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norrizzandpia · 6 months

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It’s Your Birthday. Of Course, I’m Here. (LN4)

Summary: It’s Lando’s birthday and Y/n can’t make it. Or so he thinks.

Warnings: language, Lando missing her gravely

Note: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY HUSBAND? I’m so in love with this man this is a national holiday.

“Are you boarding the plane?” Oscar asked Y/n from his side of the phone, his body turned away in the corner of hospitality.

Y/n, the girl murmuring a thank you to the flight attendant scanning her ticket, nodded with a smile, “Yes, I am. How is he? Does he know I’m coming?”

Oscar giggled, “Oh, no way. He’s been moping around all week because he thinks you won’t be here for his birthday. He doesn’t even want to go out on the night of his birthday! We’re in Vegas!”

Y/n laughed along with him, her heart slightly breaking for her boyfriend and his pity party, “Oh, no! Poor Lando. Well, hopefully, he’ll want to go out when he sees me.”

A mechanic tapping Oscar’s shoulder caused him to retreat from the conversation, “Yeah, exactly. Listen, I have to go, but text me when you land.”

Noises of agreement sounded from her as she said goodbye and hung up the phone. Oscar, standing awkwardly in front of his coworker, tried to seem nonchalant.

Jake smiled at him, “They need you in the garage.”

When he was about to walk past him, Jake grabbed Oscar’s arm, “Were you just talking to Y/n?”

Oscar’s heart dropped, plummeting to his feet when the surprise they had been planning for weeks was jeopardized. He shook his head immediately, “No. Not at all.”

Jake nodded slowly, “So, she’s not coming down here to surprise Lando for his birthday after telling him she couldn’t make it to that or the Vegas Grand Prix?”

Oscar sent him a confused look, “No.”

Yes.

—

Stepping off the plane, Y/n felt her palms become slick with the sweat of her nerves. This part of the plan was the hardest, getting to where Lando was without being recognized. With her hood pulled up, sunglasses on, and a mask resting tightly over the bottom half of her face, she weaved her way through crowds of people. Some were wearing Formula 1 merchandise, a few papaya fans sticking out, which brought a small smile to her face in memory of the man she was on her way to see.

Flashes of his sad smile plagued her brain from when she had told him she wouldn’t be able to tag along with him to the Vegas GP like she usually did, missing his birthday in the midst. He had assured her it was okay after she explained that she had an important test for university she couldn’t miss, however Y/n could see it in the way his eyes glazed over that he was trying to hold back begging her to skip it. He was trying to be a good boyfriend, that much she could tell and that much she was grateful for, but after seeing how disappointed he became, his laugh not holding its usual luster, she went to the professor to beg herself. She had explained to him the situation, even “jokingly” offering him free F1 paddock tickets in exchange for letting her take the test at a later date. By some miracle, or more genuinely by her professor’s kindheartedness, he told her that, because her grade was so strong, he would allow her to take it the week after she came back from her weekend in Nevada. He had laughed, praised her devotion toward her boyfriend, and told her that he was a fan of Lando himself, rooting for his coming win every race. The man had been so accommodating, Y/n had almost cried in front of him in his office, but she settled for crying in the privacy of the bathroom down the hall.

After that, she called Oscar, the boy letting out a sigh of relief that he wouldn’t have to handle Lando without his girlfriend and agreeing to help her surprise him.

Then, like a sequence of events, things fell into place. The McLaren marketing team caught wind of their plan and forced them to allow them to videotape the entire event, mentioning how fans would obsess over new Y/n and Lando content.

So, she found herself sliding into the backseat of a private driver for McLaren workings, with their camera man, John, sitting beside her.

She had met him before, multiple times considering how much time he spent with Lando, so the atmosphere was already comfortable.

John turned on the camera, the red light flickering as he asked, “So, how are you feeling?”

She smiled, “Good, excited to see him.”

John chuckled, “And who is ‘him’? Explain to the fans what we are doing.”

Y/n nodded, picking at the fraying edges of Lando’s hoodie she was wearing, “I am surprising Lando for his birthday! I just got off the plane from Monaco, landed here in Las Vegas, and, now, we are on our way to drop my stuff off at the hotel and then get ready to go see him! Originally, I wasn’t supposed to come, obviously, because I had a test I needed to take for my class, but my teacher, being the sweetest person to grace this Earth, allowed me an extension.”

John hummed, “And how do you think he will react?”

She let her head fall back on the seat behind her, smiling to herself at her predictions, “I think he’ll probably freak out. He’s always one for drama, don’t think that will change this time around.”

The camera shook lightly with John’s laughter, the two giggling over the driver. They shook their heads and rambled on about past instances where he’d blown minor things out of proportion. Promptly, Y/n compared herself and the surprise in store as something minor, but John was quick to disagree.

“You are so far from minor to that boy.”

—

The Hiltons that McLaren always put their workers up at always amazed Y/n. Being a broke college student who had barely scraped enough money together to study abroad in Monaco, her jaw was always on the floor when she walked through the doors and was met with the crystal chandelier, the granite floors, and grand vases of beautiful, colorful tulips and roses. Nonetheless, she had gotten slightly used to it after being with Lando for two years. She would always remember the first time he brought her along to a race, her staying in his room with the gigantic balcony accompanied by a jacuzzi and pool. He had told her it wouldn’t be anything special, but was proved wrong when they were given keys to the penthouse. She had gawked and gasped, all things Lando laughed at, while wandering through the rooms.

That weekend was ingrained into her mind as the introduction to Lando’s world.

John, camera by his side, conversed with the concierge as he checked her into Lando’s room. They had to be incredibly sly. They knew once Y/n surprised him, Lando wouldn’t settle for anything but her sleeping in his room. So, they wanted to solve that problem earlier, having Y/n drop her bags off in his room before everything unraveled.

They just needed to make sure he wasn’t there.

They just needed to make sure they didn’t disturb anything in the room, hiding her bags in the closet and hoping for the best.

When the receptionist validated Y/n’s identity, she gave them a key to his room. It was silent in the elevator as they climbed the floors, only having it being cut when her phone buzzed.

She reached down and turned it over, seeing a text from Oscar.

Oscar

DONT COME UP YET! WE HAVENT LEFT HIS ROOM

“Shit!” She yelped, typing furiously over the keyboard in response.

John turned the camera on, not wanting a moment to go to waste, “What’s going on?”

She turned her head, looking at him in a panic, “They’re still in his room!”

Their faces dropped, hearts pounding, as the elevator doors dinged and began opening. Lando’s voice filtered through the doors, along with Oscar’s. The two men were bickering.

“Lando, you’re taking so fucking long! Move your ass!” Oscar said, annoyed and very clearly agitated.

Lando groaned, “I don’t want to go out! Leave me alone!”

John’s mouth was on the floor at the footage he was getting as Y/n and him slid into the penthouse, trying desperately to find a hiding place.

She picked up her suitcase, however heavy, and walked carefully down a separate hallway that seemed to lead to a closet.

The two were close to getting there, out of sight, when Lando’s footsteps sounded close to them, rapidly approaching their location.

“Did the elevator just open?! I heard it!”

Y/n held her breath as she and John ran like hell into the first room they could find, it being a guest bedroom. She locked the door, listening intently to whatever was unfolding on the other side.

Oscar seemed to be feet away from her, “No, mate, it fucking didn’t. Now, can we leave? We have your birthday dinner to go to!”

Lando scoffed, “Fine, but if there is an intruder in my room and they end up stealing all my stuff, you’re paying for it.”

Knowing it was Y/n and the cameraman, Oscar nodded along, “Sure, mate.”

The elevator dinged once more with the two of them ready for departure, Lando giving, “And, for the record, I don’t even know why we’re going to a dinner for my birthday. I told you my birthday won’t be the same without Y/n. I told you I didn’t want to celebrate it if she wasn’t here.”

Y/n could see Lando’s pouty demeanor in her head along with Oscar’s dismissive face as he retorted, “Uh huh.”

—-

Thankfully, the rest of it all had gone smoothly. Dropping her things off after they left, getting ready, and getting to the restaurant all went according to plan.

In the last moments in the car before Lando was made aware of the things going on behind his back, John brought out the camera, “How you doing?”

Y/n nodded slowly, “Kind of nervous?” She giggled, shaking her head, “I don’t know. I just hope he didn’t catch on or anything.”

John blew a raspberry, “No way he did. I mean, that hotel thing was a super close call, but he didn’t know. I’m sure he doesn’t know.”

His words reassured her and, as they turned the corner with the destination seconds away, she said one last thing to the camera, “Lando, if you ever end up watching this, I don’t know if you watch these, I just want you to know I love you so much and I’m so proud of you and I hope you know I will stop at nothing to spend your birthday with you. You’re a fool for thinking I wouldn’t be here. I know I can say all of these things when I see you because I’m about to, but I think this just has a different impact. Plus it lets everybody know you’re mine. By the way, next time, take a shorter amount of time to get ready please. Jesus Christ, you gave me a heart attack earlier today when I had to run around your hotel room and find a hiding place because you wouldn’t leave.”

At that, the valet opened her door and she stepped out. John kept the footage going, knowing they would arrive at the grand finale any moment, and followed her into the establishment.

She walked up to the hostesses, the two women smiling back at her, “Hi, I’m here for the Norris reservation. I’m a bit late, I know, but I’m surprising the birthday boy.”

The workers’ faces lit up in realization, “Oh, you’re the girlfriend? His friend, the Australian, sorry I forgot his name, told us you would be coming. Right this way, miss.”

The brunette turned around and began walking toward the back, toward a private room. She made light conversation along the way, mentioning that Lando had spent the majority of their waiting for the table rambling about how much he wanted to call Y/n.

She was blushing by the time they stopped outside of the door that led to where the party was, thanking the woman for directing them and moving to face John.

“Ready?” She asked, looking at the camera to make sure that red light was blinking.

He nodded, “Always.”

She took a deep breath and opened the door lightly. Lando’s back was to her, Max, Oscar, and his parents facing her. She could tell they were trying to hold in their excitement as Lando retold a story about her and him getting ice cream one night at 3 AM. Their smiles were just barely being withheld from their faces as she waved to them softly and John stationed himself at an angle where the camera could see Lando’s reaction when he turned around.

He continued on, blissfully unaware of the girl behind him, “And then she said this really funny joke! Oh, crap, I can’t remember what it was. It was some cheesy dad joke about ice cream and I remember laughing so hard I almost peed my pants. Shit, what was it?”

A silence mulled over as he tried to remember, Y/n noticing her perfect cue, “I said, ‘why are popsicles so snobby?’ And you said you didn’t know, so I said, “they have a stick up their butt’. I’m pretty sure you did pee your pants laughing.”

She saw the way Lando’s hands tightened around the glass of water he was holding. He froze, “Am I going insane or is Y/n standing behind me?”

Cisca, the woman smiling from ear to ear, “She’s behind you, love.”

The glass came clattering down as he shot up from his chair and turned around wide-eyed.

“Y/N!” He screamed, running over to her and forcefully crashing into her, wrapping his arms tightly around her.

She laughed loudly as he kissed her neck aggressively, a thousand times over again. She let her arms intertwine around his neck and her hands tangle in his hair, whispering, “Happy birthday, baby. I wouldn’t miss it for the world. I love you so much. You deserve all this and more.”

He pulled away, eyes glossy as he stared down at her and held her to him, “I missed you so much.”

She smiled back, “It’s only been a week, Lan.”

He scoffed, “Yeah, and that’s way too fucking long.”

She nodded as he leaned down and captured her lips with his, his friends whooping behind him teasingly.

He pecked her lips innocently, saving what he really wanted to do for the later part of the night, and led her to the table.

John and Y/n took their rightful seats, teeth on display at the success of their plan. John, being the perfect cameraman, continued to catch moments shared between the couple throughout the rest of the night. Lando’s hand interlocked with hers on the table, his kiss to her over the gift she got him, the way his hands securely held her hips on the side of the road while they waited for their car, the way he hugged her and whispered in her ear how happy he was to have her there with him, and everything in between.

Sweet, gentle instances that showed everyone just how in love the two were. Lando’s soft eyes resting on hers when she came into view was something that every fan couldn’t let go of the week later when it was posted. Everyone fawned over the two like they were destined to be together, fated in the stars.

Because they were and they always would be.

3K notes · View notes

puckinghischier · 9 days

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Surprise…?

Luke Hughes x fem!reader

summary: anon request for luke getting hurt during a game

notes: y’all i think i struggle writing luke for some reason. i just never seem to really like what i write when i write for him. wtf am i doing wrong 😩

[3.3k]

There weren’t many times you regretted moving to Jersey, but right now was one of them. The constant traffic within the city wasn’t something that usually got under your skin, but today it was the absolute bane of your existence. Of course, you were in a hurry. A big one. You had approximately thirty minutes until puck drop, and you needed to get there before that puck hit that ice. No exceptions. You hadn’t told Luke what you were doing, so he probably already expected you to be there, wondering why you’re not in your usual seat for warm-ups.

As if he could hear your thoughts, your phone buzzed with a message from Luke, not being able to read what it said while trying to weave in and out of traffic.

“Quinn, can you see what Luke just sent. And then tell him I’m on my way. I don’t want him worrying that I’m not showing tonight,” you ask the Hughes brother currently in your passenger seat.

Quinn grabbed your phone from the cupholder, listening to you rattle off your passcode so he can open Luke’s message.

“He asked where you were, and if you were already there. Wanted to know why you weren’t in your seat for warm ups,” Quinn confirms your thoughts, looking to you for an answer.

“Tell him I’m just running late. Be there before puck drop. And tell him I love him and good luck.”

You hear the sound of Quinn typing your reply as you increase your speed, cursing the people who want to drive below the speed limit in the fast lane. This is what you get for trying to be a good girlfriend and surprise your boyfriend and his brother. You get stuck on the road with New Jersey’s worst drivers.

In your defense, you were supposed to already be safely at the arena in your seats, but Quinn’s airline had different plans. His flight being delayed by three hours gave you barely enough time to run and grab him from the airport and make it back to the Rock before the hockey game started. The only thing saving your ass right now is the fact that if you can just get there, you can go through the player entrance and avoid the crowds trying to get in at the last minute.

“If you don’t calm down and drive like a sane person, we’re never going to get there. We’ll be squashed on the side of the road,” Quinn scolds you, grasping what your dad always called the ‘oh shit’ handles.

“If I can just get around these idiots in front of me we’ll be fine. We’re almost at our exit, then I just have to pull around back and we’re in,” you tell him, once again pressing the gas pedal a little harder.

Quinn stays silent the rest of the drive, closing his eyes once you start speeding around the other cars on the freeway, finally getting to the right exit and rushing to the underground parking that the players always park in. You pull your car into the spot next to Jack’s car, barely even turning the car off before you’re jumping out and sprinting to the entrance.

“C’mon, Quinn! I know you can move faster than that! We only have a few minutes! Move it!” You yell over your shoulder, Quinn barely having gotten out of the car.

“Remind me to never let you drive ever again,” is all he says as he catches up to you, looking a little greener than before.

The two of you make it inside the arena with no issues, sprinting to your seats just as the national anthem finishes, both teams sending their starting lines out on the ice.

You had managed to snag Quinn a seat next to you, asking the team’s manager for a favor to help surprise their rookie defenseman. With no hesitation, he handed you a ticket and a locker room pass for Quinn, knowing how homesick Luke had been lately. You had thanked him a million times, asking him to keep it a secret from both Jack and Luke, not wanting either one of them to know until the day of. He gave you his word, and was also the reason you were given access to the player parking for the night, not wanting Quinn to be ambushed by fans going through the regular entrance.

You felt your heart rate start to slow once you were both situated in your seats, glad that you had made it in time. Neither Jack nor Luke had looked over and noticed you yet, wondering if they were going to clock Quinn before they took their stances on the ice.

Your question was soon answered as Jack looked back and saw you, waving and turning to get Luke’s attention before he did a double take, noticing the brunette sitting to you left. Quinn gave a small wave, flashing his younger brother a smile as you watched Jack’s eyes widen, mouth curving into beaming smile. Luke had turned back, looking in your direction, a relieved smile on his face once he noticed you were finally in your spot, eyes too focused on your figure to notice Quinn’s next to you. It wasn’t until he looked over at Jack and followed his gaze that he finally noticed his oldest brother in the crowd, a Devil’s hat on his head.

Luke’s eyes flicked over to you once again, mouthing ‘what the fuck?’ to you, your only response a shrug of the shoulders and a smirk on your face.

The two brothers quickly focused their attention to the officials on the ice, lowered into their stances, waiting for the puck to drop onto the ice.

“You know they’re going to compete now, right?” Quinn says as he elbows you to get your attention.

“Why would they compete? They’re literally playing for the same team. It doesn’t matter who scores as long as the team wins,” you respond, confused at Quinn’s words.

“It matters now. They do the same thing when mom or dad come to watch them. They want the praise. They want to be able to out perform the other so they can brag about it to me after the game,” Quinn clarifies.

“I don’t know about that. Jack’s been good about trying to set Luke up for success all year, I think they’ll surprise you.”

Quinn gives you a skeptical look, not believing your words, but lets it go otherwise; his attention quickly stolen by the sound of the puck hitting the ice, followed by clashing sticks and skates scraping against the frozen floor.

Much to your surprise, Quinn proved to be right. All throughout the first period, the two brothers fought to get the puck, sometimes even fighting against one another. You noticed the odd looks from their teammates, Nico even skating over to Jack during a tv timeout to ask him what was up, not having seen the pair act like this before. You kept throwing glares at Luke, trying to tell him to knock it off, that they’re playing for the same team, but he wouldn’t look at you for more than a few seconds at a time.

As the second period started, the competition between Jack and Luke had nearly ceased to exist. You assumed they got their asses chewed in the locker room during the intermission, noting how their coach seemed to watch them like a hawk. Once the brothers started actually playing together instead of against one another, the Devil’s were scoring goals left and right, putting up four goals before the end of the second period, one Luke’s and two being Jack’s.

With only three minutes left in the second period, Luke was attempting to get possession of the puck from behind the net, fighting two of the opposing players for the black piece of rubber. He lost control of the puck, and in a moment of frustration, pushed one of the enemy players in the back, wanting out of the sandwich they had put him in. The player he pushed fell forward onto the ice, drawing a penalty on Luke. The official had blown the whistle, stopping gameplay, when Luke looked over at him, frustrated at the call.

What Luke didn’t see was the player who had gotten the puck come skating up behind him at full speed, pushing Luke so hard his skates came out from under him, causing him to land on the ice on his back. He was angled just enough, though, that his body slid at high speed straight into the bottom of the wall a few feet away, head bouncing off the boards along the ice.

You were on your feet immediately, hands flying to the glass in front of you, begging for him to get up. Quinn jumped to his feet next to you, placing a hand on your shoulder, whether to comfort you or himself, you don’t know. Jack leaves his spot on the bench to skate over to his brother, falling to his knees on the ice, hovering above Luke.

Luke hadn’t moved yet. Not a foot twitch, a roll over in pain, or a thumbs up to let anyone know he’s okay. He’s laying lifeless on the ice, trainers calling his name, careful not to touch his head or neck. Your hand flies to cover your mouth, a sob making its way out of you when you noticed the stretcher being put on stand-by near the tunnel. Everything feels like it’s in slow motion, time stopped as Luke continues to lay, unmoving. Quinn tries to move you back from the glass, averting your attention from the scene in front of you, but your eyes are glued to Luke’s body.

You thought you imagined the twitch of his foot, thinking it was where the medics were tapping his leg, trying to coax him awake. When you finally see his body try to roll over, you let out the breath that you didn’t even know you were holding. Your relief was short-lived, however, when you hear the scream that makes its way out of Luke’s throat. You’re not sure which one hurt worse, him lying there not moving or the scream of agony that’s currently echoing through the arena.

Your knees start to give out, eyes blurring from the tears falling down your face. Quinn catches you as you slide down the glass, holding your sobbing figure in a crouched position.

“Quinn, gotta go. Gotta go, locker rooms,” you manage to say between sobs, trying to stand and make your way out of the stands.

“Okay, yeah, let’s go. Let’s get you out of here.”

The fans watch as Quinn guides you out of your seats and up the stairs. Most of them familiar with you, you and Luke not being super private with your relationship. A lot of them are still shouting obscenities at the player who went after Luke, demanding he be suspended. Some of them give you sad smiles as you pass, hoping your rookie is okay.

You finally reach the entrance to the training room, knowing this is where they’ll have taken him before they decide if he needs a hospital or not. You can hear them in there talking to him, unsure if you should enter yet or wait on someone to come out and get you. You stand at the doors, staring into space, when Quinn decides to speak up.

“He’s gonna be fine, Y/N. Probably a gnarly bruise, and likely a concussion, but it could’ve been worse. I know its scary, but I promise, he’s going to be okay. Might not even miss more than a game or two.”

All you can do is nod at the words, unable to do much else at the moment. You try to give a small smile, but you think it comes across as more of a grimace. You turn your head when you hear the door to the training room opens, revealing one of the team trainers.

“Oh, good, you’re already down here. He’s asking for you. Wants you to know he’s awake and okay. Nothing’s broken, just banged up and a mild concussion. Probably going to have him follow up with a doctor tomorrow, but for now he just needs rest. You can go ahead and go in. He won’t be playing the rest of the night,” the man in front of you finishes, stepping aside so you can walk through the open door.

You turn back to look at Quinn, seeing if he’s going to come with you.

“I’ll just give you two a minute first. Go ahead, I’ll be right behind you,” he tells you, wanting a minute to process his own emotions before seeing his baby brother.

You nod and turn to walk into the training room, following the trainer down a short hallway before turning the corner into a room with three different treatment tables, Luke’s long body taking up the farthest one. His head is laying back on a pillow, a large ice pack taped to his right shoulder. His gear is laying in a pile on the floor next to him, completely bare from the waist up. As you get closer, you can see the already purple skin forming in the exposed parts of his shoulder and upper arm. You gasp quietly at the bruised skin, causing Luke’s head to snap up at the sound.

