you placed the casserole in the oven.
About an hour later, they returned and joined you in the kitchen. You fed the pup her dinner and grabbed two plates from the cabinet to dish out your own. “How was your walk, baby,” you asked as she snaked her arms around your waist and placed a sweet kiss on your cheek.
“Bittersweet. I’m gonna miss her,” she admitted as she reached for the glasses of water on the counter. “You and your damned puppy dog eyes, shoulda never agreed to take her in,” she teased.
You followed her into the dining room and placed her plate in front of her. You both sat down and began to dig into the meal. A few moments of silence later, you mentioned the idea of going to the shelter to pick out another dog to love once Little Red went home. She thought about it but shook her head, “Nah, there’s just something about this one. It’s like she chose us or somethin’. Don’t worry about it, hon. I’ll be okay. You’re all I need.” She blew you a kiss from across the table before sneaking a green bean under the table for her friend.
Once the plates were cleared and cleaned, Melissa and her shadow followed you to the couch. The rest of the evening was quiet as you enjoyed a series of rom-coms with your wife’s head in your lap and the pup tucked safely in the crook of her knees. Eventually, Melissa’s soft snores synced with the dog’s and you knew it was time to retire to bed. Gently, you prodded her up and turned off the television. You shared a yawn before reaching for her to hold your hand as you made your way up to your room, pipsqueak hot on your heels. Before either of you were able to turn down the covers, Little Red jumped up and laid at the foot of the bed, her spot, and looked between you two expectantly for her good night kisses. You both let out a sad sigh, she was already used to your routine, it would be so hard to let her go. With smooches given, the two of you climbed into bed. You snuggled into your own spot, head on Melissa’s chest and whispered, “I’m gonna miss her too.”
Melissa let you sleep in the next morning while she took the dog out for one last walk. When they returned, she let Little Red jump onto the bed to wake you up. You blinked your eyes open and giggled at the excitement she had in seeing you. Moments later, your wife sat by your side and brushed your hair from your face as she pulled the pup off of you.
“They’ll be here soon, hon, maybe twenty minutes. Made you a breakfast sandwich, it’s on the dresser. We’ll be in the backyard playing if you wanna join us when you’re done.” You nodded and thanked her as she left to let you get ready for the day. You ate your sandwich fairly quickly and rinsed off in the shower. You knew there’d be tears, so you opted for minimal makeup and made it to the backyard with minutes to spare before the dog’s family arrived.
You got the call that they’d arrived and you greeted them at the door before leading them to the backyard. They introduced themselves as Ginny and Tom, they were an older couple who didn’t seem to be overly emotional about being reunited with their dog.
“Here she is, we’ve taken the best care of her for ya,” you told the couple as you opened the screen door for them.
“Looks like it, she’s never looked so happy,” Ginny commented and she watched the pup play with your wife. She watched for a while as they played fetch before her husband called for the dog.
“Coco! Come here, Coco!” He clapped his hands and the dog looked up at the couple. She wagged her tail at them and dropped her ball at Melissa’s feet, waiting for her to throw it again.
The gentleman frowned a little and looked at his wife. She shouted, “Coco! Coco! You want a cookie?” The pup cocked her head at the word ‘cookie’ but didn’t budge. Melissa picked her up and walked over to the couple. Coco didn’t seem too impressed with them and tried with all her might to get down when Melissa handed her over.
“You sure she’s your dog,” Melissa joked and the pup hid behind her.
Ginny wiped a single tear from her cheek. “She was my mother’s. Mom passed away almost two weeks ago now. We brought her home with us, but she escaped the second day. Coco has never really been fond of us, but we promised we’d give her a good home.” Tom rubbed her back and pulled her to the side to take a moment to collect herself as she started to cry.
You and Melissa gave them some privacy while you continued to love on the dog and chase each other around the tree playing peek-a-boo. The older couple watched from the patio and whispered back and forth to each other for a while before waving you over. Your wife joined you, arm wrapped around your waist.
Ginny nodded at Tom before he spoke. “How would you two feel about keeping her? The three of you seem so happy together, and we’d be keeping our promise to Ginny’s mom. I just don’t think Coco would be content living wit-“
“Yes,” you both responded simultaneously, squeezing each other slightly. “We love her so much already. We would be delighted!”
The couple smiled wide and chuckled at the enthusiasm. “She’s all yours. You have our number, just keep us updated on her if you don’t mind. Maybe send a few pictures from time to time? My mother would want me to keep tabs on her little one, she loved her just as much as Coco loves you.” Ginny knelt down to say her goodbyes to the pup and was met with a sloppy kiss, like Coco was saying thank you.
Melissa thanked the couple profusely as she walked them to the door and promised to send updates and pictures periodically. Once the door closed, you pulled your wife into a tight embrace and let out a sigh of relief. Neither of you could believe the outcome. You were officially dog parents!
Your wife picked Coco up and brought her over for a group hug, the pup licked both of your faces. You plopped yourself down on the couch and Coco jumped up onto your lap, she knew she was home. Melissa sat next to you, beaming ear to ear.
“Well, now we gotta give her a name, we can’t just keep calling her ‘the dog’, ‘little red’ and ‘pipsqueak’. She deserves a proper name. I was thinking maybe Harper, or Georgia? Coco just does not fit her.”
Melissa was quiet for a moment before leaning her head on your shoulder. “What about Penny? Like, a Penny lost is a Penny found? Or Pennies from Heaven… Penny for your thoughts?”
Your jaw dropped in false surprise, “You’ve really put some thought into this haven’t you?”
“I may or may not have secretly been calling her Penny since we brought her home,” she said as she bit her lip. You tilted your head back in laughter. Of course Melissa already had a name for her. It made perfect sense.
“Damn! She stole your heart faster than I did. She’s your baby, so Penny it is!” Penny responded to her name with a head tilt and tail wag, she knew it already.
Melissa nuzzled her head into your neck. “/You’re/ my baby. Penny is /our/ baby. You’ll always be number one in my heart, hon.”
You rested your head on top of hers. “I’m not jealous of a dog, Mel,” you teased.
“No, I know. I just wanted to remind you.”
With butterflies in your stomach, you ran your fingers through her hair. After all these years she still had that affect on you. “Thank you, darling. You’ll always be number one in mine, too.” A few beats later you added, “unless Penny magically decides I’m her favorite. Then you’ll be booted to two,” you joked, earning you a playful smack on the arm from your wife.
“Yeah, right!”
The little red rover found her forever family.
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pupyr0arz · 2 months
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more drabbles to fill out that word count. Priceghost but also some weird dynamics mentioned with the rest. Price is set on taming ghost, the very beginnings of that.
Price has a older brother. They don’t talk as much as they used to, few siblings do, but his brother fell into the urge and moved out into the sticks. He keeps dogs, massive walls of fur and strong muscle, not little city lapdogs. Big, working dogs with teeth and ferocious energy, bowling Price over during his visit with ease and snap sharp teeth playfully near his face and Price, who’s never had any sort of animal asides from one of his lost lovers lazy pug, thinks about what would happen if it actually bit down. His brother rescues him easily with an apology and a laugh, and they have beers while Price watches the dogs leap and roughhouse in a way that makes Price doubt how man ever managed to domesticate wolves. His brother keeps them in line with easy words and Price watches him and thinks about his promotion waiting for his return. He’s a captain, now, coming into his own, hand on the collar this time around.
Eight days into working with The Ghost, Price googles the best place to buy a clicker. He would have liked a whistle, but he needed something discreet and fresh of any associations, a clean slate.
His other tabs are looking for collars, and wondering how drunk he’d have to get Soap to try one on for the first time. He’s sure the overeager pup would wear one, but he’s got a surprising amount of ego for a guy who barked for him on a dare.