“Hey, pretty girl,” he rasps out, voice raw from his screams earlier.

You stop on the side of the bed opposite to his injury, unable to say anything yet. Tears still streaming down your face, looking him over for any other signs of injury.

“Hey, no need to cry, angel. I’m okay, see. Just a little bruise. Nothing to be worried about. You should see the other guy,” he tries to joke, being told he left a dent in the wall where he hit.

You glare at him through your tears, unhappy with his weak attempt at joke.

“Okay, yeah, maybe not the time to joke just yet,” he brings the hand on his good arm up to rub the back of his neck, looking away from your tear-stained face.

“You were unconscious, Luke…you weren’t moving,” is all you managed, staring at his injured shoulder.

“I know, baby, I know. But I’m awake now, see?” he gestures towards his body with his good arm. “I’m just fine. Yapping ability unaffected,” he once again tries to bring a smile to your face, this time it almost works.

“God, Luke, if you could’ve heard the scream you let out,” you shudder at the memory. “It was the worst sound I’ve ever heard in my life. I thought my heart was going to rip in two right there on the spot. I don’t ever want to hear the sound again,” you finally look at his face, noting the small cut on his forehead, you assume from his helmet.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry you had to witness all of it. I can’t imagine how it must’ve looked,” his tone apologetic. “If the roles were reversed, I don’t think I would have been able to keep myself from trying to climb over the glass to get to you. But I promise, sweetheart, I’m fine. Told me as long as my head’s fine I should only have to miss two or three games to let the bruise run its course,” he grabs your hand, rubbing small circles with his thumb.

“It was just so scary, Luke,” you sniffle, closing your eyes for a brief moment. You finally start to calm down now that his hand is in yours.

“I know. But now you get to play doctor and take care of me for a few days. Kiss all my boo boo’s better,” Luke wiggles his eyebrows at you, finally earning that laugh he’s been trying to get out of you since you walked in.

“That was probably one of the ickiest things you’ve ever said to me,” you laugh with Luke, fake gagging for dramatic effect.

Luke opens his mouth to say something else, but the the doors to the training room open, cutting him off. The familiar sound of skates against the floor making their way towards the two of you. Jack turns the corner, a frantic look in his eyes until he lands on Luke, awake and sitting up.

“I’m going to kill you for scaring me like that,” Jack points a finger, glaring at his younger brother. “I mean, why the fuck did you hit him, Luke! What were you thinking? You know how these guys are, they’re begging for any excuse to fight! They don’t care if you’re a 20 something rookie, they’re gonna hit back, dumbass!” Jack yells at Luke, throwing his arms around in frustration.

Luke winces at the volume of Jack’s voice, his ears sensitive to loud noises right now. Before you can get the words out to tell Jack to be quieter, Quinn enters the room and does it for you.

“Jack, be quiet for fuck’s sake. He has a concussion; you yelling at him is only going to make it worse. Yell at him later.”

“Well, it was stupid, Q. What he did was stupid,” Jack says in a normal tone of voice, still angry.

“Don’t act like you’ve never done anything stupid on the ice before. Just because you never get caught when you hit people doesn’t mean you don’t do it,” Quinn walks over to stand beside Jack at the end of the table.

“You good, Moose? Looked pretty nasty out there from where I was sitting. Scared us, man,” Quinn asks Luke, tapping him on the foot. You note the redness of Quinn’s eyes, knowing how much he cares for both of his brothers. The whole situation shook him up, too, you were just too worried about Luke to notice at the time.

“Yeah, m’alright. Head hurts. Shoulder feels like it’s been run over by the ‘boni, but other than that I got off pretty clean. Nothing’s broken. Have to miss two games at least, more if my head ain’t right,” Luke answers Quinn, moving his hand so he can thread his fingers through yours.

“Your head’s never been right, Moose,” Jack says, causing Luke to roll his eyes.

Quinn leans over to bump his shoulder into Jack’s, shaking his head, unimpressed with his joke.

“Wait,” Luke starts, causing everyone to look up at him. “Are we just not going to address the fact that Quinn randomly showed up to the game tonight?”

“Yeah, how did you get here. Shouldn’t you be in Vancouver right now?” Jack adds, looking over at his older brother suspiciously.

Quinn looks over to you, causing the other two Hughes to shift their gaze your way.

“Surprise?” you say as a question, not knowing what to do with all the eyes in the room on you.

“You did this?” You look over at Luke, nearly eye level with him, even though he’s laying on the table beside you.

“Well, I know you’ve been struggling with adjusting to life here lately, and you were feeling pretty homesick, so I figured it would be nice for you to have both of your brothers in Jersey for a night or two,” you shrug your shoulders, not seeing the big deal with your actions.

“Tried to get your parents here, too, but they couldn’t leave work right now. They sent their love and apologies, though. Promised me they’d be at a game as soon as they could,” you added, wishing you could’ve had all the Hughes here tonight.

“I….I don’t know what to say,” Luke looks at you, so much affection in his eyes it makes you squirm.

“Well, a thank you would be a nice start,” you joke.

“Thank you. I love you. So much. If I could lean over to kiss you right now I would,” Luke brings your hand up to his mouth, placing a kiss on the back of your hand clasped in his.

“Please, for the love of god, don’t make me witness anything else painful tonight,” Jack interrupts the moment, earning a slap to the back of the head from Quinn.

“Don’t you have a game to go finish, jackass?”

“Oh, shit, yeah,” Jack jumps, forgetting about the last period that’s about to start. “See you at home, Moose, Q. You, too, Y/N. Assume you’re staying over to help take care of the patient, yeah?” He nods his head towards the injured one in the room.

“Yeah, I’ll be there. Be safe, Jack. Good luck,” you wave as he turns to leave.

“I’ll go pull the car around, be back in a few to help you get this ole’ goon out of here,” Quinn announces before leaving you and Luke alone once more.

“So, you’re really going to stay over? Play nurse for me?” Luke asks, looking at you with puppy dog eyes, batting his eyelashes.

“Of course I’m staying over. I can’t trust Jack to make sure you’re not up and around doing something stupid when you’re supposed to be resting.”

“So, if you’re going to play nurse, does this mean we can stop on the way home and get you one of those sexy nurse outfits?” Luke asks, eyes hopeful.

“Maybe they should’ve just left you out there unconscious on the ice, you were less annoying that way,” you fire back, smiling at the laugh Luke let out, thanking your lucky stars your boy is okay.

#luke hughes x you #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes oneshot #luke hughes blurb #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes fanfic #luke hughes #hughes brothers #lh43 #new jersey devils #hockey #nhl blurb #nhl fanfic #nhl fanfiction #nhl oneshot

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sunshinescribes · 8 months

Text

Sandcastle

Pairing: Sir Crocodile x Fem!Reader

Rating: EXPLICIT (18+)

Summary: Crocodile has only ever known how to devour. Everything he wants, he consumes until there’s nothing left to take—but he can’t seem to get enough of you.

Warnings: SMUT! Obsessive behavior, hookplay, slight voice kink, overstimulation, creampie

Crocodile has only ever known how to devour.

He’s been gluttonous for as long as he can remember, his hunger an untamable beast incapable of being satiated. Everything he wants, he consumes until there’s nothing left to take.

And when he’s done feasting—when the euphoria finally fades and the empty feelings he’s always felt return—he searches for another sacrifice. He’s never satisfied.

Maybe that’s why you unnerve him.

Intrigue would be the better word, but there’s too much truth in it—a kind of vulnerability he refuses to acknowledge. Because then he would have to admit that you aren’t part of his plan to steal Alabasta. You aren’t a fly caught in the intricate web he’s masterfully weaved for years.

You’re an outlier—the one deviation he allows himself to indulge in, all while fearing that the deeper he sinks his teeth, the sweeter you’ll become.

“You’re quiet.”

Crocodile blinks as he’s ripped from his musings. His hooded eyes find you lounging comfortably on the settee across from him. The robe you’re wearing hangs low on your shoulders, causing the fabric to dip low enough to reveal the soft flesh of your breasts. His eyes must linger, because you lift your sleeves with an impish smirk.

Crocodile would laugh if his throat didn’t feel so dry—if he didn’t enjoy your soft teasing, this ability to act chaste as if he hasn’t had you writhing beneath him, debased in every conceivable way.

“Well, more quiet than usual,” you clarify.

Crocodile remains silent as you continue to stare. You’re subtle with your examinations, trying to decipher anything in his micro-expressions to gauge what you believe must be wrong, but he gives you nothing.

You see too much of him as is.

“There were pirates in Nanohana again,” he sighs. A cloud of smoke wafts from the cigar that dangles between his lips. “It’s becoming tiresome.”

The lie falls easily from his lips, just like the many others he has told over the years. False grandiose stories and faux acts of heroism that make him appear every part the savior, and never the villain that he truly is.

He can’t help himself, especially not when your eyes linger on his face with adoration, and something sweeter—something that drives him mad with how he can’t quite place it.

All he knows for certain is that nobody has ever looked at him the way you do, and like every precious thing in his life, he hoards. Your smile. Your laughter. The feel of your fingers tenderly tracing the scar on his face as you lay beside him. This is his—you are his, and he refuses to let go.

The rational voice in his head berates him, hisses about his ever-growing mistake. It demands that he be done with you for good, but the darkness inside of him rages at the thought.

He hasn’t finished consuming. He still wants more.

And you are always so eager to give.

“Is there anything I can do?” you ask sweetly—so sweet that Crocodile almost misses how suggestive your inquiry is.

You hold his gaze, not backing down or shying away.

“To help relieve the stress?”

You’re so thoughtful, even when you’re wrong. In anyone else Crocodile would find the characteristic annoying. He has condemned people for far less, yet he desires it from you—to know he is on your mind, that he occupies a space that nobody else does.

“C’mere," he commands, exhaling a final puff of smoke and tossing the used cigar into an ashtray as you lift from the settee.

He leans back in his chair. His legs instinctively spread as you draw near, making room for you to stand between them.

The back of his hook trails up your thigh, and Crocodile grins as you let out a soft sigh that is all too encouraging. You’re lovely like this, always so receptive to anything he chooses to give.

Goosebumps form across your exposed skin as Crocodile brings his hook higher, slipping beneath your robe and continuously rising until it rests between your breasts.

“First things first…” his voice trails off as his eyes lift to your face again.

Your breathing is shaky, but he sees no fear in your eyes. Only desire. The same, insatiable hunger that aches within him.

“Gotta get rid of this.”

Crocodile yanks his hook down, ripping your robe in one clean swipe. The fabric pools at your feet, all while Crocodile takes a moment to admire the sight before him. No matter how many times he sees you naked before him, it always feels like the first time—another unusual effect you have on him, but he’s too drunk on the need to have you to analyze it further.

His dick strains against his pants, begging to be buried in your warmth.

He pulls you onto his lap, and you know exactly what to do. It makes his lips curl into a sharp smile as you reach down, hands shaking while you unzip his pants and free him.

Crocodile grunts as your hands wraps around the hard flesh of his dick. You pump it slowly—so devastatingly slow that his hips jerk forward of their own volition, chasing the delicious friction that he craves.

Your finger swipes over the tip of his dick, precum staining your hand as you continue to jerk him off with slow, methodical movements that drive him mad.

“Enough,” he hisses, sounding almost pained.

He positions you above his throbbing dick, lining it straight with your dripping pussy—already slick with your own arousal.

He’s rarely gentle, and even less so now as he slams you down on his lap, burying himself to the hilt inside of your tight, aching cunt.

You let out a sharp gasp, blissed out by the feeling of being filled to the brim. Your velvety walls embrace him, keep Crocodile where you both need him, but he refuses to dwell.

His hips snap forward as he pumps inside of you with fervor, creating a vicious rhythm that has you bouncing on his dick.

“C’mon, fuck me back,” Crocodile encourages with a deep groan.

Fuck, you love his voice and he knows it. Love the deep, fucked-out rumble against your ear while he’s deep inside of you.

“S-shit,” you whimper as you slam down on him.

You try to meet his thrusts, try to fuck yourself on his dick the way you know he likes, but he’s impossible to match right now.

You lean forward, slinging your arms around his broad shoulders as he continues to use you. You trail open-mouth kisses across his jaw, soft moans and gasps escaping your lips with each powerful push.

Crocodile tilts his head slightly, his eyes are heavier than usual as he glances down at you, watching the way his dick disappears inside of you. The squelch of your needy cunt is like music to his ears, only rivaled by the sweet sounds you always make for him.

And he wants more. He always wants more.

Crocodile is careful not to hurt you with his hook as his arms come around you, pulling you tight against his chest as his thrusts grow frantic.

You cry into his shoulder, your voice cracking while Crocodile pumps his dick deeper into your sopping pussy—pushing you to your limit. He relishes how badly you want it.

Not just your own release, but his too.

“That’s it gorgeous,” your pussy clenches around him, ripping a desperate groan from his throat. “Tell me…how good it feels.”

“Croco—ah, fuck—” your breath catches as he hits a particularly sweet spot inside you. You can feel yourself getting close, nearly there, all you need is a little push.

You reach down, rubbing desperate circles around your throbbing bud.

“’S so good—you’re s-so go—"

Your voice cuts out with a squeak. Your eyes nearly cross as you fall over the edge, ecstasy ripping through you so violently you almost cry. You come hard, gasping and gushing all over his dick. You are certain his pants are stained with the evidence of your orgasm, but you don’t have the mind to be apologetic or ashamed.

Crocodile watches with wicked fascination at how your legs tremble, how your come drips down his body, darkens his pants. It takes everything in him not to lean down to your lips and silence your cries with his tongue.

His hold on your waist tightens as he fucks you harder, chasing his own release now that you’ve given him yours. You whine—no, fucking sob as his dick continues to pound into you.

“Say my name,” he rasps.

“C-crocodile.” You match his name with each powerful thrust, “Crocodile. Crocodile. Croco—”

He slams up into you one last time, losing himself. His head rolls back, fingers digging painfully into your flesh and his hook nearly scrapes your thigh. He curses—chokes out your name as he comes hard inside of you, damn near sees stars as he fills you up.

You clench around him with a pathetic whine and he almost fucking loses it all over again.

“Do…do you feel better now?” you ask softly, resting your head against his clothed chest.

No, and he doubts he ever will. Not as long as you have this hold over him. The rational voice has gone silent—abandoned him completely— and only a single word is whispered in the dark crevice of his mind, chanted like a prayer.

Mine. Mine. Mine.

PART 2

#sunny.fic #sir crocodile x reader #sir crocodile x y/n #crocodile x reader #crocodile x you #x reader

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deadtired-highkeyenergetic · 30 days

Note

hey! i just had a request (if you like it!) - cazador taking astarion’s partner (reader/tav) when all the siblings try to kidnap astarion, and turning them, intending for them to take astarion’s place - ofc astarion and crew arrive in time and scene progresses as normal, but now reader/tav is a vampire spawn. just fluff and hurt/comfort

Oh wow this became far darker than intended, I hope you don't mind. I do feel a little bad for reader in this one, honestly. Part 2 can be found here!

Spoilers for act 3!! If anyone still needs this.

Astarion’s shout stirs you from your peaceful slumber and you sit up with a start, eyes wide. Your hand automatically shoots to your weapon, fingers curling around it when you see two figures slowly approaching your lover who back away, hackles raised.

“Peace, brother. We’re here to take you home.” One says and you frown, ready to step in if needed. The other one urges Astarion to return with them, to ‘be reborn’ and you quickly make your way to Astarion’s side, ready to fight if need be. You didn’t care that those two were vampire spawn, you would defend Astarion with everything you had. You weren’t going to lose him now, not after coming all this way.

Astarion’s hand gently brushes against yours, a silent thank you for your show of support as you size your potential opponents up. With a gentle squeeze of your hand, Astarion moves to step slightly in front of you and begins to tell his siblings of his plan to take Cazador’s place in the ritual, to ascend and his siblings are none the wiser about the lies he’s weaving.

You know how desperately he wants the ritual, how he yearns for the power it will give him and yet you’re torn between convincing him otherwise and letting him take it. You don’t want to see him drown in the pursuit of this power but you know how much it means to him, the idea of being able to walk in the sun again, the idea of no longer being under someone else’s control, so you keep silent, your mind in turmoil.

Either way, the encounter ends with Cazador taking control of the spawns and it delves into a fight as Astarion does all he can to protect himself and you do all you can to ensure neither spawn manage to lay a hand on him. By the end of it, you’re panting from exhaustion, scratches lacing your skin but the two spawns have been backed into a corner and you have emerged victorious alongside Astarion.

Or so you think.

Suddenly, a chill runs down your spine and mist turns into a humanoid figure with glowing red eyes. Astarion’s eyes widen and he takes an instinctive step back. The two spawn cower as a sneer forms on the humanoid’s face, a clawed hand reaching out towards you.

“Y/N I presume? I have heard much about you, it is an honour to finally meet you.”

Cazador.

You swallow hard, refusing to show the vampire lord a hint of fear and meet his burning gaze that stares into your very soul.

“Cazador,” you say, tone measured. “If only I could say the same.”

Why was he here? Was he going to forcefully take Astarion away? If he was, you were pretty much powerless to stop him by yourself and he would be able to start the ritual. You keep your eyes fixed on the vampire lord who is smiling unnervingly, standing your ground as he takes a step towards you.

“Thank you for taking care of my precious lost son,” he places a hand on your shoulder which you brush off, glowering at him. He remains unfazed despite your rude gesture, the smile still fixed on his face.

“You’re very welcome,” you say stiffly, still uncertain about what Cazador was here for. He hadn’t spared a glance at Astarion at all, which was odd and the other two spawn hadn’t made a single move to kidnap Astarion, even though now was the best time to do so.

“In return, I would like him back so that he may return home.”

“No.” You immediately growl without a second thought. “I will not let you lay a hand on Astarion again.”

“How courageous of you,” the vampire lord chuckles. “To think that my son has found someone like you…to guide him back. I really am extremely grateful to you.”

Astarion makes a noise, ignoring the shaking in his hands and moves to stand next to you. He can’t leave you to face Cazador alone, not after he’s promised to always be by your side and so despite the nauseating fear that is rising in his throat, he forces himself to face his tormentor.

“Now then, my boy” Cazador continues, gaze finally turning towards him. “I will give you a choice. You, or your precious Y/N.”

“What?” Astarion narrows his eyes.

“Choose. You, or Y/N.” Cazador repeats.

“What do you intend to do?” Astarion snarls. Cazador doesn’t answer his question and simply raises three fingers, slowly counting down. Confused, Astarion opens and closes his mouth, unsure of the consequence each choice will spell and a wide grin forms on the vampire lord’s face once the last finger is down.

“Time’s up, my boy. I suppose, I will have to make the choice for you since you cannot make up your mind.” Cazador places a hand on your shoulder. “Say goodbye to your precious Y/N.”

Astarion takes a step towards you, your name on the tip of his tongue but he is too late, slowed by the tadpole and Cazador whisks you away along with the other two spawns, back to his palace.

“No, no, no!” Astarion roars, hand grasping thin air. “Cazador!”

The others come running over at the commotion, confused when they see Astarion on his knees, sobbing and cursing.

“What happened?” Halsin asks, kneeling next to the wailing vampire.

“Cazador!” Astarion snarls through the tears. “He took Y/N!”

“He took Y/N? Aren’t you the one he’s after? Why did he take them?” Wyll asks.

“Didn’t you say you’d protect them? Why didn’t you?” Lae’zel snaps. Astarion whirls around, ready to tear Lae’zel apart but Halsin holds him back, the vampire thrashing in his grip.

“Calm down, Astarion. We won’t get anywhere fighting amongst ourselves. Do you have an idea of where Cazador might have taken Y/N?” Halsin’s low voice gently rumbles.

“His damned palace, probably,” Astarion mutters, guilt tearing away at him. He should have given Cazador an answer, he should have been stronger and pressed Cazador for answers, he should have pulled you away from Cazador the moment the vampire lord had placed his hand on your shoulder.

“Then we will head there immediately,” Jaheria smoothly takes command and the other nod in agreement. The longer you were with Cazador, the dimmer your prospects, for who knew what Cazador wanted with you? Time was of the essence.

“We will get Y/N back,” Gale said firmly. “We will rescue them.”

At Cazador’s palace, you were held in place by blood red glyphs as Cazador circled you, ruby eyes glowing in the darkness.

“You are a fascinating creature, Y/N. Time and time again, I’ve taught my imperfect son not to form a relationship, that such bonds are a weakness he cannot afford, and yet he still chooses to form a bond with you. He knew of the consequences that would follow, and still decided to proceed. I wonder what about you makes him decide to risk it all.”

You remain silent, glaring as hard as you can at him. He leans in closer, a cold finger traces along your jawline and stop at your chin.

“Is it because of how much you make him think you care for him?”

“I genuinely care for him, unlike you!” You spit, jerking away from his touch.

“Or maybe your looks.” He pretends to contemplate before tightly grabbing you by the chin and pulling you towards him.

“No…that can’t be it.” He smirks. “Oh, I know. It’s the delectable taste of your blood, isn’t it? I can see the bite marks, he clearly loves drinking from you.”

“Piss off!” You snarl despite the fear creeping into your chest. “Whatever goes on between Astarion and I is none of your concern!”

“Oh, but it is. He is, after all, my son.” Cazador leans even closer, pressing his lips against the bite marks on your neck. “And you too, will become my child.”

His fangs sink into the soft supple flesh of your neck, painful and harsh unlike Astarion’s bite and you hiss, struggling to get away but the glyphs hold you tight. Your heart thunders, blood rushing in your ears as you snarl, spit and thrash as hard as you can but his fangs remain firmly lodged in your neck, your precious lifeblood gushing down his throat. Spots start to form in your vision and you feel yourself weakening, life fading away.

“Oh, don’t worry.,” you barely hear him as the world starts to turn black. “I don’t kill my own children.”

When you wake, everything is dark, but something feels different. Your sense of smell is sharper, you can see the lines of wood in the dark and…

“Welcome back, my child.” The sound of wood scraping rakes your ears and you quickly cover them, hissing.

“How are you feeling?” Cazador smiles, setting something down before turning to you, holding out a hand.

“Get lost!” You slap his hand away, trying to take in your surroundings. You’re in some sort of underground area, judging from the leaking ceiling and the musty smell in the air. The tiny squeaks of rats fill your ears and you notice chains hanging from the wall in front of you, covered in dried blood.

“How rude. It seems the first thing I must teach you is manners,” Cazador tuts. “Repeat after me, ‘I am fine, thank you for asking, master.’”

“Go —” A presence dominates your mind, sending your tadpole squirming as it tries to take back your mind. You scream, the tadpole’s fight tearing your mind apart and you hear Cazador snarl in frustration.

“That blasted thing!”

He looks back up at you, a smile slowly reforming itself upon his face. “Still, it doesn’t matter. I don’t need to have complete control over you for my plan to work. All I need is you.”

“What do you intend to do?” You pant, head throbbing.

“Why, have you take that boy’s place in the ritual of course. He chose to sacrifice you instead of himself. Now come along, I would rather not have to drag you out in front of your new siblings.”

You quietly follow him, mind still struggling to wrap around recent events. One moment you were trying to find Gortash and Orin to prevent The Absolute from taking over Baldur’s Gate, and then next you were Cazador’s latest vampire spawn, a sacrifice for his ascension. Cazador didn’t seem to mind your silence, tightly holding onto your hand to ensure you couldn’t just run away, not that he would have much of a problem catching you anyways.

He leads you to a grand hall where a pentagram has already been drawn with blood in the center of the floor and seven pedestals surround it. His other vampire spawn each stand on one, waiting for further instructions and you glance around nervously. Would the others be able to find this place before it was too late?

Cazador unsheathes a dagger, snapping his fingers and glyphs appear around your wrists and ankles once more, forcing you to kneel on the ground in front of him. He slices your clothes open, tossing them away until you’re half naked and bends down next to you.

“I believe you know what comes next.”

Bile rises in your throat, your clawed fingertips digging into your palm as you prepare yourself.

“Go rot in the hells.”

He laughs, knowing that all you can do is spit words at him and raises the dagger with a sadistic grin.

Then plunges it straight into your back.

The pain tears you apart from the inside, gnawing at every fibre of your being as you keenly feel each and every sinew being split open by the dagger, warm blood coating your back. You can hear screaming, was it coming from you? You couldn’t tell, your mind was far too hazy to make anything out.

Everything hurts, everything hurts, everything hurts.

You scream until your voice turns hoarse, but Cazador doesn’t stop. He continues with his work of art, twisting the dagger whilst its blade is embedded in your flesh whenever you collapse, shocking you back into reality. Over and over again he marks your flesh with Infernal script and you wonder how Astarion pulled through this.

Suddenly, the dagger stops. Cazador shouts something but your ringing ears can’t make out anything. Something red slams into the vampire lord and sends him crashing into the floor with a war cry, followed by an axe.

The glyphs holding you up disappear and you feel yourself falling, but not an inch of your body obeys your command to break your fall. Before the floor can meet you, a pair of warm arms wraps around you, holding you steady.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”

You stare blankly at the floor beneath, wishing it had ended your suffering but then you remember that you’re a vampire spawn now and simply smacking into the floor wouldn’t kill you.

“Y/N? Talk to me,” the voice speaks again. Your swimming vision barely manages to scrape together an image and through the haze your mind recalls a name. Wyll.

A small noise escapes your lips and the Blade of Frontiers lets out a sigh of relief.

“You’re alive, that’s good.”

“No,” you whisper. “Not. Alive.”

“Not in that sense,” someone else speaks. Halsin.

Something new warms your back, blue light shimmering around you, “don’t you dare fall asleep.” Shadowheart.

“As…”

An angry cry pierces through the air. More shouting. Then. Silence. A figure rushes to your side, silvery curls stained with blood.

“Y/N!” There’s panic in the voice. “Darling?”

“As…ta…rion.”

“You’re safe now,” he pulls you into a hug. “You’re safe now.”

“Hurt…”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Astarion chokes. “I’m sorry I let that monster take you, I’m sorry I let you get hurt, I’m sorry I was late.”

His apologies are met with silence, your body limp in his arms as you struggle to stay awake. You want to reassure him, you want to say something but your body refuses to cooperate.

“I’m sorry,” he sobs. “It’s my fault that you were taken, I promised to protect you and yet, and yet I —”

“It…s…ok.”

“It’s not!” He snaps. “It’s not ok! Nothing is! I let Cazador take you! I let him turn you! Now…now you can’t walk in the sun anymore! Not once that damned tadpole is removed! You’ll constantly feel the hunger! Others will call you a monster!”

Astarion stops when he sees the fresh tear streaks on your face, biting his lip hard. You come first, you need him right now. He pushes his self-hatred away and focuses on you, wrapping his arms around you and hugging you tightly, ignoring the blood that seeps between his fingers. He presses his lips against the top of your head as your shoulders shake.

“I’m right here, my love. I’m right here. I promise, you’re never alone. You will never be alone. I will be right here, by your side to help you shoulder your burdens as you’ve helped me. I promise.”

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion bg3 #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion x tav #astarion romance #astarion ancunin #cazador szarr #bg3 cazador #tav #bg3 fic #bg3 angst #bg3 fluff #hurt/comfort #hurt/angst

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mistywaves98 · 2 months

Note

Okay.... but like, consider merman/siren (Not the bird kind of siren.) Scara sinking our ship and eating our crew. But we're a woman disguised as a man because they used to not let women on ships. He only eats men so when he notices we're different he takes an interest in our body, mainly our boobs? I don't know- just a random thought I had while trying to concentrate during biology. Can be read as a drabble/brainrot or a request. Whichever you'd prefer to read it as<3

This is a very interesting concept ngl 😮 also this was not as great as I'd hoped it would come out..

✧･ﾟ:* ->Siren! Scaramouche x Fem! Reader

✧･ﾟ:* ->¡Warnings!: (sort of) NSFW, Just him being entranced by your chest, Nipple sucking, Making out!

✧･ﾟ:* ->Smut written by a minor!

You had just begun to feel like everything was going according to plan until your ship was attacked and your crew disappearing beneath the water, only to resurface as mangled corpses. The water around you was a horrible mix of blood and guts as you clung desperately to a floating piece of board that passed by.

You couldn't see anything beneath you, it was just water that went deeper for miles. Suddenly, a webbed hand shot up behind you and covered your mouth. A shape emerged alongside it and you felt a firm, wet chest against your back. Another arm wrapped around your upper torso as a raspy voice whispered into your ear,"Looks like I missed one.."

You thought this was the end, and didn't even bother to struggle since you knew it was futile. This creature was going to turn you into one of the dismembered bodies that were still somewhere nearby. However, you didn't feel yourself pulled underwater. The hand on your chest suddenly moved, slowly tracing the curve of your breasts through your clothes. You couldn't help but feel embarrassed as the creature you assumed to be male straight up groped you.

Suddenly, you felt sharp nails dig into your shoulders as the webbed hands spun you around, giving you a clear view of your 'attacker'. Slit pupils bore holes into your chest as he studied you with a furrowed expression. There were fins in place of his ears and his indigo hair seemed to flow around him despite being dripping wet. His eyes then darted up to your face, his glare piercing you.

"You...you're not a man." He said in a flat tone. You slowly nodded your head,"You're right, I'm a woman... Aren't you going to eat me?" "Eat you? Don't be an idiot, I don't eat female humans," he scoffed as if it were the most obvious thing in the world,"...especially not such lovely specimens such as yourself..." his voice suddenly dropped an octave and a dark expression came over his face. He leaned in a bit, his nose almost touching yours,"You know that you're trespassing by sailing here, right? That's why I killed your crew as a punishment for disturbing my peace. But I won't kill you, though. I already have an idea of what I'll do to you..." His eyes flickered downwards for a split moment and you blushed in embarrassment as you caught onto his meaning,"O-Oh... Well I suppose I am in the wrong... Punish me as you see fit."

Your top was tugged open, even torn in some places due to the enthusiasm of his claws. His scaly tail curled around your lower body beneath the water to hold you still as he lowered his head down till it was level with those soft mounds now covered in droplets of water. Moans keened from your throat as he hungrily began to suck on your left nipple, pointy teeth grazing the already erect bud, eliciting a soft yelp from you.

Your hands weaved their way into the damp hair on the back of his head, tugging him closer,"Mmm...you're so eager, aren't you my little captain?" He teased with a smirk as he released your nipple with a pop and pulled back a bit. Your hands came down to grasp his shoulders as his hands moved up to toy with your breasts, squeezing and kneading them between his webbed hands. The sensation was strange yet pleasurable at the same time and it left you breathless and flushed in the face.

The siren seemed to notice how you seemed to writhe even more when he occasionally gave your nipples a light pinch,"These are so sensitive... Yet they taste delicious. I want to taste more of you." With that, he dove in and captured your lips in an intense kiss. His hands brought you closer, one holding the back of your head to ensure you didn't pull away. You moaned as you felt his tongue snake its way into your warm mouth. It was so sleek and long, practically choking you with how deep it reached, yet it felt so amazing, you didn't want to pull back.

However, the kiss inevitably ended when you needed to breathe. He licked his lips as he watched you catch your breath, appreciating the sight of your exposed chest heaving with every inhale,"Your mouth tasted even better than I imagined. I bet there's other places that would feel absolutely divine on my tongue...but for now I'm satisfied. But don't think that means I won't be coming back for you." He suddenly scoops you up in his arms and makes his way to the beach nearest to the mainland.

As expected of a siren, you arrive there in a matter of minutes. Once you get close enough, you decide to part ways and swim the rest of the way, but before you go he says,"The name's Scaramouche by the way. Remember it for our future encounters." After that final goodbye, he disappears beneath the water and you vaguely make out a dark shape heading back out to deeper waters. As you sit on the beach, attempting to cover up your torso so it looks somewhat decent, you can't help but think that you'll be venturing to that part of the ocean a bit more often now, but on purpose this time.

#this was harder to write than i thought #how do fish fuck y'all #genshin smut #x reader smut #smut #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader smut #scaramouche smut #scaramouche x reader smut #scara smut #scara x reader smut #✧･ﾟ:* meena's memos! ✧･ﾟ:*

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riverlikethelake · 1 year

Text

A Long Way Home

Aonung x Omatikayan!Fem!Reader

Summary – Leaving your life behind to move to the reefs wasn't your plan, all you really want is a peaceful life with your family, but one of the Metkayina boys keeps staring at you...

Contains: Mentions of death, slow burn (?), Spider is mentioned in a good light (please bear with me), complex parental relationships, heavy development on platonic/family relationships

pt.2 pt.3 pt.4 pt.5

Word count: 4k

“This is our home! This is my home!” Neytiri cried, you pulled away from the tent, pursing your lips. You sat back and watched as Tuk peeked under the tent, Neteyam and Lo’ak leaning in further. Kiri looked back at you but didn’t move from her place listening to the conversation.

You could hear Jake arguing back but you couldn’t make out the words, not that you needed to. As much as it pained you to admit it, Jake was right, the forest wasn’t safe for the Sully’s anymore, they already took your brother, and he knows everything about life here.

The weight on your chest only became heavier. Before anyone could notice, you stood up and quickly made your way to the edge of the cavern your clan had taken refuge in.

Spider wasn’t your biological brother, hell he wasn’t even the same species anymore but for a long time it felt like he was the only one you truly had.

You were almost a year younger than him and born after the humans left earth, your mother was allowed to stay behind on Pandora. Unfortunately, that meant medical supplies were stretched thin and your mother died soon after you were born. Ironically the Omatikaya were celebrating Neteyam’s birth only a few minutes earlier.

It wasn’t till you got older that Norm and Max noticed how sickly you were, scratches and bruises weren’t a problem on Spider, but for you they stayed and got infected easily. Staying outside after dark when it got cold was too risky, Neteyam and Lo’ak often had to piggyback you to Hell’s Gate because you lost track of time or ran out of stamina.

Everything changed when you turned 6, after a strenuous forest exploration and a bad injury you ended up bed ridden for days on the verge of death. Having been worrying about an event like this happening for almost all your life, Norm and Max had quietly prepared an Avatar body for you years ago in hopes the Omatikaya would accept another consciousness transfer.

Spider didn’t leave your side for weeks after that, he fussed over everything you did and insisted Neteyam or Kiri were around when traveling through the woods. You could tell that you now being Na’vi bothered him, you no longer had common ground, you were once alone together but you could tell he now just felt alone.

Neteyam also became overly protective after that, he seemed to be able to read your mind and emotions. Jake and Neytiri kept a close eye on you, now being Na’vi Neytiri accepted you into their family.

But now Spider was gone, he was taken by the humans and Jake wants to leave.

You called for your Ikran, Tsyía, it was getting late but you needed to clear your head. You weaved between the trees, slowing down once you made it past the thick of forest, you sat up and breathed in the air.

If Jake and Neytiri decided to leave this would be the last time you’d see the forest, explore the trees, race Neteyam and Lo’ak through Hallelujah mountains, take Tuk far above the tops of trees and to the stone pillars. Your entire life was this forest.

The wind blowing your hair always calmed you down, the way the sun shone on the rocks was your favorite site. You kept your hold on the saddle, but you let yourself sit back and enjoy the air, your other arm coming up and back with the wind. You closed your eyes. This was peace.

Your Ikran cried, alerting you that you were approaching the human camps, quickly you started ascending higher and higher before dropping. A trick you never did around Neteyam or Lo’ak knowing how their individual reactions would cause Jake and Neytiri to get word of it.

Freefalling for a few seconds, further and further before you grabbed on tight to the satchel and Tsyía leveled out just above the trees. You flew around for a while, memorizing your home before heading back.

You didn’t make much of a commotion when you came back but Tuk immediately an over and held onto your leg.

“Y/n you’re coming with us, right?!” She begged, you were taken a back and looked up to Neteyam and Kiri who were walking up to you.

“Mom and dad were discussing what they’d do if you wanted to stay behind” Neteyam explained, he looked nervous himself.

You smiled and bent down closer to Tuk, “Of course I'm coming with you” you glanced back up to Kiri and Neteyam. After you were able to soothe Tuk you noted how late it was and insisted she go to bed, Kiri followed her after simply placing a hand on your shoulder and telling you she was glad. It wasn’t much but you knew it meant a lot coming from Kiri.

You and Neteyam shared a look before you moved to sit next to the cave opening, Neteyam sitting next to you, your head falling on his shoulder.

“What made you change your mind?” he asked after a moment of silence. You frowned. “My mind was never made up, I just made my decision”

“I wonder what the ocean looks like” you thought out loud, fatigue growing. Neteyam chuckled “Was that your deciding factor?”

You frowned again, bickering with him about your poorly timed statements. Neteyam seemed satisfied with this even if it didn’t answer his question, talking about what it would be like to live on the reefs.

You don’t remember falling asleep, but you woke up cuddled with everyone else back in the tent.

By the time the reefs came into view you were exhausted, and so was Tsyía, you all came to a landing on the shore edge. It was unnerving with the crowd that surrounded you all, Tuk hid behind Neytiri’s leg, but you picked her up and cradled her in your arms when she looked back at you nervously.

Kiri and Lo’ak both moved so you’d all be closer together when who you assumed to be the Olo'eyktan and Tsahìk parted through the crowd. Your father explained how he sought safe refuge for his family, but you watched as Lo’ak struggled to tear his eyes away from a girl who rose from the water.

Your attention was drawn back to the situation when a couple of boys circled you and your siblings, grabbing at your brothers’ tail.

“Is this supposed to be a tail?”

“How will they swim?”

You held Tuk closer and watched as Lo’ak barely held himself together. You looked over your shoulder and glared at one of the boys who was seemingly going to poke at you too, you held his gaze for a moment, he lost his smirk, and simply stared at you. He looked you up and down and you could feel the urge to curl in on yourself, whether that be from the intensity of his gaze or not knowing what he was thinking.

Before he could say anything, the girl from before scolded the two boys before taking her place next to the Olo'eyktan. She must be his daughter. The two boys backed down as your father continued speaking, the boy you stared at taking his place on the other side of the Olo'eyktan. Oh great.

You tried to not be bothered when they pointed out the odd number of fingers you and your sibling possessed. You mostly focused on soothing Tuk until the Olo'eyktan, whom you learned was named Tonowari, announced that your family was welcome and his children, Ao’nung and Tsireya would teach you all how to adapt to the Metkayina way. The boy protested but shut up when his father shut him down, he locked eyes with you, an indescribable look on his face.

Ao’nung huh?

Tsireya showed you all the way to your Marui pod, Tuk practically jumped out of your arms to jump across the pathway.

You observed your surroundings as you walked, people casting out fishing nets, children swimming under the walkways and jumping off the docks, the animals swimming around peacefully and interacting with the people there. Everything was so different than what you were used to, but an excitement you hadn’t expected spurred into your body. You had adapted to the Na’vi way once before, you could do it again.

Tsireya officially introduced herself, and you didn’t miss how she kept her eyes trained on Lo’ak most of the time.

“I am Neteyam, and this is my twin Y/n-” You internally rolled your eyes at how he insists on that. “This is our youngest sister Tuk” he continued. He gestured to Lo’ak and Kiri. Kiri introducing herself warmly and Lo’ak mumbling sheepishly.

Tsireya smiled at Lo’ak then to everyone else, after you settled down in the hut, she guided you all towards the edge of the docks to start your first swimming lesson. She and Ao’nung dove into the water with Rotxo, Neteyam and Lo’ak following them. You and Kiri shared a look before Tuk jumped in, then finally you and Kiri.

Being in the water was strange at first but you were able to familiarize yourself fairly quickly, Kiri had no trouble holding her breath while the others seemed to struggle more.

Your siblings swam after Tsireya and her brother, Kiri, staying behind to admire the plants and animals, getting lost in it all.

You followed the group but took more time getting close to the plants and watching the fish swim by. Soon you had to swim up for air, you breached the surface just as Neteyam and Lo’ak did, taking in breaths of air.

“It's so beautiful here” You grinned. Neteyam and Lo’ak looked at each other then back to you, affirming their agreement.

Ao’nung and Tsireya re-surfaced in front of you guys, you took a deep breath before going under again, making your way back to be mesmerized by the scenery, after a second ao’nung appeared infront of you, he started to sign something, but you couldn’t understand so you both swam up to speak.

“What are you doing? Your brothers are learning to breathe right” he questioned as if saying ‘why aren’t you too?’

You simply glanced back down and shrugged, you looked him in the eye “the reef is beautiful” you smiled and dove back down before he could say anything else

The feeling of being fully submerged in the water was what you loved, the fish that swam around you and the light reflecting off the coral.

Before long, Neteyam insisted we all return to the pod, Jake and Neytiri sat on the floor and waited for everyone to settle down to start dinner.

The pod wasn’t like the hammocks you grew up on, but the sloshing of water and arms cuddled around you comforted you to sleep.

You were adjusting well; your breathing was getting better, and you were picking up their underwater language quickly. Ao’nung and his friends teased your siblings a lot which upset you,but you often found him drifting near you, showing up in the same part of the reef you were exploring.

He started telling you about the different plants and animals, guiding you to the best parts for that time of day but he always found soemthing to make fun of, pulling at your tail or how clumsy you were in the water.

When it came time to tame the ilu and he called for them, you found yourself intrigued in the noises he made but once there was one infront of you that was all you wanted to focus on.

You felt his eyes on you, your brothers were learning to mount their ilu, you just stroked the one in front of you, smiling as you took in the animal, their fins and their beauty.

“-Y/n” Tsireya’s voice pulled you out of your trance, you looked up to see them looking at you, Neteyam and Lo’ak already on their ilu’s back. “Are you not going to get on?” she asked.

You looked down, “I uh… I wasn’t paying attention, I’m sorry” your cheeks burned at the embarrassment. Tsireya giggled and asked Ao’nung to show you how to do it again.

Ao’nung swam over to you begrudgingly, you mounted your ilu and he guided your hands to the correct positions.

“Now body position is very important,” He started to explain. “If you don’t have it right you could go too slow or fall off.” You listened intently, but when he touched your leg or hand for the demonstration, you couldn’t help but avert your eyes. The way his voice lowered when asked if you were listening, almost demanding you to look at him, made you freeze. God he’s annoying

Your brother went first, flying off almost immediately, driving Ao’nung’s point home. You clenched your jaw as to not say anything when they made fun of your brothers when their attempts failed.

You moved forward to try, Rotxo saying something along the lines of ‘this should be good’.

You focused as your ilu dove under water, keeping a tight grip and correcting your positions accordingly. It was overwhelming moving so fast in the water, but after a second it started to feel familiar. Admittedly you didn’t have complete control, but no one criticized you when you came back, a smug look on your face and still on your ilu. Ao’nung smirking, raising his chin in a ‘told you so’ way

When you heard your sister yelling you wasted no time running over to the source of the commotion, you and Neteyam arriving at the same time. Ao’nung and his friends were picking at Lo’ak, but Neteyam broke it up, telling the boys to back off. You stood behind him closer to Kiri, Ao’nung’s glances towards you not going unnoticed.

“From now on I need you to respect my sister.” Neteyam pointed to Kiri, not taking his eyes off Ao’nung, He nodded, putting his hands up amused, Neteyam turned around, gathering Lo’ak and you to all leave.

“they're freaks... A whole family of them” Now that pissed you off, you were about to retort when Lo’ak beat you too it.

You knew something was up when he started showing off his hand, then suddenly Lo’ak was punching Ao’nung left and right. “It’s called a punch bitch.”

Ah there it is

The boy immediately tackled Lo’ak, punching him and pulling at his tail, you watched Neteyam rub the back of his head before jumping into the fight.