Laswell showed him the files a good couple months before things became official, picking and choosing the best of the best for his little fighting force. Ghost, as he’s known as, is the most worrying. Soap, funny little creature that he is, has his own litany of behavioral issues, but a list of glowing commendations just as long and Price is sure he’ll be the good fit to bring out the more obedient qualities of his explosives specialist. He’s surging at the bit, poor thing, and faster than you can blink he has Soap glancing back at him for permission to act without thinking about it, heeling on command. Kyle goes along sweet as honey, before he knows it and when Price sees the afterglow fade in his eyes, confusion brimming forth and new worries, he soothes them away with a pat on the back and Gaz leans into it smoothly. Roach waits and watches him from corners, gauging his judgement with little comment and Price is halfway through a worried plan to get some kind of response when Roach apparently makes up his mind, and he’s as easy as anybody ever could be, eager to draw for him. No fuss, no muss, his lead is sure and his halter fits nicely.
The Ghost is more liability than a boon, he’s warned. The man, if he even is one many mutter and curse, seems more scar tissue and scary stories than living parts. He keeps himself covered, baclavas with his skull patterning worn at all times. ce doesn’t touch this when he meets him, spying the sore wound and choosing not to prod that area. The Ghost doesn’t trust him enough to let him look without knowing he won’t touch what he isn’t allowed to, that he won’t do more damage than harm. When The Ghost is asked by a nosey nobody while settling into the base a little too insistently, Price sharply orders him away before he can get too tense. He doesn’t acknowledge it, and in a couple of hours is sure to beat it into the other residents on base that they sure as hell aren’t supposed to either. It can wait. Price prefers to leave that fumbling to lesser men, until he picks out all of The Ghost’s neuroses.
Look. I don’t understand, but I don’t need to. I’ll trust you.
On the third day, Price calls The Ghost for a chat in his office on the base, a report filed of an altercation with one of the sergeants, not one of his but some no-name that Price is already forgetting about. The Ghost didn’t kill him, or break a bone, but the man’s beaten dead to rights and his ego bruised severely. Price thinks that’s a folly, The Ghost could’ve done a thousand things worse to him, but the higher ups don’t see things like he does.
The Ghost sees the report, there’s no way he couldn’t have. Price wanted him to read the whole thing. He settles down in the chair, hands on his lap and cokd brown eyes firmly on Price’s without wavering. He can’t help but take a second to wonder what the Lieutenant is feeling, pride, anger, shame? He doubts the last one strongly. Price doesn’t let his gaze shift away from The Ghost’s when he takes the leaf of paper, careless and openly not bothering to look at it, and dumps it into the bin besides his desk, and launches into a bland speech about mission readiness, praising Ghost for his frugalness.
See? Look at how little this matters to me. I’m on your side. I don’t care about them.
Price waits an extra day before he unpacks the clicker. He slips it into his pocket, takes it with him to the range. Pats The Ghost on the shoulder now that he’s more used to it, slips it out of his pocket quietly next to The Ghost’s leg, let’s him see it. He clicks it, twice, and pockets it again quickly. The Ghost glances at him, eyes dark in the shadow the ceramic casts on his eyes, but his gaze shifts back to the range without comment and Price takes it as a win. The Ghost would never let him try something without knowing, but Price can work with being ignored. He can tell from the shift in him that The Ghost is starting to seriously consider him, reminds him of Roach in a way, and the slight, almost imperceptible peeking of his shoulders after Price praises him is his only chink in the armor. Time will wear that into a crack, into a gaping hole that Price will fill before he feels the ache of it.
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v3lv3tf0x · 5 months
Text
One Sip Too Many
Warnings: aphrodisiac, fem! Reader, alcohol, marking, talk of pregnancy, idk (sorry I forgot I said I would post this heehee)
The crisp air hit your face as you walked out of the bar, although it didn’t do much to cool how hot you were at the moment. Someone had definitely drugged your drink. Venti quickly followed after you as you stumbled towards the bridge out of Mondstat.
     “Where’re you goin’, Y/N?” He called worriedly, seeing your messy state.
     “I need to… I just… somewhere safe…” You mumbled, leaning against the wall of a building. Venti ran towards you, catching you as you nearly face-planted.
     “I’ll take you home, okay?”
     “No… wine…” You said softly, sagging against Venti’s small frame.