You and Kiri shared a look, you smirked and watched her grimace before you ran in, tackling Ao’nung off Neteyam. You two rolled in the sand, you landing on top and throwing a few punches in his face before pulling at his ears.

“You fight like a girl!” he yelled, pushing you off him and grabbing your tail. You scrambled up and threw yourself backwards at him knocking you both to the ground again. Even though your hip was now throbbing, you turned yourself on top of him, straddling his back.

“Good!” You grabbed him by his hair and pushed his face into the sand, “Now leave my fam-” you were cut off when he pushed up and you fell off him, your head slamming against the sand, you took the chance to kick him in the face as he stood up. He recoiled but grabbed hold of your ankle.

“This is stupid” you heard Kiri yell.

Ao’nung pulled you forward by the leg, instinctively you kicked his shin causing him to fall. He caught himself just before he slammed into you, his hand holding onto your ankle, moved to now holding the skin between your thigh and hip. Your breath hitched

You didn’t realize your eyes were closed until you opened them and realized how close Ao’nung was, you stared at each other for a moment before Neteyam grabbed Ao’nung by the hair and pulled him off you, Roxto rushing into drag you by your tail.

You don’t know who broke the fight up but before you knew it Jake had come to collect you all and dragged you back to the pod.

“What did I tell you guys?!” Jake yelled.

“It was my fault” Neteyam started but Jake cut him off. “No, it’s not, you need to stop taking the blame for your brother”

“It was me” You interjected, now this Lo’ak jumped at.

“No it wasn’t! They were picking on Kiri and called us freaks! I was defending my sister.” Lo’ak confessed, he never liked Neteyam taking the blame but after the incident, he was always quick to coddle or protect you.

Jake sighed, “You can’t be starting fights, we can’t afford to cause more trouble here. Now go apologize” Lo’ak tried to object but Jake shut him down. Lo’ak stormed out, but just as you and Neteyam were about to leave Jake spoke up. “What did the other guys look like?”

“Worse”

Jake nodded “Good”

A smile crept onto Neteyam’s face “A lot worse”

“Get out of here” he then turned to you

“Not worse but he didn’t get a punch in...” You muttered. He smiled and tussled your hair, nudging you out of the pod in the process.

Ao’nung didn’t know what to think, the forest freaks were nothing but a nuisance to him, but atleast he could tolerate you. Why? He couldn’t tell you.

From the beginning he couldn’t quite keep his eyes off you, the way you swam and seemingly became one with the flora was mesmerizing.

It was easy to ignore it, but you were around so much he thought he’d show you around the reef. Though a few times he purposely took you to places he knew would be difficult for you, just to get a laugh in, but you didn’t have to know that.

But then the breathing lesson came, even though you were doing well, his sister insisted that he coach you. He couldn’t even focus on your breathing; you looked so Intune and at peace when you closed your eyes. He felt like his palms were on fire, the contact with your skin was all he could think about

Even when your brothers failed miserably at taming the ilu you were still at the forefront of his mind. His skin felt on fire every time he touched you. The way you refused to look at him when he was teaching you felt disrespectful?

He didn’t even try to hide how he was staring at your face, thankfully you couldn’t see. He found himself lagging behind, watching you from afar, you and Kiri bonding with nature in a way he didn’t think was possible for forest people.

None of that stopped him from picking fights with your siblings though.

He honestly didn’t expect you to get involved, it was when you tackled him that he lost his guard, you were a good fighter too. He didn’t think much about it until he was right in your face, his hand holding just above your thigh, he saw every detail of your face and he just wanted to memorize it in that moment.

He didn’t like this but brushed it off quickly, you were new, and he was curious about you. Once he spent more time around you, he’d lose interest. He was sure of it.

You sat on top of one of the giant roots the village hung from weaving thread. You and Neteyam’s birthday was coming up and though it would be a small celebration, you still wanted to give him a good gift, an important human tradition apparently.

You sensed him before you saw him, but you made no effort to acknowledge him just yet. His presence should have put you on edge but oddly enough, it didn’t.

“You’re a good fighter.” He finally said, Ao’nung sat behind you on a different root.

“I thought I ‘fought like a girl’” You retorted, he chuckled

“I thought that was a good thing” he stood up and jumped over to the root you were on and sat in front of you. After a moment, he leaned in real close to your face and spoke, “What are you making?” He seemed curious but there was still that pompous attitude in his voice.

You thought for a moment, debating whether to answer his question. “It’s a Anurai for Neteyam” you made eye contact with him. “Our birthday is coming us soon and I suppose with all this change it would be nice”

When he didn’t answer you glanced up and saw that he was watching you weave the necklace, a small smile creeped onto your lips before you realized he was probably watching your hands

“They’re freaks. Not true Na’vi”

You scrunched your hands and necklace together before abruptly standing up, without a word you hopped down the root and walked towards the village, your pace only growing faster when you heard him call out to you.

As you approached your Marui pod you hid the necklace behind your back in case Neteyam or Tuk were inside, Tuk wasn’t good at keeping a secret.

You peaked inside and only saw Neytiri, you smiled and sat down next to her, she glanced over and asked about the necklace.

“It's for Neteyam. Our birthday is coming up.” You explained almost in a whisper, you loved Neytiri, she was your mother, but you still felt like you couldn’t breathe around her sometimes.

She guided your hands closer to her so she could get a better look, she examined it thoroughly, you held your breath. “It is beautiful Y/n, you are a loving sister” she stated gazing at you fondly.

You couldn’t help the smile that grew on your face, you scooted yourself closer to her as you continued to weave, wishing a little that she was watching. Her presence was demanding, but over time that grew to be a source of comfort for you, your need to please her only growing when she started to accept you into the family.

After a while you could hear Tuk calling for you outside the pod, you relented and hid the necklack in your bag. Smiling to Neytiri before you left you made your way to the edge of the dock, Tuk sat Infront of Kiri on her ilu, she started telling you about all the caverns Tsireya showed her. You sat on the edge of the dock listening and splashing your feet in the water.

Neteyam came up on his ilu, insisting you get in, Tuk quickly reiterating the sentiment. Before you can get in, Kiri looks around and asks where Lo’ak was

“Probably apologizing to Ao’nung or following Tsireya around” Neteyam teased

You smirked “Well I just saw Ao’nung so...” it had been obvious to everyone that Lo’ak was smitten with the Olo'eyktan’s daughter, you and your other siblings often poked fun at him for it, especially after she noted that his heart was beating fast while her hands were on his chest.

“I was just with Tsireya though...” Kiri commented, Tuk testifying the same.

You and Neteyam shared a look, he turned around and swam off with his ilu.

You comforted Tuk in the pod while she whined about wanting to go look for Lo’ak, you wanted to too, but you had to stay here, even when Kiri joined you in the pod you knew you'd be no help in the search. When Tuk got more restless you and Kiri took her into the water and tried to entertain her

When you heard he was back, you jumped on your ilu and followed the direction the people on the walkway went. When you arrived, you saw Lo’ak and Ao’nung talking, you didn’t care about what they were saying, you just rode up and jumped onto the docks.

“Lo’ak are you ok?” You placed a hand on his shoulder, looking him up and down before placing one on his face. most of the crowd had dispersed by now, leaving only you, Lo’ak, and Ao’nung.

“I’m fine sis” you could tell he was holding back. You scrunched your eyebrows in worry. “I just had a little trouble out at sea...” he confessed

“A little bit of trouble?!” You kept your voice down but the panic was still evident, you knew that what Lo’ak says is a ‘little trouble’ is not in fact little.

He places his hand on your shoulder, “Really sis. I’m fine.” He pulls you in for a hug, you nod and pull back. Before you can leave for the pod, you hear Ao’nung say your name.

His expression is hard to understand, a mix of guilt and embarrassment? You couldn’t place it.

All you do is turn your head and quickly walk away. You ignore the calls of your name.

Even that night when you all snuck off to a more secluded area to hear what happened to Lo’ak you ignored him, well you didn’t talk to him, you definitely glared more than necessary when Lo’ak talked about almost being killed by the Akula. You listened to Ao’nung as he spoke about the Tulkan but you never gave him more than a deadpan.

Befriending a deadly and killer Tulkan. Definitely seemed like something your brother would do.

“How long are you going to ignore him?” Lo’ak asked, clearly amused by the not-so-subtle distaste you showed for Ao’nung the while night. You rolled your eyes.

“He was staring at you a lot” Neteyam tartly pointed out.

“I was glaring at him a lot” you suggested

You ignored Ao’nung all morning, which for some reason made him follow you around even more. Instead of just being around, he was always right next to you or behind you. Once he realized you weren’t going to even listen to him, he just trailed behind.

This continued to the next day and eventually he got the hint and stopped bothering you.

“You know he apologized right?” Lo’ak asked while you were tending to your ilu.

“Yes.” you answered. “Doesn’t mean I want to talk to him; he got that through his thick skull eventually”

Kiri chucked, “It also helps that he and Neteyam caught on to his ogling and kept attempting to intimidate him” she mused, gesturing to Lo’ak.

“It’s weird! I don’t like it, Y/n is my sister” he defended, Kiri rolled her eyes as she retorted. “And Tsireya is his, by now you should be pummeled in the sand”

You ignore their bickering and swim to a more peaceful location on your ilu. You sat on your knees on the rock, your ilu’s head resting in your lap as you stroked her head and watched the scenery.

You were too caught up in the way the lowering sun reflected on the water to sense someone coming up behind you, suddenly you were lifted into the air and dropped slightly as they wrapped their arms around your waist, keeping you off the ground.

You screamed in surprise, ready to elbow the face of the person behind you.

“Got ya!” Ao’nung stepped back tightening his hold on you.

Relief washed over you before frustration took over. “Ao’nung let me go!” you yelled, adrenaline still rushing through you.

“No way, this is the only way I can get you to listen to me” he exclaimed, you could hear the smirk in his voice.

“Let me down.” you demanded.

“Only when you promise to hear me out” You could feel the smugness radiating from him, huffing you relented. Satisfied, he let you down but held onto your forearm when you turned around.

You glared at him to express your displeasure but he only smirked. “Listen, I’m sorry about what I did to your brother” his voice was genuine “But I realize it was wrong, I want to make it up to you.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Shouldn’t Lo’ak be the one getting compensated”

He thought, smiling “He gets a free punch on me anytime he wants” raising his eyebrows, asking if that was satisfactory.

You rolled your eyes. He leaned in closer, “I want to make it up to you for making you so distressed, and for making you uncomfortable up on the roots the other day.” he elaborated.

Oh, you didn’t think he’d assume he was the problem when you walked away. Sheepishly you nodded.

“Ok” he smiled. “Meet me here an hour past sunset” and with that he walked backwards, keeping his eyes trained on you before mounting his ilu and swimming away.

Biting your lip, you thought for a moment about whether this would be a good idea, you glanced around and got onto your ilu, swimming back to your pod.

4K notes · View notes

say-al0e · 1 year

Text

Just Friends

Rating: M | This is smut, minors, DNI! No one under 18!

Summary: Everyone seems to think you’re Jake Seresin’s girl. It’s easier than explaining to them that you’re just friends with benefits. But that arrangement doesn’t seem to be working for either of you anymore. | Ft. “No, you idiot. I’m in love with you.” + “We’re not just friends and you fucking know it.” requested by anonymous and “You matter to me, you asshole.” + “I think you were put on this earth for the sole purpose of being a pain my ass.” requested by @dreamlandcreations

Warnings: Miscommunication, idiots FWB to lovers, fear of unrequited feelings, jealous!Jake, therapist Bradley, unprotected PinV. (I think that’s it but let me know and I’ll tag anything else)

Pairing: Hangman x fem!Reader

Word Count: 9.3k (....sorry)

Top Gun Taglist | Top Gun Masterlist

The Hard Deck was, as it always seemed to be on Friday nights, packed to the rafters. A sea of khaki greeted you the moment you stepped inside with Jake following close behind but, for the first time in a long while, he wasn’t dressed to match. Instead, he’d opted for a pair of jeans, a button-down you’d stolen on more than one occasion, and boots that had seen better days - though he had to be talked out of the cowboy hat, less to protect him from ridicule and more to protect your sanity. However, he still managed to blend into the crowd as you weaved your way through to the bar.

Jake remained close, as he always did, and kept a hand on the small of your back as he nodded his greeting to the handful of familiar faces he came across. The heat from his body bled through the thin material of his shirt - he always seemed to run hotter than the average, warm to the touch on even the coldest of days - and you could feel it warming your skin as he took a half-step closer to allow someone to pass.

Only one stool remained at the bar, the others occupied with the beginning of the night’s rush, and Jake pulled it out for you with a wink and a grin when you squeezed his bicep in thanks.

“Are there more people than usual or have I just not been in in a while?”

The question went unheard by those sitting closest to you, drowned out by the noise of a group cheering in the corner, but he heard you clearly. He leaned in, breath fanning over your neck - the scent of mint gum and that woodsy cologne filling your nose, sending a shiver down your spine that you worked to repress lest he notice - as he laughed quietly. “See, sweets, this is what happens when you avoid going out with me,” he teased, grinning when you rolled your eyes.

Avoiding Jake Seresin was the last thing on your mind. If anything, you’d gotten into a bad habit of altering plans just to spend more time with him and he knew that. Still, you huffed petulantly and shifted to lean against the bar. “If you want to blame anyone, blame my boss.”

Jake waved a hand, teasing, dismissive, and shook his head as he met your gaze. There was an easy amusement in his eyes, dancing across the sharp planes of his face, and you forced yourself to draw in even breaths even as you felt your heart rate skyrocket. “Excuses, excuses,” he drawled, biting back a laugh when you rolled your eyes at him, now second nature, regardless of how difficult it still was to think with his full attention on you. “But I’ll let you have it. Tonight, anyway.”

“How generous of you, Hangman.” It was deadpan, a stoic jab he’d heard a thousand times over, but you couldn’t help yourself as you raised a teasing brow. “Anyone ever tell you that you’re a damn saint?”

Another laugh, this one a little louder and drawing the attention of a handful of nearby service members, escaped Jake as he shifted his hand to squeeze your side. The heat of his palm bled through the thin material of your top, sank into your skin and branded his touch into your memory, but you refused to dwell as you focused on his reply. “What can I say, sugar? I’m a giver.”

Despite his reputation - narcissistic, selfish asshole - Jake was, indeed, a giver. He prided himself on giving just as good as he got, if not better, and you were grateful to be on the receiving end. Still, the innuendo made your face heat and had you glancing over your shoulder, just to see if anyone had heard.

With another roll of your eyes, you nudged his side but said nothing. There were moments Jake flustered you silent, struck you quiet with a quick retort, and the thought of his selflessness - in the form of that handsome face pressed between your thighs - had you ducking your head as Jake laughed. He shifted closer, trying to move out of the way, and you sighed quietly as you spared a glance around the bar.

There was no question what you and Jake looked like to anyone who glanced your way - to the table of women who’d clocked Jake the moment he stepped through the door, the group clad in flight suits who’d eyed you as you crossed the room - or anyone who overheard a snippet of your conversation.

The protective hand he kept on you, snug at the small of your back; the way he lingered at your side, body angled toward you, rather than toward the crowd; the way he tipped his head down, pressing himself even closer in an effort to hear you over the din of the bar - the implication was clear. You looked like any other couple, out for a night of drinks with friends, and you only wished it were that simple.

Nothing ever was, especially not when it came to Jake, so you refused to allow yourself to dwell on that thought. You’d resigned yourself to your fate - doomed to be little more than friends with benefits, comfortable with casual intimacy until you began to consider your feelings - and figured Jake didn’t give your situation any thought at all.

Pulling you out of your distraction, Jake nudged your side and tipped his head toward the pool tables in the corner.

Spotting the rest of the group was always easy - they rarely strayed far from the pool tables by the windows, usually busying themselves with a game as they decompressed - and you returned their greetings with a grin and a wave of your own.

Penny, who was manning the bar alone for the time being, shot you both a smile as she placed the same bottle of beer Jake usually ordered on the counter in front of you. It would be a few minutes before she made her way to you, if the crowd was any indication, and you could feel Jake shifting at your side.

This wasn’t the first time you’d accompanied him to the Hard Deck - you ended up by Jake’s side in the little bar more often than you cared to admit - and had a routine. “I’ll be fine, Jake,” you assured him, laughing as you caught him glancing at the pool table. You turned just in time to see Javy tip his head in invitation, urging Jake to join him in a game against another set of pilots, and nudged his side. “Go ahead. I’m gonna get a drink and people watch. I’ll make my way over eventually.”

Just as he always did, Jake eyed you for a moment, clearly debating being chivalrous. He would offer to remain by your side, wait with you for Penny to make your drink, and guide you over to the pool table to hang out with the others, but you always nudged him away.

When you cut your eyes at him, he relented. “Alright,” he acquiesced, lifting his hands in mock defeat, though he still managed to grin. “I’m going. You need me, you know where to find me.” When you nodded, acknowledging the same declaration he gave every time, he turned his attention to Penny. “Penny, m’dear, her drinks are on me.” She knew that by now - had been given the same instruction at least every other Friday for nearly a year - but still nodded, acknowledging Jake’s insistence.

With that, Jake nodded and squeezed your side gently before heading for the group.

From the bar, you were able to catch sight of the group as he approached and laughed as Rooster pointed at the boots Jake wore with raised brows. Through the din, you weren’t able to make out the comment but knowing the pair, you figured it was a dig at Jake’s fashion sense. True to your assumption, the pair began to trade good-natured jabs and you shook your head as you turned your attention elsewhere.

In the beginning, when Jake first invited you to join him at the Hard Deck - back when you could confidently tell the others that you were just friends, back when you believed that yourself - finding your place amongst the crowd seemed next to impossible.

The bar, once overwhelming and far too busy for someone used to less populated divers, was now familiar. Many of the faces were now ones you knew, ones you’d seen a dozen times over, and most of them would even greet you alongside Jake now. You often marveled at how quickly it seemed to become something akin to a home base, beloved and revered and a highlight of your week, but the thought never lasted longer than a moment. The Hard Deck was part of your life now, just as Jake was, and you weren’t one to question it.

Questions, in general, weren’t asked outright.

Though people stopped to speak with you occasionally, no one ever asked about your relationship status - no one outside of the group of friends Jake managed to make, anyway - and no one needed to. Just friends or not, it was clear to anyone who glanced your way that you were Jake Seresin’s girl.

Knowing that everyone saw you as Jake’s girl eased some of the weight pressing on your chest. It made it a little easier to breathe, made you feel a little more secure as you sat at the bar, but that feeling never lasted very long. It didn’t matter much what everyone else thought, not when you knew different. You weren’t his girl, not really, and that hurt more than you cared to admit.

The little moments, hallmarks of a relationship, were the ones that got you the most.

Jake had no problem placing a hand on the small of your back to guide you through the crowd or throwing an arm over your shoulders in a brief greeting when you joined him near the pool table, but that was as far as PDA went.

Not being able to wander over to him, press a kiss to his shoulder, his jaw, the corner of his mouth as he stood with a pool cue and a beer in hand; not being able to warp your arms around his waist and lean fully into him, lose yourself in the weight of his arm wrapped around your shoulders or the feel of his hand in yours; not being able to love him in the way you so desperately wanted, eager to show him just how deeply you cared, made your chest ache in a way that was growing all too familiar.

It was growing all too difficult to keep up with the charade. Pretending that you were fine with the arrangement you made before you really got to know Jake - before you fell in love with him - seemed to be getting harder by the day but there wasn’t much you could say without losing him entirely.

And when it came to Jake, you were used to being halfway happy.

There would come a time when halfway happy wasn’t enough, you knew that. But you hadn’t figured out how to live a life without him yet. The vast majority of your free time was spent with him - tucked into his sheets, his body between your thighs; lying on your couch, watching some shitty movie in one of his t-shirts as he lounged in sweats; sitting on the beach, sand covering your entire body and crashing of waves replacing the sound of his soft moans in your ears - and you knew that life without him would be an adjustment.

For now, however, you refused to dwell on what that might look like.

However, as hard as you tried to brush that thought away - the thought that one day, maybe soon, you’d be forced to live a life without Jake Seresin in it - it continued to plague you as you sat at the bar. The crowd shifted around you and you watched, eyes skimming the crowd but not truly seeing, as service members came and went.

The seat beside you had been empty for a while but you really only noticed when a new body filled the void to your right and knocked a knee into yours.

Bradley Bradshaw smiled at you, that soft half-smile he used when he wasn’t quite sure how to approach, before glancing at Penny and raising a hand for her to bring him another beer. When the bottle was placed in front of him, he turned back to you.

“Long time no see,” he began, smile growing a touch more real when you met his eyes. “Where’s Hangman been hiding you?”

A scoff, practiced and easy - hopefully enough to hide the dark cloud that had formed above your head - escaped before you took a sip from your now watered-down drink. “He wishes it was that easy to get rid of me,” you joked, smiling slightly when Bradley laughed. “I’ve just been busy. Work’s been kind of insane.”

Bradley hummed thoughtfully, considering your statement, before taking a sip of his beer. “Explains why Hangman’s been more annoying than usual lately.” The comment was teasing, a jab you’d heard more than once - most of the Dagger Squad claimed that Jake was more manageable with you around - but Bradley gave you no time to dismiss the thought as he continued, “Glad you were able to get out tonight, though.”

The group had been nothing but kind to you, welcoming in a way you hadn’t expected, and your smile grew a little wider as you nodded. “Yeah,” you agreed readily, “me, too.” Even if you’d driven yourself to distraction, thinking about what may never be, you were truly happy to be back at the Hard Deck. Still, you decided to shift the conversation to Bradley. “How’re you? I’ve heard this first class is… challenging.”

Jake didn’t speak of work often but he’d taken to venting some of his frustration with you, occasionally sharing his annoyance as you lounged in your living room, and you knew that their first class of Top Gun recruits was not the cakewalk they’d imagined. Bradley’s wince seemed to confirm Jake’s assessment.

“I know I wasn’t a saint when I was going through it,” he began, sparing a glance over his shoulder at a group of pilots in the corner, “but I don’t think I was ever that cocky.”

“I’m willing to bet Jake was.”

If the comment surprised Bradley, he didn’t let it show. Instead, he laughed and nodded his agreement easily. “Yeah, he was. Hasn’t changed much, either,” he pointed out, eying him where he stood near the dartboard with Coyote. You knew that it wasn’t exactly a negative observation - Jake and Bradley had grown to be friends, truly fond of one another, despite their differences - and smiled as he returned his attention to you. “Some of these kids are going to give him a run for his money, though.”

“Another Hangman? Yikes. How will the Navy survive?”

Bradley hid his grin behind his beer as he shrugged. “We may never know.”

The conversation tapered off then, a comfortable silence falling over the pair of you as the crowd continued to thrive around you. As Bradley turned his attention to the group of friends he’d wandered away from, you spared a glance at Jake. He hadn’t seemed to notice your new companion yet - or didn’t care enough to glance your way - and the thought made you sigh before returning your attention to Bradley.

It was no secret that Bradley Bradshaw was beautiful. His beauty was different than Jake’s - a little less polished, a little rougher around the edges - and there was a certain charm to him that drew people in. Some days, you wondered what life might’ve been like had you met any of the others before Jake managed to sweep you off your feet, but that wasn’t a thought you ever let run very far.

Like it or not, Jake Seresin had you in his clutches. You were in love and there was little you could do to change that.

Still, Bradley seemed to read the look on your face and laughed quietly. A wry smile twisted his lips as he took a pull from his beer. “No offense,” he began as he spared you a sideways glance, “you’re beautiful and if you were here with anyone other than Hangman, I wouldn’t hesitate. But I don’t feel like fighting him. Today, anyway.”

As Bradley glanced over his shoulder, in the direction of the dartboard, you allowed your gaze to follow. This time, Jake was already eying you and the expression on his face was unreadable, a stoic mask that you weren’t in the mood to decipher. He hadn’t given you that look in months and you had a sneaking suspicion he wouldn’t be giving you that look were it not for your company.

With a sigh, you returned your attention to the drink in front of you - now melted ice and a hint of vodka. “We’re just friends,” you explained, though the declaration sounded weak in your own ears, hollow and rehearsed, and you were unable to look him in the eye. You weren’t sure who you were really trying to convince; him or yourself.

“Does he know that?” When you tipped your head to fix him with an unimpressed look, Bradley raised a hand in mock defense. “Look, Hangman’s a lot of things - an ass, mostly - but he’s not subtle.”

A snort of agreement - undignified but honest - escaped with a nod. Jake Seresin didn’t believe in subtlety and you were a firsthand witness. Though, that was at least part of the reason you were certain friendship was the only offer on the table.

“Subtle he is not,” you agreed, swirling your glass just for something to occupy your hands, “and he has made it very clear that he’s not interested in a relationship. So, just friends. With benefits.”

“When was the last time you talked about it? Because, I’ll be honest, on that first night, none of us thought we’d see you again. But then you came back,” he reminded you, expression as serious as you’d ever seen it. “It’s been nearly a year. Even when you’re not here with him, he’s with us or Coyote, doesn’t even look at anyone else. We’ve all seen the change in him,” Bradley admitted, knee knocking into yours to get your undivided attention. “There’s more to you and we can all see it. We get Hangman but you get Jake.”

Realistically, there was no reason for Bradley to lie to you. There was no way he could know the fantasy you were certain only existed in the depths of your mind. You considered him a friend - an acquaintance, at least - but you weren’t close enough for him to feel the need to protect your feelings. There was no reason for him to tell you what you wanted to hear but that did little to calm the churning in the pit of your stomach.

The thought that Jake Seresin could love you in the way you loved him, that he could truly want you - all of you, not just the parts that were convenient - seemed impossible. Too good to be true, even.

“Y’know, if flying doesn’t work out, you could make a hell of a therapist.” Bradley fixed you with an unimpressed look, accompanied by a disappointed tilt of his head, at your deflection. “Fine,” you sighed. It was clear that he wouldn’t be swayed, convinced that he was doing you and Jake a favor, so you gave in to the line of conversation. “Sure, I get Jake, but not all of him. I get just enough to break my heart and, honestly, I don’t know if I can keep doing this, Bradley.”

“I try to avoid talking to Hangman at length,” Bradley joked. That was true once upon a time, though things had changed since the first Dagger mission. You knew he wouldn’t be trying so hard unless he truly cared about him - about you both - but the joke still pulled a small smile to your lips as he nudged your knee once more. “You can’t, though. That’s only setting you both up for hurt.”

“Alright, Dr. Bradshaw,” you teased, though it sounded weak in your own ears. Bradley rolled his eyes and you relented with a nod. “Yeah. You’re right, I know. I just… I don’t want to ruin what we’ve got. It’s better than nothing.”

“For now,” he reminded you before sparing a glance over his shoulder. When you followed his gaze, it landed squarely on Jake who was eying the pair of you with a look that you didn’t like very much. It was harder than it had been only moments before, darker. The set of his jaw, the narrowing of his eyes, the thin line of his lips - it was a look you’d only seen a handful of times and it tied your stomach in knots. “Looks like you’ll have plenty to talk about tonight, anyway.”

Bradley had the decency to hide his amusement with a pull from his beer as you huffed. “I really don’t like that look.”

“In his defense,” Bradley began, lifting himself from his stool, “I’m pretty sure it’s directed at me, not you.” He shrugged, seemingly unbothered by the weight of Jake’s gaze on his every move, and offered you a final smile as he reached for the new beer Penny left in place of his empty bottle. “Believe it or not, Hangman really is better when he’s with you. He’s tolerable, almost. And I think you’ll both be happier when you talk about it.”

“Yeah.” Another sigh, this one resigned to the fact that your night would end with a conversation you weren’t sure you were ready to have, before you shot him a half-hearted smile. “Thanks, Bradley.”

With a nod and a tap to the bar, Bradley turned to make his way back to the pool table. You could see the question in Phoenix’s eyes - in the raise of her brow when he returned - but didn’t bother keeping an eye on the conversation as your attention returned fully to Jake.

The moment Bradley wandered away, Jake pressed the remaining darts into Coyote’s hands and made his way through the crowd. He stood close, body radiating a heat that you usually found so comforting, and you nearly held your breath as he offered Penny his card to settle what had to be the smallest tab he’d ever started.

Green eyes, alight with an annoyance that told you Bradley was right - there would, indeed, be a conversation of some type before the night’s end - met yours. Instead of calming the rapid beat of your heart, it only seemed to send you spiraling further when he pressed a hand to the small of your back.

“You looked like you were having fun.”

It was casual - almost dismissive - the way he said it, but you could feel the ice in his comment chilling you to the core. Try as he might to feign nonchalance, you knew him. You could read the acid behind the charming smile he wore and swallowed hard.

This was his way of picking a fight - just as he had the first time a stranger at the Hard Deck hit on you, just as he had the last time a stranger at another bar stood a little too close - and you were in no mood to indulge him. You weren’t interested in admitting you hadn’t really considered anyone else a possibility in months, that you hadn’t even really looked at anyone else since beginning your relationship with him.

Instead, you brushed his hand away and stood from your stool before beginning to nudge your way out of the bar.

There was no doubt Jake was on your heels, so close your could still smell his cologne, but you didn’t dare spare him a glance until you reached the passenger side of his vehicle. When you turned to glance at him, shoulders slumped and backs of your eyes stinging with traitorous tears, the frown on his face drew a weary sigh.

“I’m tired, Jake,” you lied, arms folding over your chest. “Just take me home, please.”

Jake’s hands flexed, desperate to keep himself calm - and to keep himself from falling into the habit of reaching for you, tugging you into his chest and kissing you breathless with the intent of reminding you just whose name sounded best on the tip of your tongue. “I’m sure Rooster would have no problem taking you home. Why don’t you ask him?”

The sneer was unsurprising. Jake’s tried and true tactic in response to any kind of hurt - real or perceived - remained a sharp remark, designed to cut deep and you could feel your own weariness being replaced by annoyance. It tasted bitter, harsh and unfamiliar, as you shook your head.

“We were just talking.” It took considerable effort to keep your voice even, devoid of the anger you knew he was hoping to draw, but you managed as you met his gaze head on.

Jake scoffed, wholly unconvinced, and smiled that sardonic smile that made you understand why so many people seemed to dislike Hangman - a persona you were fortunate enough to have been beyond. That wasn’t Jake, not the one you knew, and you reminded yourself of that, even as he declared, “Sure didn’t look like it from where I was standing.”

“I don’t know what you think you saw, Jake, but I wasn’t flirting with Bradley.” The assertion was strong, confident, and accompanied by a glare you hoped would hurt him as much as he was hurting you. “But, honestly,” you began, words spilling into the night air before you could think twice, “so what if I was? I can flirt with whoever I want because we’re just friends. Right?”

A twitch of his jaw, the slightest gesture but telling, was the only reaction you managed to pull from him. Instead, he shut down and that stoic mask - a front, hiding the raging sea that still swirled in the depths of his eyes - returned as he reached for the door handle. “We’re not just friends and you fucking know it."

“Then what are we, Jake?” The question was quiet, nearly lost to the crashing of waves, and Jake gave no indication that he’d heard you outside of another tic of his jaw.

No answer was offered, no insight into what ran through his head. Instead, Jake pulled open the passenger door and tipped his chin toward the seat. “Get in.”

While silence with Jake was not uncommon, it had never been uncomfortable. You’d gotten into the habit of spending the odd night together, lying in silence as you both read or scrolled through your phones in the afterglow of sex, but it was comfortable. There was never a weight to it but the silence that lingered on the ride to your place pressed on your chest and constricted your lungs.

Tension, thick and blinding, filled the car, even as Jake pulled into your driveway and shut off the engine. Neither of you spoke for a long moment, both staring straight ahead and attempting to gather your thoughts. You were tempted to go inside, leaving Jake behind, and calling it a night. But you couldn’t help yourself.

“You matter to me, you asshole,” you reminded him, voice a whisper in the darkness. “You know that, right?”

“Yeah? Rooster matter to you, too?”

The lack of venom in the question told you that he didn’t mean it. It was a reflex, his go-to when he felt cornered - likely by the realization that tonight would not end the way either of you imagined it would - and you wanted to give him grace. But this had become more frequent lately, a bitter end to nice nights, and had been working your nerves. Combined with the acrid taste of reality you’d doused yourself with earlier in the night, you couldn’t bite your tongue.

With a shake of your head, you unbuckled your seatbelt and turned to look at Jake. “You just can’t help yourself, can you? Jesus, sometimes I think you were put on this earth for the sole purpose of being an asshole.” When Jake rolled his eyes, scoffing at the comment, you huffed. “Everyone can see that I’m in love with you, you dickhead. Bradley was trying to convince me that I should say something because it’s been so obvious to everyone but you for nearly a year and I can’t keep pretending that I’m okay with just being friends with benefits.”

Jake Seresin was not one to doubt himself, nor was he one to doubt the intentions of others. His romantic exploits had given him a great deal of confidence in navigating conversations about lust or even infatuation, but a confession of love was, undoubtedly, not something he’d been expecting to hear. For just a moment, you could see a flicker of surprise in his eyes before he blinked and shook his head. “You don’t mean that.”

It was clear that he hadn’t been loved in a long while - not by a partner, someone not obligated to love him through blood or shared trauma - and your heart broke as you watched him attempt to process the implication. What you had was safe, a way for him to keep his walls in tact while experiencing a modicum of the affection he so desperately wanted, but it wasn’t enough.

For either of you, it seemed.

Beneath the doubt, the surprise, lingered a glimmer of something bright. You refused to believe that it could be hope - because hope was the thing that would kill you - but you were in too deep to end the conversation there. So, you nodded.

“Yeah, I do. I’m in love with you. I know the lines have blurred in the last few months and a label doesn’t change much but, fuck, I can’t keep doing this. I can’t deal with not knowing where I stand with you. I can’t deal with being called your girl but knowing I’m really not. I can’t keep pretending that I’m okay playing house when I can’t even confidently tell my family about you.” With a sigh, you shook your head and admitted, “Half-happy isn’t enough for me anymore, Jake.”

Jake remained silent for a moment, statue still in the driver’s seat, but you could see the emotions flickering in his eyes. A part of you wanted to beg him to speak, to tell you to leave or that he was flattered but it would never work or that he was sorry to have lead you on, but you remained quiet and allowed him to process. And after the longest few moments of your life - in reality, no more than a minute or two - he lifted a warm hand to cup your jaw.

As if in slow motion, Jake leaned over the console and pressed his mouth to yours in a searing kiss. Though you’d kissed him more times than you could count over the last year, this kiss was unlike any other you’d shared. It was rough, passionate and clumsy with a lack of finesse Jake usually possessed, but it spoke volumes. His fingers pressed into the hinge of your jaw, lips warm and searching as he gave himself fully to the embrace.

The warmth of him, overwhelming in the small space, bled into your skin and sent a shiver down your spine as you allowed yourself a moment to indulge. The kiss felt like a goodbye - only comparable to the one you’d shared before Jake left for a weeklong mission - and you weren’t sure if you’d get another.

“Jake, stop,” you mumbled against his mouth, shifting your head as best you could to break the kiss. Despite the hold he kept on you, he allowed you to pull away and remained close as you tipped your head to search his face. There was no hint of what he was feeling, though you took a moment to commit the look to memory - the flushed cheeks, the ruddy lips, the bright eyes - before sighing. “You can’t get out of this conversation with sex.”

“We’re not just friends,” he repeated, voice so soft it made your chest ache. It was a tone you’d only heard once before, in the dim of your bedroom the night he returned, and it was accompanied by a softening of his features as he smoothed a thumb across your cheekbone. “You know it, and so do I.”

Hope, the thing you’d so desperately avoided for so long in relation to Jake Seresin, began to bloom in the pit of your stomach as soft eyes searched your face. That didn’t sound like a goodbye - in fact, it sounded more like a greeting, a welcome to feelings you’d both avoided breathing aloud - but you needed him to say it.

“Jake.” The murmur of his name was pleading, a desperate request for him to confirm that he shared your feelings, and it made him shift just a little closer.

“I’m in love with you, too,” he confirmed, corner of his mouth kicking up in a soft smile as you exhaled. The admittance felt like a jolt of adrenaline and you were half-certain you’d misheard him. But he doubled down and continued, “I have been for months.”

A warmth spread throughout your limbs, bright and burning hot, as you searched his face for any hint of deceit. Jake wouldn’t lie, not about this, but you were still cautious as you leaned into his touch.

Realistically, you knew that Jake had to have felt something for you. You’d been together for months in everything but name - starting with the first night he slept over - but to hear him confirm he felt the same, that he loved you, too, was almost too much. You’d spent so long telling yourself there was no way, that Jake couldn’t want you in the same way you wanted him, that you needed to hear him say it once more.

“Tell me again.”

Jake smiled, eyes bright even in the dim light filtering in through the window, as he leaned in. “I love you,” he repeated, lips brushing yours and breath fanning across your cheek.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” The question escaped before you could stop it, necessary to ask but not one you’d pictured bringing up so soon. Jake, however, seemed to have expected it.

“We said no strings,” he reminded you, shrugging slightly. “Even without them, we were’t seeing other people so I thought you knew and were happy with where we were. You said everyone knew you were in love with me. They knew I was in love with you, too.”

It was as if his answer should’ve been obvious, known to everyone but the two of you, and you realized that Bradley’s insistence you talk to Jake was coming from a place of knowledge rather than intuition. You were Jake’s girl and there was no reason to question it - it was fact, easily seen by anyone who happened to glance, but easy to miss when you were so caught up in your own head.

Still, you couldn’t help but ask, “Then why have you been such an ass lately? More than usual, anyway.”

Despite the huff of laughter that escaped, Jake’s smile quickly fell into a frown as his thumb brushed your cheekbone. He paused for a moment, seeming to consider his answer, before he sighed. His eyes searched your face, for what you weren’t sure. “This year has been pretty calm,” he began, frown deepening. “I’m usually gone, out of touch for months. I can’t give you what you deserve and I was waiting for you to figure that out. We weren’t seeing other people but there was never a conversation saying we couldn’t.”

“You were jealous?”

A small part of you expected him to deny it - to scoff and insist that Jake Seresin was immune to jealousy - but you could see the hint of insecurity in his eyes. The walls were crumbling in real time, shattering to pieces and baring the depths of his soul, and you couldn’t say you were surprised to see him shrug.

“More like I was just waiting for you to end things, realize a relationship wouldn’t work and move on with someone who could make you happy.”

Jake’s admission told you more than you imagined he intended. Though he’d had his fair share of experience before you, it was clear that very few of his relationships had been more serious than a brief affair. And for all his bravado, his esteem had taken a hit. He saw himself as enough to bed, enough to ogle, but not enough to love and you could feel the ache in your chest grow more prominent as you lifted your own hand to cup his cheek.

The warmth of his skin bled into your palm and you blinked back the sting of tears as Jake turned his head just enough to press a kiss to your palm. “I haven’t even considered anyone else since we met. I know it’s not always going to be easy but it’s worth it. You’re worth it.”

As soon as you finished speaking, Jake surged forward and pressed his lips to yours. The kiss was enough to steal your breath, to express the words he couldn’t quite speak just yet, and you sank into it fully. The seatbelt buckle dug into your skin, uncomfortable but tolerable as you focused on Jake’s touch, and you knew that this was where you were meant to be.

“Come inside,” you urged the moment Jake broke the kiss. Breathless and warm, you knew where the night was headed and didn’t want to lose yourself in the confines of the car.

Jake grinned at your invitation, eyes glittering with an amusement you’d missed, as he pulled away and unbuckled his own seatbelt. “You gonna let me?”

The double entendre was one you’d brought upon yourself but you still rolled your eyes fondly as you headed for the front door. “I hate you,” you called over your shoulder, laughing as he followed you into your home.

“No, you don’t. You love me,” he gloated, countenance brighter than you’d seen it in months as he pushed the door shut and locked it behind him.

“Why, I’ll never know.”

It was teasing, a taunt that made Jake roll his eyes, but he refused to let it linger as he reached out and gripped your hips. Jake pulled you close, body pressed to yours against the front door, and tipped his head to brush his lips against yours. “Why don’t we put that mouth to better use, sweetheart,” he proposed, smirking as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

Jake gave you no chance to respond. He leaned in and pressed his mouth to yours once more, captured your lips in a searing kiss that lit a flame to the already smoldering embers of arousal settling in the pit of your stomach. His fingers dug into the skin of your hips, pulled you as close as he could manage, and you knew there would be a reminder of his touch left in the morning.

The kiss tasted of mint and a hint of alcohol, achingly familiar in a way you never expected to love, and stole your breath as his hands slipped beneath the hem of your top. As his fingers skated across your skin, calloused and warm, he began to wander backward in the direction of your bedroom.

As many times as you’d done this, making the trek to your room was easy. You managed to avoid causing any damage - to your furniture or yourselves - and only broke the kiss the moment you stepped through the doorway.

Jake was always a sight to behold, golden and beautiful in even the worst moments, but there was something about him in moments like this that made you want nothing more than to observe him. There was a hint of pink dusting the tops of his cheeks, his lips ruddy and kiss swollen, and his hair mussed from your fingers raking through it.

“You can take a picture if you want,” he teased, grinning as he reached for the hem of your top. “Give you something to get off to when I’m away.”

“Fuck off,” you huffed, though it lacked venom entirely as you allowed him to strip the garment and toss it into a corner. “How do you want me?”

“You’re letting me choose? Damn, you must really love me.” Jake laughed at the look you shot him - unimpressed, though it was a struggle to hide your amusement - and knocked your hand away from the button of your jeans. “Hands off. That’s my job.” As the denim fell to the floor, exposing you to his hungry gaze, he whistled lowly. “Fuck, sugar, you get better every time. Lie back for me. I wanna take my time with you.”

With Jake, there was never any shame. He made you feel wanted, desired in a way no one else had, and you reveled in the feeling of his gaze roving your skin. He knew every inch of you, had been privy to this view more times than you could count, but something about the look in his eyes made you feel truly seen. It was as if he were looking at you for the first time all over again and you offered him a sultry smile as you settled onto the bed.

“It’s not fair I’m nearly naked and you’re fully clothed. Lose the jeans, cowboy.” Jake grinned at your order, however teasing it was, and readily shucked off his button-down and jeans. Just as he had, you let out a low whistle and winked when he approached the foot of the bed. “I hate to boost your ego but, Jesus, you’re hot.”

Jake didn’t bother responding. Instead, he climbed onto the bed and settled above you, caging you between his arms and grinning when you shuddered at the feeling of his heated skin meeting yours. He was careful not to settle his full weight onto you, only pressed enough to feel him, and leaned in to ghost kisses along the curve of your jaw.

Warm hands skated across your exposed skin, fingers tracing a path of fire down your arm, across your stomach, along the band of your panties, as he pressed his mouth to the pulse point just below your ear. There was little doubt he could feel the way your heart hammered beneath his lips, racing with every shift of his body, and you could feel his mouth curve into a smirk as his fingers dipped beneath the fabric of your panties.

“What d’you want, sweets? All you gotta do is ask, and I’ll give it to you,” he promised, calloused fingers skating along the top of your mound.

Every twitch of his fingers sent a shiver down your spine, had your heart rate doubling and set your skin alight. He was so close to where you wanted him and you knew that this time, he would give in the moment you asked. As your fingers threaded in his hair, nails raking through the mussed strands, you shifted your hips and sighed.

“Touch me, please.” The plea was soft, whispered in his ear as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, and you could feel the warmth of his breath as he exhaled heavily. When he didn’t move, fingers still against your skin, you whispered the words you knew would set him in motion. “Always make me feel so good,” you praised, one hand falling to his shoulder as your nails lightly scraped across his skin. “No one else could ever compare.”