     “You’ve had enough to drink.” He said firmly, starting to steer you towards the inner parts of the city. You struggled faintly in his grasp.
     “Master Diluc,” You protested. “Take me… to the Dawn Winery.”
     “Oh! Okay, sure.” Venti was confused as to why you wanted to see Diluc, of all people, but he went with it.
A little while later, he was banging on the front door. There were loud footsteps and the two of you heard annoyed grumbling coming from the other side of the door. It was flung open, revealing a scowling Diluc, his hair down and his clothes askew.
     “Sorry, Diluc! Y/N insisted she c-”
     “S’mone put… in my drink.” You slurred, breaking out of Venti’s grasp and stumbling towards Diluc.
     “What?!” He snapped, catching you. “Venti, weren’t you supposed to keep her safe?” His tone was bone-chilling.
     “Aha… well, I was only gone for a little bit…” Venti scratched the back of his neck. Diluc opened his mouth to say something, but his jaw snapped shut and his eyes widened when he felt you rubbing up against him.
     “Master Diluc…” You whined softly, looking up at him, your face heating shamefully. Venti’s footsteps were heard backing away as he shut the door, not really wanting any part in what was about to happen. He knew when to excuse himself.
     “Y/N, stop. You’re drugged.” Diluc said, beginning to push you away. A pitiful sound fell from your lips and you smacked his hand off of you, preventing him from gaining any distance between your bodies.
     “Please…” Your hands slid up his chest as you found yourself growing more and more impatient. The throbbing between your legs was growing unbearable.
     “You know I love you, right?”
     “Ah, yes, I love you…” You nodded frantically, tempted to slide your own hands into your pants and help yourself.
     “We’ve only done this a few times, Y/N, I don’t-”
     “Master Diluc, please,” You begged, pressing your hips to his. He groaned, running a hand through his hair. You could see him debating with himself and then he suddenly smashed his mouth against yours. You instantly kissed him back, wrapping your arms around his neck. His hands slid down your back to cup your ass while he picked you up, your legs wrapping around his waist. You felt him begin to walk to his bedroom, but he didn’t break away from your kiss. He squeezed your ass, causing you to gasp. He took that moment to shove his tongue into your mouth. You moaned and rocked your hips against his, feeling his boner poke you through his clothes. His size never stopped impressing you. Sometimes you honestly wondered how he even fit inside of you.
     Diluc broke the kiss, leaving you gasping for air as he set you back onto his bed. A soft groan of impatience escaped you as he stepped back, but you quickly silenced it as he began undressing. You did the same, pulling off your pants, shirt, shoes, undergarments, socks, everything. The only thing left on you was a pretty necklace that Diluc had given you on your second date that you were too out of it to take off. When Diluc turned back around, you watched his Adam's apple bob up and down as he swallowed at the sight of you. He stared a bit too long as you rubbed your thighs together, snapping him back to you.
     “Are you sure?” He asked again. You wanted to slap him as you nodded quickly.
     “Yes, yes, so sure…” You said. Diluc nodded and crawled across the bed to you, pressing kisses to the corners of your mouth and then to your lips as his hand worked its way down your body. You whined, jerking your hips up, making his hand find its spot faster than he had intended. He didn’t mind though, pushing a finger inside of you slowly. You bit your lip, hard enough so that you drew blood, to muffle your moan. Diluc didn’t seem to appreciate this because he shoved two fingers into your mouth, with his other hand, and held your mouth open, using two fingers to hold your jaws apart and his other fingers to tug on your tongue.
     “If you want me so badly, then don’t even try to keep quiet.” He commanded in a low voice, pushing another finger into you. You moaned around his fingers, attempting to talk but clearly unable to get out any intelligible words. Diluc slowly removed his fingers from your mouth, watching your tongue curl around his middle finger.
     “What was that?” He purred, curling his fingers inside of you.
     “More…” You gasped out, shuddering.
     “More?” Diluc clicked his tongue, and then his eyes brightened with an idea. He kissed you on the lips, soft and quick, before ducking his head between your legs, pulling his fingers out of you too quickly. You whined as he spread your legs, the cold air hitting your quivering pussy.