“Damn right.” The praise, as expected, spurred him on. Jake’s hand slipped lower, fingers gliding through the slick between your thighs, and he groaned at the feeling. “Fuck, so wet, sugar. Just for me?”

“Always for you,” you confirmed, nails digging into his shoulder as his thumb brushed your aching clit. “Only for you.”

A soft sigh escaped as Jake coated his fingers in your slick, mouth pressed to your skin as he nipped at the delicate skin of your throat, and you could feel his cock twitch against your thigh. He knew exactly how to press your buttons, how to push you over the edge with only a few swipes of his fingers or tongue, and you arched into the feeling of his mouth traveling lower as he pressed his fingers into your entrance.

Jake trailed kisses down the column of your throat, across the delicate skin of your collarbone, and winked when he reached your breasts. He nipped at the soft skin, just enough to send a jolt down your spine, before he continued his descent. When he reached the band of your panties, he took the material between his teeth and began to tug, only removing his fingers from your center to rid you of the material.

Before you could whine at the loss, Jake gripped your thighs and parted them just enough to shoulder his way between them. He pressed himself as close as he could, placed one of your thighs over his shoulder, and turned his head to mouth at the soft skin of your thigh as his fingers returned to your center.

Every drag of his fingers was purposeful, slow and deliberate and designed to have you seeing stars, and you could feel the band in the pit of your stomach growing taut as his thumb circled your clit. Those eyes, blown black with lust, lifted to your face as your fingers threaded in his hair once more, and you nearly came from the sight alone.

Having Jake between your thighs, fingers dripping your slick and focus entirely on your pleasure, was more of a power trip than anything you’d ever experienced. Every nerve ending felt like a live wire, jolts of pleasure shooting down your spine as his fingers pressed deeper and deeper, and you could only manage to cry out his name as the first orgasm - of many, you were sure - washed over you.

“There we go, sweets,” he encouraged, breath fanning over your center and making you cry out, “look so fucking pretty when you fall apart for me. Can I have a taste?”

Despite the aftershocks, the tension in your thighs and the difficulty you seemed to have finding the words to convey your pleasure, you used the grip on his hair to tug his face closer to your center. Luckily, you’d been here before - knew one another well enough to speak without words - and Jake took your answer for what it was worth.

Jake’s mouth was sinful and you could feel him smirk at the moan that filled your room as he swiped his tongue through your folds. He returned the noise, groaning at the taste of you, and gripped your thighs to tug you closer. The feeling of his fingers, slick with your release, pressing into your skin coupled with the broad swipes of his tongue, desperate to push you over the edge once more, sent your pulse skyrocketing as you tugged his hair and ground your hips in search of relief.

The pleasure was overwhelming, all-consuming in the most perfect of ways, and you knew that he would spend his night between your thighs, if you let him. His nose brushed your clit with every tilt of his head, tongue lapping at the release you’d already given him, and you could see stars bursting behind your eyelids as he doubled down on his ministrations and returned his fingers to your center.

That second orgasm - truly, a continuation of the first as he hadn’t let you come down - had your back arching from the bed and your fingers gripping Jake’s hair, just a little too tight. He pressed his free hand to your hip, eager to keep you in place, and hummed as he lapped at the release you gave him.

While you knew he would keep going, push you to a third release with his mouth and fingers if you let him, you used your grip on his hair to weakly tug him away as the stimulation began to grow overwhelming. Your thighs shook beneath his hands and your breath came in heaving pants, unable to fill your lungs quick enough, and Jake grinned as he lifted his head.

“Tastes like heaven,” he declared, laughing only when you huffed a breathless noise of amusement. “You good, or you need a minute?”

As Jake shifted, hand on your hip and eyes searching your face in search of an answer, you beckoned him closer. Despite the evidence of your slick coating his mouth and chin, you tugged him in for a kiss and sighed into it as he eagerly returned the embrace.

Against your hip, you could feel the evidence of his arousal - small wet patch blooming against the fabric of his briefs, cock straining and weighing heavily against your skin - and you shifted your hips, just enough to make him groan.

“I’m good,” you assured him, voice hoarse with pleasure and still breathless. “Please, wanna feel you.”

Jake sighed as your hands, lightly trembling with the aftershocks of your orgasm, trailed along his torso to the band of his briefs. He shifted, just enough to allow you to nudge them down, before tugging them the rest of the way off and tossing them to join your clothes.

The weight of his body pressed to yours, skin warm and slick with the lightest sheen of sweat, had you keening as the tip of his cock brushed your clit before nudging your entrance. Jake inhaled sharply at the feeling, fingers digging into the skin of your hip, and only moved when you begged him to.

Jake pressed forward, moving slowly to give you a moment to adjust, and leaned forward to press his forehead to yours when your nails sank into his shoulder once more. “You can take it, sweets,” he encouraged, voice brittle as he sank into you. “Fuck, I know you can take it. Always so good for me.”

Each sensation felt magnified as Jake settled fully inside of you. The weight of his body pressed to yours, the warmth of his breath on your neck, the rough pads of his fingers as they stroked your hipbone to calm you as your muscles twitched with overstimulation, every ridge and vein of his cock as it stretched your walls; everything felt overwhelming in the most beautiful way possible and you couldn’t help the pleading moan that escaped as Jake shifted his hips experimentally.

With your approval, Jake began to move slowly. Each thrust was methodical, deep and searching for that spot that had you seeing stars, and you could see the tension in his jaw as he began to build a satisfying rhythm. With an experimental shift of his hips, the tip of his cock nudged a spot that drew a gasp from you and he grinned triumphantly.

“Right there?” When you moaned, unable to do more than tangle your fingers in his hair and tug him impossibly closer, Jake nipped at the curve of your jaw. “That’s it,” he encouraged, hand snaking between your bodies to rub at your aching clit. “Tell me how it feels, sweets,” he demanded, voice rough in your ear as he shifted his head just enough to catch a glimpse of your face. “Feel good?”

The shattered moan you released, keening and so desperate it made his hips stutter, wasn’t quite enough. It spurred him on, had his hips moving faster, and you cried out at the lewd sound of his hips meeting your skin. “So,” the answer was split by a broken moan, a sharp gasp as he hiked your thigh around his waist for a better angle, and Jake smirked at the way your eyes rolled back.

“So, what,” he pressed, seeking an answer that he knew you were nearly unable to give. “I need an answer, pretty girl. If I don’t get one, you don’t get to come.”

Jake’s threat wasn’t empty - he’d never left you truly hanging but he had taken a particular liking to edging, pulling you to the brink only to push you back until you gave in to his requests - and you whined at the way his hips slowed the longer you took to answer.

“So good,” you cried out, finally able to catch your breath just enough to answer. “Fuck, so good!”

He hummed, pleased by your answer, and began to pick up the pace once more as your hand returned to his hair. Though breathing was difficult enough, oxygen hard to come by even in gasps, you still dragged him in for a kiss that was more a clash of lips and teeth and tongue than a true embrace as your vision began to white around the edges.

Jake could read you better than a well-loved novel, saw the signs before you could, and pressed your hips into the mattress as he sank deeper and deeper. His thumb worked tight circles over your clit, just as desperate for you to fall over the edge as you were, and you could feel his gaze searing into your skin as you came for the third time.

The ringing of your ears nearly drowned out the sound of Jake’s groan, deep and desperate as he snapped his hips a few more times in search of his own release. Every inch of your skin felt too warm and air felt impossible to come by, but you rode out the wave with the help of Jake’s hands skating across your skin.

Jake fell to the mattress at your side, careful to remain close but keep enough distance to make you comfortable, and for a few long moments, the only noise in the room was the ragged sounds of you both attempting to catch your breath.

When you could feel your temperature returning to normal, the tingling in the tips of your fingers and toes leaving, you moved your hand just enough to grab his and intertwine your fingers. “You have such a praise kink,” you teased, still breathless and voice hoarse with use as you turned your head to find Jake already looking at you.

Instead of denying it, Jake laughed and squeezed your hand. “I want to make sure my girl feels good,” he defended, shrugging as best he could. “Somethin’ wrong with that?”

“I keep feeding your ego, but you’ve never left me wanting,” you assured him, rolling your eyes when he smirked. “So, I’m your girl now?”

It was his turn to roll his eyes as he tugged you closer. “You’ve been my girl for a while now,” he reminded you. “Nothing changes except I can tell people to fuck off if they get too close.”

With a sigh, you rested your head on his shoulder and tipped your chin just enough to meet his gaze. As his fingers brushed along the heated skin of your side, warm and threatening to lull you to sleep, you tapped his chest. “I’m yours. The jealousy thing isn’t cute. You can’t lose your shit every time I talk to someone. You’re the only one I want and you have to trust that. You have to trust me.”

“I do,” he promised, gaze softening. “I’m sorry. It wasn’t fair of me to take my fears out on you. It won’t happen again,” he assured you.

Though there were still questions to be answered and a conversation to be had, you trusted that you were on the same page. And as he brushed at your heated skin, fingers skating across your back and side, you drifted to sleep with the knowledge that you were Jake’s girl, just as you had been all along.

__________________________________________________

Author’s Note: How did we get here. My smut is rusty and I need to practice. But instead I’m working on Hangman angst. Whoops.

Taglist: @lulu-noodles, @holachicos, @getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth, @withakindheartx, @ssprayberrythings, @verin93, @totalwitch2, @malindacath, @alexparkxr, @hangmandruigandmav, @alexxavicry, @calicokel, @jaymum, @dracosluvbot, @little-wiseone, @specialk6802, @mandylove1000, @xlynnx07, @julesclues, @archetypesoflife, @oliviah-25, @benhardysdrumstick, @caatheeriinee07, @prettymucheveryothernamewastaken, @yvespoems, @chloereidwayne, @flower-name

#hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin smut #jake seresin imagine #jake hangman x reader #top gun smut #top gun one shot #top gun maverick smut #top gun maverick x reader #hangman smut #hangman imagine #top gun maverick imagine #hangman x y/n #v's fics

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leclerced · 6 months

Text

good boy | op81

summary: Oscar’s girlfriend takes control after he wins his first (sprint) race, and he shows her how good he really is.

warnings: 18+ minors do not interact! submissive oscar, fem!character, smutty smut smut. thats all.

author’s note: wrote this as a blurb on another account years ago, found it and reread it and couldn’t stop thinking ab babes here so i finished it up a bit for oscie. he looks so good when his cheeks are red, don’t you agree?

She rests her hands on his thighs and lean down to kiss his chest before looking up at him, “What do you want, baby?”

He bites his lip while he thinks, he had planned on being in control tonight after his win, had whispered in her ear everything he planned to do to her during the party that followed, but he’s sure things aren’t going his way anymore considering he's naked underneath her and she's fully dressed in the skirt and top she wore to his race tonight. “I want you to sit on my face and let me make you cum. I want you to tell me what to do.” A soft blush coats his cheeks at the last words, he’s always been shy to tell her what he wants especially when his mind has gone fuzzy and he's not sure what he wants, other than for her to tell him what to do.

She gives him a soft smile and moves up his body until your her is pressed to his stomach and he can feel how hot and wet she is through her panties, She pulls her top off, a soft gasp leaving his lips at the sight of her bare breasts. Next, she pulls the skirt off over your head too, then crawls up his body so her knees are on either side of his face, “Can I touch you?” he asks, hesitant to wrap his arms around her thighs and pull her into him after she gave him the rule when they entered the room.

She shakes your head at him and slowly lowers her hips over his mouth. He turns his head enough to press a kiss to her inner thigh before licking from her center to her clit, over her panties. Her fingers weave through his hair as she praises him, “Good boy, just like that.” She moans as he sucks on her clit, his teeth nipping at the bundle of nerves before his tongue dips down to lap at her entrance. She knows how much he loves tasting her, burying his face between her thighs for as long as she’ll let him, mind drifting to the one time she let him spend an afternoon there until she was crying and begging him to stop after she lost count of how many orgasms she’d had and he still hadn’t fucked her. She can tell how much he wishes her panties weren’t blocking him from tasting all of her as he laps at her entrance, a whine leaving his throat as she tugs on his locks.

He continues mouthing at her covered pussy for a minute before he sneaks a hand between her legs and pulls her panties to the side, she doesn’t chastise him for using his hands as his tongue ran through her folds and his lips wrapping around her clit. He knows all too well how much she enjoys when he uses his teeth, knows she loves when he nibbles on her clit just before she cums and he does just that as she rocks her hips on his face. He flattens his tongue and lets her take control as she finishes, and he softly sucks one last time before kissing her clit and resting his cheek against your thigh, biting at the skin softly as his soft exhales tickling her skin as he smiles dazedly up at her.

Max is staring up at her with wide eyes and a wet chin, her juices coating his face, waiting for her to tell him what to do. “I want another one, keep going, sunshine.”

He looks happy to obey her command, nodding as he quietly asks, “Can I use my fingers?”

This time, she grants his request. “You gonna fuck me with your fingers, baby boy?” He nods and softly kisses her clit before licking up her folds, wrapping his lips around her clit and sucking softly as he brings his fingers to her entrance and pushes two in. He’s pleased with the moan that leaves her lips and the tug on his hair he gets in return as he rubs his fingers in circles against her walls, searching for her spot.

He knows he finds it when her thighs clamp around his head and she yanks his hair, praises falling from her lips as he sucks harder and rubs his fingers over her spot. It doesn’t take too much longer for him to push her over the edge a second time, her body shaking as she comes undone on his tongue. This time, he doesn’t stop as he did before, laps at her dripping cunt until she’s pushing his head back and pulling away from him, his fingers leaving her. She moved back enough so she’s sitting on his chest and he smiles up at her through this lashes as she keeps stroking your fingers through his sex mused hair. She can’t help but admire how pretty he looks with full, wet lips and she can’t help but moan when he sucks on his lower lip to collect her juices left on his skin. She watches him for a moment before asking, "What do you want now?"

Oscar bites his lip as he sighs, "I already told you." His hands hesitantly rise to her thighs, but he stops short of touching her, hovering his fingers over the skin.

She smiles coyly, "I already sat on your face, Oz."

He huffs, "I want you to tell me what to do." Her smile turns into a full on grin, and he feels her cunt flutter against his chest.

She runs her fingers through his sweaty hair as she hums, "You can touch me." His hands immediately drop to her thighs and he sighs at the contact, squeezing the supple skin after what felt like hours of not being able to touch her. He couldn't help but admire her as she teasingly brought a hand to her chin and tapped a finger on it like she was thinking. "I'm going to ride you, but you can't cum until I say so." His stomach twisted, thinking back to hours before when he had threatened to fuck her until she was begging to cum because she was teasing him under the table.

She slid down his body and he followed her up, until she was straddling his lap and they were chest to chest. Their eys met as she dropped one hand to his painfully hard cock, his entire body twitched at the contact, it was the first time he had been touched all night since he stopped her at dinner and he was now regretting not letting that side come out of her earlier. Neither of them broke the eye contact as she lifted herself onto his cock and sank down all the way. Her lashes fluttered a little when he brushed that spot inside of him and she gasped, but her eyes didn't fully close even as his hand pushed hers out of the way to press his thumb to her clit. Her voice was quiet as she murmured, "God, you feel so good, Oscie.” Her voice as she moaned his name made his mouth dry up, and he wanted to tell her how good she felt around him, that he almost came everytime he felt her around him, but as soon as he thought about cumming, his cock twitched worryingly. She licked her lips and sighed deliciously, the hot breath hitting his lips and he couldn't help but lean in to capture her lips in a kiss as she slowly started moving on top of him.

Knowing he couldn't cum made it that much harder not to, as it was all he could think about. He felt like he was on fire as she languidly rolled her hips against his, and it only got worse when she started bouncing on his cock. He broke the kiss to bury his face in her neck as he moaned loudly, his heart hammering in his chest as she suddenly picked up her pace and truly started riding him. His hand pressed to her stomach as his thumb matched her quick pace and she tugged on his hair as she moaned his name. "That's it, just like that," she whimpered as he bit her neck, his free hand released it's grip on the sheets and found a new place on her hip, grounding himself as he tried to ignore the orgasm trying to take over his entire body. The hand that wasn't in his hair had found it's way to his shoulder for leverage as she rode him, and her nails dug into his flesh and sent shivers up his spine.

It wasn't long before her grip in his hair tightened as she whined, "Fuck, just like that, Osc- I'm gonna-" and then she was freezing on top of him as her orgasm took over, her words cut off as she moaned. He listened to her orders from earlier and began thrusting up into her as he sucked a hickey into her shoulder as he tried to stave off his own orgasm. The feeling of her clenching around him nearlly sent him over the edge and he was dizzy with how good he felt, praying she would let him cum soon.

He stopped thrusting up into her and rubbing her clit when her grip on his hair relaxed and he wallowed in the still moment, even though he could still feel her tight grip fluttering around his cock buried in her. She tugged lightly on his hair, pulling him away from the new mark he had just started and guided his lips to hers, kissing him slowly as she recovered from her orgasm. They kissed until she couldn't breathe and she pulled away, both of them panting. He reached a hand up and tucked her hair behind her ears before kissing her cheeks softly, then his hands slowly began to rub up and down her sides soothingly as they basked in the moment. "You look pretty like this," she hummed as she brushed a hand across his cheek fondly. He grinned and told her she was prettier, and he earned a kiss for it. The kiss deepened as she bit at his lower lip and he parted his lips for her. His denied orgasm had finally faded just as she started rocking her hips against his, and she broke the kiss to mumble, "Want you to cum in me this time."

He couldn't help the grin that formed on his face as his cock twitched eagerly inside of her. "Get to it then," he teased and patted her thigh.

She rolled her eyes and stilled on top of him, "Don't forget whose in charge to tonight." She quirked an eyebrow at him as she threatened him and he gulped, regretting his teasing words.

He thought back to all the times he had been in charge, and repeated his favorite words to hear from her, "Please make me cum." The shift in his voice made her stomach twist and she nodded, murmuring, anything for you, baby as she started riding him again. He moaned and let his head fall to rest on her shoulder, eyes locked on to where their bodies met. The slick sound of his cock sliding in and out of her mixed with her moans was music to his ears, if he could record it and listen to it round the clock, he reckoned his mood would greatly improve. Probably get him more sponsors, the team would love that.

His thumb found it's way back to her clit and she whimpered his name prettily as her cunt squeezed him in response. He was so fucking close, he was doing everything he could not to cum before her. His eyes had drifted shut and he was kissing and biting her neck to muffle his uncontrollable moans in her skin, his grip on her hip tight as she swiveled her hips each time she lifted them to make his head spin. He felt like the luckiest man on earth when he heard her moan his name and start cumming around him for the second time that night, he didn't even wait to hear her tell him to cum in her before he was filling her, his teeth digging into her neck as he gritted out a moan of her name. They were both completely still as their orgasms washed over them, neither of them moving until he suddenly released his bite and soothed it with a wet kiss before he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her back with him onto the bed.

A surprised giggle left her lips and her cunt fluttered around him as he shifted inside of her. "You should do that again sometime," he muttered as he stared at her fondly.

She grinned, "Yeah? Was I good?"

His eyes rolled, "I'm not even going to answer that question, you don't need my praise." She giggled again as she pushed herself up to catch his lips in a kiss.

#oscar piastri smut #oscar piastri #op81 #op81 smut #oscar piastri imagine #f1 #f1 smut #f1 imagine

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tiredmamaissy · 11 months

Text

Ralak te Sepwan ieyk’itan: Special Episode I

Ralak’s First Rut

An Illustrated Collaboration with @zestys-stuff

Masterlist ; Rut/Heat/Knotting Info

🔞 minors, do not interact 🔞

Hyperlinks are attached to specific paragraphs that when clicked on will lead you to its illustration by Ralak's creator @zestys-stuff.

Characters: Metkayina!Ralak (24)/(18) x Sully!Omaticaya!Reader (19)

Warnings: nsfw, smut, fluff, profanity, age gap, rut cycle, knot play, praise kink, breeding kink, p in v, mating/bonding, knotting, multiple cumshots, creampie, let me know if I forgot anything?

Word Count: ??

Requested: Yes || No

Author’s Note: Cheers to the first special episode :) This is literally a mindfuck so bare with me! 🤍🤍

Synopsis: after mating with ralak, you settle into your new home. During some quality time together, you pop a rather… interesting question.

<;- Previous Next ->

It’s barely been a week since you’ve properly moved into Ralak’s marui pod. It’s big and spacious, perfect for two – or more – na’vi. Comfortable and cosy, built by your mate’s two hands, with his future mate and family in mind. It’s beautiful, truly. But it needed a bit more... love. Something Ralak likes to say that you would provide with ease.

Taught from a young age, a man must provide and protect his mate and their family. Wise elders engrained the truth within his being since it came into consciousness – the truth that a woman wields the power of creation. The ability to create something out of nothing and make anything tenfold better.

A house into a home. Fresh game into dinner. Seed into life.

It’s from this point of his life, that he craved a mate to provide for, to create the dreamlife he yearned to live. To give everything he had to that na’vi and watch it flourish.

And he’s finally found you.

—

Five nimble fingers work away at the woven trinkets you plan to garnish the bent wooden frame of your marui with. Slender digits quicken as they tuck the coruscant shells into the twine, pulling it taut as you double knot it. It’s the one thing you taught him, the Omaticaya are known for their skilled weaving and sewing techniques - passed down by the ancestors themselves.

He watches intently, brows twitching as he tries to follow your movements with his own thickset fingers. He’s always had a hard time with this sort of task, often resorting to the lengthy wooden needle and thinly twisted twine to fasten whatever you needed him to. He heaves a heavy sigh, letting his frustration get the best of him as he grabs the wooden needle.

Breaking his façade of indifference.