     “Diluc…” You moaned, trying to press your legs back together. He was stronger than you, though, and easily kept them spread as he stared at you, nearly drooling.
     “Please… why are you just… sitting there…” You wiggled around, trying to bring yourself some sort of pleasure. Diluc looked up at you with a small grin before ducking his head down and blowing on your cunt. You let out a strangled half-scream at the sudden feeling, jerking your hips. He seemingly ignored your reaction and opened his mouth, letting his tongue ghost across you. This time when you attempted to jerk your hips up, he held your waist down, his fingers still wet from your saliva and slick as they dug into your skin. His shoulders replaced his hands in holding your legs apart as he licked you again, pressing his tongue into your clit and groaning at your taste. The sound sent vibrations across your body, making you shiver. You had asked for more, but he was barely touching you. You were getting frus-
     Diluc pushed his tongue into you. He thrusted his tongue in and out of you at a pace your lust-fogged brain couldn’t keep up with. He moaned as you clenched around his tongue, his name falling from your lips like a broken prayer. You snaked your fingers into his hair and dug your nails into his scalp, pulling at the soft red locks.
     “I’m- I’m so close-” Your chest heaved with each word as your pussy tried to clench around Diluc’s tongue until he pulled away, leaving you panting. He toyed with your clit, sucking and massaging you until you were begging, sobbing, from the overstimulation, for him to let you have your release, to fuck you until the only thing you could say was his name.
     Diluc, on the other hand, was enjoying your broken pleas, the way you begged. Maybe he was a sadist, but he was fine with that. He was gripping your hips so hard, he was sure there would be bruises, but he couldn’t help it. The thought of his hands behind the one to mark you made his dick twitch. He pulled off of your cunt with a lewd pop and began biting and sucking hickies on your thighs and stomach. He could hear you begging him to fuck you, but he just had, with his tongue. Now it was time to pleasure himself. You could wait. He faintly wondered where his caution had gone, where the want to please you and only you had gone, and where this new, dominant side had come from.
     Your fingers began to loosen their grip on Diluc’s hair and you grabbed his face suddenly, pulling him up to you.
     “Y/N?” He questioned, his voice low and sultry, your juices still dripping from his mouth. You yanked him down and kissed him hard, shoving your tongue into his mouth. Then you let him go, leaving him dazed.
     “Fuck me, now. With your dick, not your tongue.” You snapped.
     In his dazed state, Diluc obeyed. He watched as you spread your legs for him, once again revealing your pussy. You watched him as he grabbed his cock, standing proud with the tip glistening with precum. He leveled himself with your entrance before slowly, oh so slowly, pushing himself into you.
     Your eyes rolled back as you felt yourself stretch to the max. Slowly but surely he filled you up until you were sure you could feel the tip of his dick kissing your cervix. He waited, letting you adjust to him, although he wasn’t sure how long he could wait. He was coming out of the daze you had put him in.
     “I’m gonna move.” Diluc said, his voice ragged. You nodded, your legs weak. Diluc slowly began to move his hips against yours as he leaned over you and kissed your neck, his hair brushing against your bare skin. You grabbed his shoulders when he began to move faster, his lips, teeth, and tongue marking your neck, shoulders, and chest. You yelped when he bit you, dragging your nails down his back. He barely noticed as he pounded into you, lost in the feeling of you, not even caring about how this had started in the first place.
     You cried out his name as he began to thrust faster. You could tell he was close, as were you. Your nails left countless marks on his back as you wrapped your legs around him.
     “I’m close-” Diluc grunted in your ear. You nodded, panting.
     “Me too, me too, don’t stop-” You moaned, heat pooling rapidly in your core. Diluc continued the pace he had set but you noticed him getting sloppier and sloppier as he got closer to his release.
     “Can I come inside?” Diluc stuttered out, sounding embarrassed.
     “Yes,” You said, your voice cracking as you came on his dick. Diluc shuddered on top of you, thrusting a few more times until he found his own release. His cum was hot and the way it filled you made you feel as though you wouldn’t mind if you got pregnant.
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