It’s silly really. You’re mated before Eywa herself, sitting together as you weave and see in your shared marui, and yet he still feels the need to express as little emotion as na’vi-ly possible. You look up to see his nose scrunch and lips pull together, the same face he made when you fell off your ilu for the tenth time. The memory has you giggling before you become aware of the sounds coming from your mouth.

It earns you a pair of beady eyes, drilling into your innermost being. It’s good to know that the teasing hasn’t stopped, even after marriage. Your giggle increases in bass, quickly turning into a chuckle. It’s infectious, spreading to his own lips to make them curl in the slightest way possible, just enough to make him look down at the way his fingers fiddle to thread the eye of the needle.

Blood rushes to his face, staining it a tinge of pink. His flushed cheeks and flustered appearance have the gears in your head grinding twice as hard, fabricating images of what he’d look like in his most primal state. All hot and heavy, chest heaving harshly from how hard he’s breathing. Is it this? Is this what he looks like when he’s in –

“Ma’ Lak.” The words slide off your tongue like nectar, sweet and thick with arousal. It urges him to look away from his task, gaze slowly trailing up your petite, dark blue body.

“…What was your first rut like?” You ask innocently.

Ralak cocks a brow, quickly dropping his head once more to hide his growing smirk. He happily puts down the needle, unfazed by your out-the-blue question and shuffles to his feet whilst offering his hand. Dainty fingers wrap around his wrist, holding on tightly as he pulls you to your feet and walks you over to the bed. He reaches behind him, gripping the base of his kuru to stroke its length and bring it over his shoulder.

“Why don’t I show you?” Ralak asks, exposing his dancing tendrils before your eyes.

Of course, the man of few words would prefer to show you rather than tell you. Not that you were complaining or anything. He’s choosing to let you in, to show you one of the most intimate moments of his life. A moment where he was most vulnerable.

You nod, quickly pulling your queue forth, revealing your dancing tendrils too. Hues of glowing lilac illuminate the space between you. Amber and azure orbs twinkle as they watch the tendrils find one another, intertwining as they come together with a quick tug. Your head flies back, pupils blowing until nothing but thin amber rings remain, breath hitching whilst your bodies synchronize entirely.

Your vision blurs until all you can see is white, and the high-pitched ringing noise in your ears drowns out the sounds of the waves crashing into the shore. Soon, you’re no longer in your marui, as the white fades out into various shades of grey. The ringing dissipates into a low, husky voice, reverberating in the background.

My tanhì. Are you there?

You can see beige and grey blobs, splitting into two and drifting apart. You can hear faint indistinguishable echoes, something like a cry, or a whine. Cool water splashes at your feet, making you rub your eyes to unblur your vision. You open your eyes, witnessing the blobs merge together and unblur into large-rocks, and pointed stalagmites.

Our cave?

You hear the faint, breathy chuckle of your mate. Yes. Our cave. I was... frightened. Came here to cool down with a bath. See?

An invisible hand gently tugs at your chin, pulling your head to the left. You see young Ralak, short haired and bare skinned, leaning against the cave wall. His ears are tucked back, lying flat against his skull as a few strands of hair dangle in front of his face, beet-red with beads of sweat dripping down his temples. The droplets crash onto his bare chest which is heaving wildly from his laboured breathing.

His less sinewy body shudders, face contorting from pain and discomfort as his shaky hands glide down his stomach to find purchase on the band of his loincloth. Hooking his thumbs underneath the twine, he shimmies it down his thighs, revealing his naked pelvis. It’s strange seeing his unscarred, uncalloused skin, bare without charcoal inking.

Huffing and puffing, he stomps his feet to unplaster the sopping cloth stuck to his thighs. A gruff grunt of frustration vibrates in his throat, hands flying to the base of his tail to extricate himself from the constraints of his taut tewng [loincloth]. He’s struggling. Floundering around as if he wanted to step out his own skin.

Your heart sinks at the sight. You want to help him. Make the pain go away. You know it all too well. To feel out of control and confused, dazed, and flustered from the actual heat brewing in your core. But all you can do is watch him from a far as he squirms against the cave wall, panic-stricken eyes growing lidded and heavy.

I had a hard time understanding what was happening. Much like you.

Young Ralak finally unfetters the knot, loincloth unpeeling from his clammy skin. He sighs a breath of relief. Finally free from his restraints, his painfully hard cock springs up, veiny and throbbing from his intense arousal. It’s almost red, mushroomy tip bulging and swollen with a thick, lengthy string of glossy precum leaking from his slit. It hangs freely in the air, swinging side to side as his cock jumps to the pulse of his heart. The swaying rope of slick finally catches along his length and begins to drip down to his – oh?

Is that your –

My knot. I was surprised to see it, too.

It’s huge. This is the first time that you’re seeing it up front. Sure, you’ve felt it before. Fuck, you even wanted to take it during your real first time – but you’ve never seen it like this.

“Tewti [whoa; wow].” Young Ralak mumbles, lidded eyes widening once they land on the sight of his knot emerging for the first time. It’s bulbous and veiny, pulsing madly as it continues to swell. A breathy moan parts his lips as a curious hand reaches for it, eager to find out how it feels. Slickened from his precum, his fingers glide over it easily, feeling the bump of each vein. His hips buck from his own touch, cock thrusting into nothingness.

Your thighs rub together at the sight. You’d never seen him this turned on before. Not even on the night of your iknimaya. And honestly, neither has he. He’s shocked to see himself so red and swollen, throbbing from how painfully hard he is. He stares at himself in awe, watching his hips stutter and squirming by themselves.

He’d never been inclined to touch himself in this way, not even in the early mornings when he was at his biggest. He would just wait for it to go down and if it was ever too overwhelming, he would come here for a quick bath. But the bath isn’t working today. It’s just too humid and hot for only water to cool down with.

Flustered, he gives into his impulses.

Webbed hand gripping his knot, he strokes upwards, cupping his pulsing tip as it oozes slick over the back of his hand. His head dips back, jaw clenched tightly as his hips stutter, palm of his hand now rubbing on the most tender part of his cockhead. He’s so sensitive – so innocent – like a single thrust of his hips would make his inflamed tip... erupt.

Oh, fuck. You shift your weight from one foot to the other - anything for a little friction.

His cock throbs madly, thick strings of his sticky seed spurting out his slit, an orgasm so powerful he can’t bite back the lengthy, pained whimper coming from his mouth. He looks down, feeling something warm on his stomach. Surprised, he let’s go of himself, staring at the thick bead of white liquid rolling between his abs.

“Oh – Oh Eywa.” He exhales wobbly, trembling hand hovering over his tender and raw cock. He’s so afraid to touch it again. But he wants to. He needs to. He just can’t help himself. All he wants to do is hump away at something – anything.

Anything to get rid of this feeling. The feeling of pure, unrefined frustration, engrained deep in his most inner being. As more time passes, he succumbs to his most primitive self, plunging under the thick, hazy trance of his rut. He grabs a hold of his aching cock, stroking it at the pace his stammering hips set for him. His head slumps back into the wall, chin pointing towards the cave’s roof as he lets loose needy, broken whines into the air.

His eyes squeeze shut, brows knotting together to focus on that gnawing feeling deep in his core. In a split second his whimpers morph into deep, guttural groans, white milky essence spilling from his tip, over his hand and onto his tensed stomach. His eyes pop open, mouth hanging agape as he sucks in a quick, shaky breath of air.

Tears well in his eyes, glossing them over with want and desperation. The blush on his cheeks spreads over the bridge of his nose, breath so hot you could practically see it. He pulls away his hand, exposing his cock, thumping madly as beads of cum roll down his shaft. It’s even harder now, so fucking hard that it strains, pulling his skin so taut that its outright painful.

He fully slumps back against the wall, snapping his hips back to get rid of the intense stretching feeling. He almost caves in on himself, desperate for release. For relief. He begins panting – heavily. Trembling lungs making it hard to catch a full breath, he feels his head spin. Finally, the tears roll down his cheeks. Tears of torment.

The first tears you’ve ever seen fall from his face.

This is what you’ve been going through? All alone? For six years?

Yes. Ralak didn’t seem to be embarrassed by you seeing this at all. In fact, it feels as if he’s... enjoying it. Not necessarily enjoying watching himself suffer, but watching you squirm around trying to deny your own arousal.

Young Ralak slides down the rough wall, finding support on a small ledge near the bank of the lake. He swallows the saliva pooling in his cheeks, trembling hand slowly making its way back down to his aching cock all on its own. He grits his teeth as the pads of his fingers graze his chafed skin. He’s so rubbed out and raw that he whines at the sensation.

It’s like stones in your heart, clunking around as your breath quickens. You feel so helpless, so frustrated, unable to do anything to relieve your mate’s pain, albeit a memory. “Ralak.” You blurt out, surprised to hear your own voice in this hazy reverie.

What shocks you more is when he snaps his head towards you, acknowledging your presence with his delirious, inebriated eyes. You never even knew something like this was possible. You knew you could visit memories, just like you would when plugging in to the spirit tree. But to be involved and interact with them is hard to wrap your head around.

You test the waters a little more, and approach him cautiously, hands splayed out in front of you to show that you have no ill intentions. He watches you move towards him, irises flickering between his usual azure blue to a shade of mauve. You can tell he’s uncertain, just by the way he tries to retreat further into the wall with hand practically plastered to his cock.

“W-Who are y-you?” His voice is wobbly and hoarse.

Tanhì. You ignore Ralak’s warning echoing in your mind and continue moving toward his younger self.

“I am... your mate.” You say in a calming voice.

“M-mate?” He can barely get the word out when a wave of heat ripples through him, making his face red and screw with discomfort. “What’s – ngh, w-what’s happening to m-me?” He panics, bottom lip quivering.

“You’re in rut.” You say quietly, hand extending experimentally, your fingertips brush against his clammy thigh.

I can feel you, Ralak. So maybe I can help you.

His freckles blink from your touch, ears hugging his skull as closely as they can. You can hear the faint chitter of his teeth, jaw clenching and unclenching as he tries to put a stop to it. He’s panting so heavily – so quickly that soon he’s hyperventilating, about to lose it.

“Hey. Hey. Breathe. It’s alright. You’re okay.” You try to reassure him in a soothing voice, resting your hand gently on his thigh. “I – I can help you... if you want me to… I know how you’re feeling.”

Tahni. Ralaks stern voice booms in your head, but you continue to ignore him. You couldn’t take it anymore – watching him suffer in this way, even if it’s just a memory. The thought of him going through this alone for six years of his life makes your heart turn in on itself. Besides, you know that he can always pull you out of this daydream with a simple tug at your kurus.

“It hurts... ssst – why does it, w-why?” He mewls breathily, hand reflexively stroking his length, knot to tip.

Your hand slides up his thigh and over his hand, stopping his eager movements. “I have something better. Something that will get rid of the pain.” You say breathily, nodding your head a bit. “B-But only if you want it.”

Young Ralak nods frantically, allowing you to guide his hands to your waist. His innocent, frightened eyes snap up to yours, making their final flicker to a beautiful mauve as they silently beg for reassurance.

“Don’t be scared. I’m right here. You’re going to be alright.” You croon at him, making your way between his legs as you untie the knot of your soddened loincloth.

You’re going to hurt yourself, y/n. Another warning.

Always so worried about me, and never yourself.

Once your loincloth drops to your knees the scent of your arousal fills the air, driving young Ralak into the thick of his rut. His pupils thin to slits and his fingertips sink into your waist, pulling you into him. Your hands slump into his chest, before sliding up to wrap around his neck for support as you mount your younger mate.

You’re squatting over him, knees pressing against either side of your breasts as you position his cock between your slickened folds. Greedy hands explore your body, gliding up and down your back before gripping your hips to move them up and down his length. He groans, closing his eyes to savour the feeling of something so soft and wet rubbing against him.

Putting pressure on your heels, you slide your slit up to his tip, shifting your hips downwards to position him at your entrance. His cock, desperate to sink itself into anything, goes into a thrusting frenzy once it feels your soft opening. He digs his nails into your skin as he forces you down onto him in one hard thrust. You hide your face in the crook of his neck in hopes to muffle the loud, pained groan falling from your lips.

You can feel every inch of him, just as you would if this were all real. Every vein. Every bump. Every throb. Once you look back at him, you’re met with frightened, innocent eyes, worried that he just hurt you. You smile wobbly, moving your hands to cup his jawbone. “I’m okay. Shh – it’s okay.”

“’m sorry.” He huffs, furrowed brows pinching even tighter as he thrusts into you, jamming his swollen cockhead into your cervix repeatedly. “s-so sorry.”

You rest your forehead against his, looking each other deep in the eyes as he ruts into you like an animal. His thrusts have no rhythm, hips stuttering at an unpredictable, broken pace. His noises are bestial and primal, whimpering and whining as he struggles to move properly.

“Oh, ma ‘Lak. Don’t b-be. jus’ want y-you to feel be-better.” Your voice bounces, hand reaching behind you to press down on his thigh to stop his movements all together. His hips come to a halt, with the occasional unintentional buck, hand caressing his thigh for a bit until he calms down fully.

“Easy, take it easy. Like this” Your hand slides up his thigh, slender fingers gripping the side of his hip to slowly pull him forward. His hips jerk forward on impulse, ramming his head back into your sore cervix. “Agh! A little – a little more gently.” You let out a sweet little cry, pushing his hips away from you.

His breath deepens so much that you can hear it – chest heaving so harshly his shoulders are visibly rising and falling. “S-sorry. Sorry.” He buries his hot face into your chest as he apologizes continually, trying to control the jerk of his hips. His arms wrap tightly around your waist to pull you in for a closer embrace.

Finally, he sinks into you slowly, completely bottoming out in your cunt until his knot kisses the softness of your slit. It’s so sensitive and neglected that he grimaces into your soft breasts, pulling away as he sucks in a quick breath of air with a ‘sss’. You look down to see his brows pinched, lips slightly parted and eyes screwed tightly shut.

He’s having such a hard time – struggling to breathe, struggling to control himself, struggling to be gentle. You can see the glister of the tears seeping from the corners of his eyes and oh – how that makes your heart throb. “Good boy. Doing such a good job, you know that?” You coo with trembling lungs, pulling his head back into you, resting his chin on your shoulder.

You hold him close, cradling him like a baby, cooing in his ear about how well he’s doing. “It’s okay. You’re okay. Just listen to your body.” Your voice quavers as you repeat his own signature words back to him. “Do what you need. Okay?”

He lets out a weak grunt, tightening his hold around you while he snaps his hips back. You can feel every vein and ridge against your gummy walls as he pulls out, and when he sinks himself back in you swear you can feel his swollen knot poking at your entrance. Again. And again. And again. And soon he quickens his broken pace, pounding into you so hard it feels like it may pop in at any second.

Heart slamming violently between your ribs, you tighten your grip around him as you prepare to be knotted for the first time. His lewd noises increase in volume and bass and soon he’s groaning gutturally as his frenzied thrusts become short and deep. So fucking deep that you can’t help but let out a pathetic little whimper when he pushes past the resistance in attempts to shove his fat knot inside you.

And that’s when you feel it.

“It’s happening. Haa – ah! Ha-ppening.” He groans suddenly, grinding even harder into you.

“Let it - haah- happen. Go on, there you go.” You pant, feeling his thick cock pulsate inside you, spurting ropes of his hot, sticky cum in your womb, filling you up until you feel heavy and oh-so-fucking full. It’s so much, it’s overflowing, excess seeping out to dribble down his knot. He’s allows a soft ‘ngh’ to fall from his lips with every pulse of his cock.

He continues to roll his hips into you, a little scared by his body’s impulsive, greedy movements. But he can’t help it, the way his body is screaming to shove this growing bulge inside your tight, little hole. He’s whimpering, at war with himself as he tries his best not to knot you.

Tanhì!

“Don’t fight it. Do it!” You cry out a high-pitched moan, grinding into immense pressure between your legs. You can feel it work its way inside you, stretching you out so much that it burns. But you know this will make him feel better – make the pain go away. “Harder. Push h-harder.” You quiet down to an encouraging, shaky whisper. He’s pushing up into you and shoving you down by your hips at the same time, clenching his jaw from the way you’re pinching him.

Pop.

“Ngh!” It slips in with an audible squelch, burning sensation between your legs growing even hotter. And hotter. And hotter. And oh – fuck. It’s so hot it feels like a ring of fire surrounding his pulsating knot. It hurts – but it hurts so good. So good that your pussy walls flutter around him uncontrollably. “F-fuck!” You cry out, quickly coming to the realization that you’re cumming from the way his knot is burying itself inside you.

He holds onto you tightly as he continues to move inside you, tugging at you as you try to come down from your unexpected high. “W-wait – Ralak!” You whimper loudly, trying to follow his erratic movements. He’s whining from the overstimulation and the way you’re pinching around him; eyes flying wide open to reveal pure panic and guilt when he quickly understands that he’s hurting you.

Suddenly, your vision goes white as the ear-splitting ring pierces your eardrums and in a matter of seconds, you’re back in your shared marui. You open your eyes with an audible gasp to see Ralak peering up at you through furrowed brows. His gaze is almost predatory – piercing, and unflinching. His slumped shoulders rise and fall from how heavily he’s breathing, darkened, almost purple-y mauve irises flicking down to his taut loincloth – soaked with his thick cum.

“Oh, shit.” You breathe, unaware that he was feeling everything, too.

“Only I knot you.” Ralak growls.

A giggle bubbles up your throat, “Really Lak?Jealous? Of yourself?”

He grunts, displeased with your behaviour. “Do not taunt me, Tanhì.”

——

2K notes · View notes

ilguna · 5 months

Text

☼ lovestruck, lovesick, lovelorn pt2 (Finnick Odair) ☼

summary; Finnick has a hard time keeping up his façade, especially since you know that what he told you was a bunch of bullshit. he's not able to confirm it until weeks later, when you've healed from the capitol abuse.

warnings; swearing, death mention, death, gore for sure, blood, weapon usage, mention of prostitution, needle mention, strangulation, abuse.

wc; 6.5k

part one.

“Sponsor gift.” Johanna interrupts the silence.

You look over from where you’re standing the water, finding the silver parachute slowly making its way down to the beach. It seems that Katniss has finally woken up, as well. She’s leaning forward on her crossed legs, rubbing one of her eyes.

Johanna catches the gift in her palms, the parachute falls away to reveal that there’s another pyramid of rolls. It looks identical to the batch you’d received last night, which is confirmed by Finnick after he meticulously counts each one, and tells them that there’s twenty-four of them.

They begin to divide the bread, you turn away, not wanting to be included. You would eat, if it meant that you didn’t have to sit in a group with them. Namely Finnick, who’s kept a close eye on you since last night. Especially since you refused to lay down with the others, choosing to pace the treeline.

You would’ve offered to take Peeta’s spot behind Finnick to take watch, but you’re not really interested in being in close proximity with Finnick. It’s partly the embarrassment, and there’s also the fact that he was lying to you. You saw the look on his face, you heard it in his voice. He fed you bullshit.

And now he must be waiting for you to make your escape. It’s not going to happen, though. You made a commitment, you have a plan, and you have the full intention to execute it tonight. After all, it’s the third day. All you have to do is make it fourteen more hours, and you’ll be free of this arena.

“(Y/n), do you want your bread?” Johanna asks.

“No, I’m fine.” You tell her without moving.

They spend the next few minutes eating, before Katniss takes Peeta into the water to teach him how to swim. You back away, heading to lurk along the treeline of the jungle again. It’s close to where Johanna and Finnick are, as they try to stay occupied. Johanna’s keeping her eyes on the two in the water to ensure that they’re not getting up to no good, while Finnick begins to weave himself another net.

“You said you had a plan last night.” Johanna says, looking over her shoulder at you. “Are you ever going to let us in on it?”

“The Careers are probably watching our every move, waiting for the right moment to attack.” You tell them, a conclusion they’ve likely already come to, themselves. “They won’t do it until we’ve split up.”

Finnicks hands have paused, waiting for you to suggest that you should go off alone to attack them.

“They’re outnumbered if we stay together.” Johanna says.

“Right.” You say, “We all know Katniss, though. She’s not going to want to be in this alliance much longer. She’ll probably stay until the Careers are dead, because that just leaves us.”

Johanna’s nodding, following along.

“I say that we kill them tonight, at midnight.” You stab the sword into the grass, leaving it there when it sticks. You move to stand in front of them in the sand, hands on your hips. “And we do it Beetee-style. We can electrocute them on the beach, assuming that they come out here to refresh when we go into the jungle for the night.”

“How?” Finnick asks, you look him over.

“The sun goes down, making it slightly cooler. The wave will hit at ten, making the beach wet. All we’ll have to do is wrap the wire around the lightning tree, and get two people to walk the wire down to the beach to bury the spool before the lightning hits.” You hold up two fingers, “This causes the group to split two to three, and by then, Enobaria and Brutus will be on us like flies to honey. And that’s when I’ll split away to kill them before they can do any real damage.”

“So, really, whoever has the wire will act as bait?” Johanna asks, face twisted. “And what makes you think you can take out two Careers?”

You half-shrug, “Because I’ve done it before. If you got any better ideas, I’m all ears.”

She shakes her head, “I don’t. It sounds like it’ll work out fine.”

When you both turn your attention to Finnick, you find that he’s nodding, eyes on the sand.

“Well, if we’re in agreement, then we can tell those two,” You jerk your head towards the water, “Later. We can’t do anything until the wave hits, anyway.”

When neither of them say anything else, you go back to where your sword is, pulling it out of the mushy dirt. There’s a deep slice from where you’d stabbed it. As you’re about to wander away, Johanna says something about her going back to sleep in the meantime, since she didn’t get much sleep last night.

Finnick continues weaving his net out of the jungle vines. You watch his progress between glances each time you turn to move the other way. You could probably just stand here, staring into the jungle, but you said so yourself last night—the Careers aren’t going to attack until nightfall, when they’ve got cover.

However, there’s always a chance that you’re wrong, and they decide that they’d rather take the five of you head-on. This is why you refuse to rest. If they get the jump on you, you won’t be able to keep yourself together any longer. You’ll chase after them, and they’ll end up dead before midnight.

“Hey, Finnick, come on in!” Katniss suddenly calls. You pause long enough to see her waving. “We figured out how to make you pretty again!”

Finnick ties off the net, which looks like it’s pretty much done, anyway. He leaves his trident behind, going over to see what they mean. From what you can tell, they’re taking handfuls of wet sand to rub against the scabs that are peeling from their skin. You would need to do the same, if you hadn’t been picking at them all last night.

When they’re done, they come out of the water to apply another round of ointment. Katniss offers the tube to you, which you take gratefully. After a small squeeze on your hand, you rub it along the places where you’ve been affected. For the most part, you were able to say ahead of the fog, even when you were helping Finnick carry Peeta.

“I’ve come up with a plan.” You tell Katniss and Peeta once they’ve settled in the sand. “I already told Finnick and Johanna about it while you were in the water.”

Katniss places the bow in her lap, fingers pinching the string. “And they liked it?”

“Enough.” You say. “There’s only two threats left in the arena, and that’s Enobaria and Brutus. So, we need to take them out. Except, we can’t hunt them down because they could be anywhere, and it’d take all day.”

“Do you think they’ve figured out the clock?” Katniss asks.

“If they haven’t, they will soon.” Finnick says.

“I want to set a trap tonight.” You dig the toes of your left shoe into the sand. “Enobaria and Brutus won’t attack again until it’s dark out and they have cover, that’s a fact. Which means they’re not going to come out here, onto the beach, until they’re sure we’re done.”

“You want to stay in the jungle tonight?” Peeta asks, “That’s dangerous, how will we know what sections we’re in?”

“That’s not what I’m saying.” You shake your head. “What I want to do is kill them when they step foot on the beach. And the only way to do that is with this wire.” You point at it.

Katniss’s face twists.

“The wave hits at ten, making the surrounding beach damp. If we connect this wire to the lightning tree and bring it all the way down to the beach—or even into the water—that first strike will electrocute anything in contact with the sand. It’ll kill them.”

It’s quiet between the four of you, as they mull this over. You can see that Finnick is looking at you, but you keep your eyes on the Twelve tributes. They need to agree to this plan, in order for you to move on and worry about greater things. Like how you’re going to take down Enobaria and Brutus at the same time. Or if you’ll be able to split them up, too.

Peeta’s mouth pops when he opens it to speak. “How do we know that the wire won’t just burn up when the electricity passes through it.”

“It likely will.” You say, “We probably only have one shot at this.”

“So there’s a possibility that we won’t even get them?”

Finnick sighs, “Yeah.”

“But all the seafood will be cooked.” Peeta says.

You nod, “It will, but we found other things in the jungle.”

“Nuts and rats.” Katniss says, you think you’ve got her on board. “And we have sponsors.”

“It’ll be a pain if we fail.” You tell them, “There’s always other options, after this.”

Katniss meets your eyes. “Why not? If it does fail, there’s no harm done. If it works, there’s a decent chance we’ll kill them. And even if we don’t and just kill the seafood, Brutus and Enobaria lose it as a food source, too.”

“I say we try it.” Peeta agrees.

When you’ve lost the attention of the Twelve tributes, you look at Finnick, giving him a smug look. You told him that you’d figure out a plan, and it’s not half-bad either. You’re sure Beetee would’ve said the exact same thing, just with more technical nonsense. You make a pretty good filler, if you say so yourself.

“What should we do until then?” Peeta asks.

“We could take a hike up to the tree to get a look at it.” You suggest, but you’re thinking about surveying the area on the way up. The better you know the jungle, the more you’ll be able to sneak around in it.

“I’ll get Johanna up.” Finnick says.

You back off, Katniss and Peeta gather their belongings, getting on their feet. Finnick catches Johanna up to speed, telling her that the plan is on, and you want to go take a look at the tree. She sighs, getting up from where she was laying.

You pick the wire out of the sand, throwing it over your shoulder to hold while you walk. You move over a couple sections, and Johanna makes the way into the jungle first. You follow after her, not wanting to have a debate with Finnick on whether or not you’re allowed to be behind them.

The air is thicker in the jungle than it is on the beach. It must have something to do with the vegetation, or possibly a hidden water source, making it humid. Between the incline and the heat, you’re sweating in a matter of minutes. Even though all you’re wearing is the undershirt and shorts that were provided with the wetsuit that you abandoned yesterday.

You focus on your breathing, and the steps you’re taking to keep from tripping. Not the fact that Finnick is close enough for you to hear his breathing. You wish he would stay a few steps back, so you can pretend that he’s not there entirely.

As if he’s reading your thoughts, he says, “Can you walk faster?”

“Maybe you should be in front of me if you don’t like my pace.” You snap.

“That’s not happening.”

“Then shut up and deal with it. And stop walking so close, while you’re at it.”

He makes a noise, “There’s three feet between us, that’s plenty.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you think so.” You mutter.

He must hear you, because he doesn’t walk for a couple of seconds, letting the distance grow. You laugh, unbelievable. This is why you don’t believe what he said to you last night. He can deny what you said as much as he wants, but a part of it has to be true.

However, the more he denies it, the more you feel yourself slipping. Why do you like him in the first place?

“Katniss should take the lead, Johanna. She can hear the forcefield.” Finnick calls from behind you.

Johanna pauses, turning around for you to see her. There’s a bead of sweat running down the side of her face. “Hear it?”

“Only with the ear the Capitol reconstructed.” Katniss says below.

“Go ahead, then. I’d rather you get electrocuted to death than me.” She motions.

Katniss passes the line, taking the front. When you glance behind you to see who’s taking up the rear, you see that Finnick and Peeta have switched places. Which makes sense, but you still shake your head.

Katniss brings you to the towering lightning tree, making you wait a few feet back while she gathers nuts to throw ahead to see how far away the forcefield is. She tosses a few of them, and you know when she’s found the field when it sizzles on impact, jumping at her.

“Just stay below the lightning tree.” Katniss tells you.

With it being only nine—almost ten—it’s quickly decided that you’ll stay here for the next hour or so. They divide responsibilities between each other, leaving you out so you can figure out the tree and how the plan will work. Naturally, they stick Finnick with you, while Johanna taps for water, Peeta gathers nuts and Katniss goes hunting for the tree rats.

You go back and forth, looking at the tree, guessing how far around it is, and then looking at the wire, thinking about how much you’ll have to use. There’s easily miles of the wire wrapped around the base, so you’re not worried about running out of it. It’s how thick you need to make it on the tree.

You make a noise, biting the inside of your cheek. This is where Betee would come in handy. You can make a plan, but executing it correctly is a different subject. Either way, you need to make this work.

“You can’t figure it out.” Finnick says, it’s not a question.

“I’m thinking about how much wire I need to use.” You eye him, “It’s figured out.”

And if it isn’t, it will be by tonight, you think.

The ground begins to shake beneath you, as the sound of the wave crashing through trees fills the momentary silence. You have an hour and a half before you need to get back down to the beach in order not to get caught here in a lightning storm.

Katniss comes crunching out of the trees, holding three of the rats in one hand, the bow in the other. She stops next to Peeta, dropping the animals next to him, and then draws a line in the dirt a few feet away from the forcefield.

She cleans the kills, cubing the meat, and roasting them by tossing them at the forcefield. She catches each one in a free basket that was made by Finnick yesterday. Peeta follows her movements with the nuts, dropping it in the same bowl as her.

“Figure it out?” Johanna asks you, setting the water on the ground behind Katniss. She holds the spile out between her fingers in Katniss’s direction.

Katniss reaches up to take it, and secures it on the vine attached to her belt.

“Pretty much.”

By the time Katniss and Peeta are done, the next hour is up. You know this when the clicking in the section over rises. You heard some of it last night, but it wasn’t very loud because you were on the beach. Here, it sounds so close.

“I think it’s an insect.” Katniss says. “Maybe beetles.”

“Something with pincers.” Finnick adds.

The sound swells in reaction to their voices.

“We should get out of here, anyway.” Johanna says. “There’s less than an hour before the lightning starts.”

At that, the food and water are gathered, as well as weapons. You don’t go very far, only to the rain wedge next door. The food and water is placed on the ground, where you squat around the bowls to pick out what you want. This is when you finally eat, because it looks fairly appetizing. Still, you don’t take much from the pool, only enough to be full.

When you’re done, you make your way back down to the beach until nightfall. The sand is smooth from the water, sinking under your weight, leaving footprints behind.

Johanna offers to take watch to allow the rest of you to sleep if you want to. They take her up on the offer, but you sit up, fingers laced in front of you. None of them nap for very long, because they’d gotten a fair amount of sleep last night. The only person it would benefit at this point is you, except you haven’t been tired since yesterday afternoon.

Well, that’s what you think until Finnick switches off with her. He lowers himself next to you, back to the water, eyes on the jungle. He’s less than a foot away from you, off to your left. For someone that doesn’t like you, he really sticks close, doesn’t he?

“I’m going to sleep.” You mutter, getting to your feet.

You find a nice place in the sand that’s covered by a tree in the jungle. It’s not easy settling in, you think that you’d rather fight with a rock-hard bed, but you don’t really have a choice. You close your eyes, forcing yourself to take even breaths to relax, feeling the drowsiness creep up on you.

–

The heel of your shoe is kicked, jolting you awake. You grab the knife that you’d placed next to you, rolling over to see who it is. It’s Finnick, he’s holding his trident in one of his hands.

“We’re about to clean the seafood, come join us.”

You squint at him, wondering if you should strangle him for waking you up like this. It wouldn’t be that hard to, and you’d likely get over him quicker. And you would probably do it, too, if it weren’t for your allies a few feet over, talking.

“Sure.” You say, he walks away, going to resume his place in the circle. You sit up, heels of your hands massaging your temples. You should’ve just stayed awake, now all you are is tired and irritated.

You scoot over, finding a place between Johanna and Finnick. You look over all of what they’ve collected, which is fish, shellfish and oysters. You sigh through your nose, reaching forward to grab a fish, as you begin to slice into it with your knife. It takes you about two minutes to successfully clean it, tossing it in the next basket.

Peeta pries open an oyster, laughing slightly. “Hey, look at this!” He exclaims. You look up from your next fish to see that he’s holding up a pearl. “You know, if you put enough pressure on coal it turns to pearls.”

“No, it doesn’t.” Finnick says. Katniss laughs.

Peeta rinses the pearl off in the water, handing it to her. “For you.”

“Thanks.” She says, closing her hand.

You toss another fish in the basket, Johanna gives you a look. “No wonder why Finnick woke you up, you’re faster than he is.”

Finnick gives Johanna a glare, “That’s not true.”

“I don’t want to make this a competition.” You tell both of them. “I’m not in the mood.”

“I can see that.” Johanna says, “Bad dreams?”

“I just want to get the fuck out of here.” You make a clean cut through the fish, looking at her.

She sighs, “Don’t we all?”

“The locket didn’t work, did it?” Peeta asks. “Katniss?”

“It worked.” She says.

“But not the way I wanted.” He says, looking away from her. That’s the last thing you hear from him for the next fifteen minutes.

With your help, they finish preparing the food pretty quickly. They give the seafood a final wash to get rid of any of the sand, and right as you’re about to eat, a parachute comes down from the sky, landing next to Finnick. The first one is a pot of red sauce, the second one being another set of District Three rolls. When counted, the number turns out to be the same as it’s been the last couple of times.

You take a strip of the fish, dipping it into the red sauce, and then dropping it into your mouth. The moment your tongue realizes that it’s tasting more than just raw fish, your mouth begins to water. It’s spicy, and so good. You hum, giving the others an approving nod.

The five of you begin to eat, actually enjoying the meal. While they gorge themselves, you take it slow, not wanting to be too full for when you fight the Careers. It’ll slow you down. When they’re done, there’s still a lot of leftovers, but you’re not able to keep them. They toss the food back into the water, so that when you leave, the Careers won’t be able to have it.

Katniss and Peeta go to sit by the water together, holding hands. You, Finnick and Johanna stay where you are, passing around the water shell. There’s still a couple of hours until the wave, you could probably an hour or so in, but if you try to get any more sleep today, you won’t get up the next time they try to wake you.

The anthem plays, no faces show up in the sky. The sun has officially set, and you can’t sit still any longer. You get to your feet, sword in your hand while you go back to pacing the treeline.

When Katniss and Finnick agree that it’s about nine, you move on from the beach, taking only what’s necessary. Katniss leads the way this time, Peeta in front of you, with Finnick and Johanna at the very end. This time, Finnick leaves a safe distance between the two of you, learning from his mistake.

When you get to the tree, Finnick is assigned to help you. And before you can object and ask for Johanna, they’re already walking away to find their places to watch the trees. You stick your sword in the ground, and then crouch down to begin unrolling the wire. You set several yards aside, making Finnick wrap some of it around a broken tree branch, which you leave aside.

After that, you and Finnick stand on opposite sides of the lightning tree, passing the spool back and forth. You form an X, watching as it grows thicker, before you begin to wrap it around the middle. This goes on for about an hour, until you hear the wave begin. You wait for a while longer, and decide to stop once it’s thick enough.

When Finnick hands the wire back to you, you clear your throat. “The wire needs to be brought back down to the water.” The three taking watch turn to look at you, waiting. “Katniss and Johanna will do it.”

“I want to go with them as a guard.” Peeta says immediately.

“You don’t move fast enough.” You tell him. “Which is a result of you hitting the forcefield and your prosthetic leg. You’ll stay here with me and Finnick. Katniss can guard, because she’s got her bow.” Peeta’s shaking his head. “We don’t have time to argue, they need to leave, now.”

“It’s okay.” Katniss says after a moment. “We’ll just drop the coil and come straight back up.”

“Not here, we’ll meet you two in the next section over.” You remind her.

She cups Peeta’s face. “Don’t worry. I’ll see you at midnight.” She kisses him, you avert your eyes, and land on Finnick, who’s staring. You squint at him. Katniss moves away, “Ready?”

“Why not?” Johanna shrugs, coming over to take the wire from you. “You guard, I’ll unwind. We can trade off later.”

Katniss walks off first, with Johanna following. You keep a careful eye on the sliver of wire that hangs through the air as they go down. If you try to pass through that area, you need to be mindful that it’s there.

You grab your sword out of the ground, while Finnick divides the area into three sections for you to stand in. You’ll give it about fifteen minutes before you take off with some sort of excuse, because there’s not a single doubt in your mind that the Careers are out here right now.

Over the fifteen minute period, you shift your weight from foot to foot, trying to make it seem like you have to use the bathroom, restlessly moving around. You let out a loud sigh, “I’m sorry, I have to pee. I’ll be right back.”

“That’s not a good idea.” Peeta tells you, “Finnick should go with.”

“He’s not standing over me while I pee, and you’re not either. I’ll stay within earshot.” You say, looking at Finnick. You raise your eyebrows, Finnick gives you a slight nod. He better keep Peeta distracted enough to the point where he doesn’t realize how long you’ve been gone.

You duck under the wire, heading into the trees with your sword. You walk a few feet, occasionally glancing behind you to make sure that neither of them are looking, before you make your escape. The wire is close enough for you to see it, still suspended in the air.

You move quickly down the slope without having to wait on anyone, searching the area ahead for anyone. Katniss and Johanna have got to be more than halfway down by now, it’s going to take you a minute to catch up with them. But if Enobaria and Brutus are smart, they won’t stick that close, because Katniss is paranoid.

The sound of rocks rolling on one another makes you stop behind the tree you’re passing by. It came from the left, from the other side. You lower yourself to the ground, peering around the trunk and through bush leaves to see if it’s them.

You find Enobaria creeping out of her hiding place, knife in hand, blade glinting in the moonlight. With a swift motion, she cuts the wire, sending both ends in different directions. She chases after the end going down to Katniss and Johanna, and that’s when you can see Brutus, following after her.

He’s limping. This will be easy.

You stalk them, trying to be quiet. The wire is gone, completely out of sight. It’s probably already bunched up at the bottom. Which means that they know that something—someone—has come between them and the lightning tree. And vice versa for the top of the hill, where Peeta and Finnick are going to realize that the girls are in some danger.

You were wrong about how far down Katniss and Johanna were, because you come across the coil of wire a minute later. Katniss is laying on the ground, eyes shut, forearm cut where the tracker should be.

“She’s as good as dead! Come on, Enobaria!” You hear someone shout.

Your head whips in the direction, forgetting about Katniss. She’ll pick herself up soon, and if she doesn’t, someone will come for her. You pick up the pace to follow after the heavy footsteps. They have to be targeting Johanna, because she’s nowhere to be seen in the area. She’s drawing them away, taking the focus off of the girl who scored a twelve.

You see Brutus moving through the trees, trying to keep up. You switch the sword into your non-dominant hand, grabbing out a knife. You draw your arm back, and with every ounce of strength you have, you send the knife flying at Brutus.

It hits the back of his head, a cannon blasts immediately, his body falling into the greenery. If it wasn’t a frenzy before, it will be now that someone has died.

Enobaria, who was a few feet ahead of him, stops in her tracks, turning to look at you. You walk toward her, a smile spreading over your face. “Hi.”

“You’ll regret that.” She snarls, throwing a knife at you.

You see this coming, twisting just in time for it to miss you. She charges forward, you switch the sword into your dominant hand, swinging at her. She blocks, blade clashing against yours, the sound of metal sliding on itself fills the air.

“Stupid plan you made.” She says between breaths, baring her teeth.

“You fell for it.” You grin, sweeping her legs.

She falls, you stab down at her, she rolls out of the way. She doesn’t have time to stand up, you’re swinging at her, getting closer each time.

“(Y/n)!” A voice calls, you halt, just for a second, eyebrows twitching in.

Finnick.

“Playing house?” Enobaria sneers, right before she swings at your hand.

You drop the sword, but still get cut across the back of your hand, up to your wrist. The blood begins to leak out, making your skin slippery. You hiss, reaching for your knife when Enobaria gets to her feet, coming for you.

She gets you several times across your body, you’re off beat by a second. You’re not thinking about the fight anymore. Your mind is on Finnick, who’s supposed to be watching Peeta at the lightning tree, but instead he’s out here, looking for you.

He knew the plan, he knew you’d go after the Careers, that was the whole point of splitting up. The sooner you get rid of them, the better. There won’t be a threat in the arena anymore. You’ll be able to cut out the trackers in your arm freely and wait for the rebels to get you. You could even let Katniss and Peeta in on it, because by then it’ll be too late for the Capitol to intervene.

Enobaria steps too close, snapping you out of your thoughts. You grab her shoulder, holding her in place while you slam the knife upward, into her stomach. You stare at her, watching as her mouth drops open, struggling to take a breath in.

“How the mighty fall.” You murmur.

Her eyes meet yours, “Go fuck yourself.” She wheezes. “You’re next.”

“We’ll see about that.” You tell her, pushing her back.

She stumbles a few steps, you drop low to pick your sword out of the grass. She’s shaking her head, a plea forming on her lips, when she jerks forward, and she falls to her knees.

Johanna stands on the other side, her axe now embedded in the back of Enobaria’s skull. She gives you a little smile, “You killed Brutus?”

“It was easy.” You tell her. “We should get back to the tree. The lightnings going to strike any minute now, the beetles are getting quieter.”

Johanna nods, you begin to lead the way, climbing as fast as you can. It’s difficult with the cuts that Enobaria managed to land. They’re in the most inconvenient places, as if she was doing it on purpose. Maybe she thought you’d run, and this way she’d slow you down.

“Katniss!” You hear a voice call, it sounds like Peeta. He’s not supposed to be out here, Finnick should’ve had him on a leash. “Katniss!”

“Is Chaff still alive?” You pant, “There’s only been two cannons, right?”

“Yeah, he should be.” Johanna says.

You’re just nearing the top, the clicking is practically nonexistent, until it suddenly swells. Your eyes pan down, afraid that you’ve stepped into the wrong territory, but there’s nothing on the ground. That’s when a scream erupts from your left, drawing out for a minute.

And then a cannon goes off, there goes Chaff.

You turn, wanting to make sure that Johanna’s still following. She’s leaned over her knees, breathing deeply.

“Katniss!” Peeta’s voice is close. You look up, and barely find him through the trees. He must see you, too, because he starts to come down. His eyes are bouncing between you and Johanna. “Where is she?”

“I don’t know.” You shake your head. “Is she at the tree? And where’s Finnick?”

“Johanna?” Peeta insists, ignoring you.

“The Careers split us up.” She lies, “I had to draw them away.”

“Is that who died?” He asks.

“Brutus, Enobaria and Chaff were the cannons.” You tell him. “Let’s get back to the tree to regroup.”

He nods, Johanna stands up. The three of you are beginning up the slope once more, when the dome of the arena bursts into a blue light. You watch as the first fiery explosion breaks it, throwing bits of debris into the air.

“Shit.” You say, “That’s not good.”

The hike up the jungle is torturous enough in the heat that’s provided by the Gamemakers. It grows worse when the trees surrounding you are suddenly set afire by the bits that land on the ground, causing small earthquakes. Several times, you have to hang on to a tree to keep from falling over, as the dome falls apart.

You keep an eye on the growing hole, and the sky beyond it, waiting. You watch as the hovercraft materializes out of thin air, above the lightning tree. A second later, the claw is being dropped to retrieve those who are by it. You’re hoping it’s Katniss, because that was the whole goal of this plan. Anyone else was just an added bonus.

It secures around someone, and pulls them out of the trees. You’re not that far, you might even be able to make it. The claw drops a second time, for one more person, pulling them up. It’s hard to see the hovercraft through the thick branches and leaves.

You’ve about five yards from the lightning tree when the hovercraft disappears in the air. Your pace slows, as you let out a breath. When you look at Johanna, you find her shaking her head.

“There goes being saved.”

“What?” Peeta asks, looking between you two.

“I’m sorry, Peeta.” You say, locking your fingers and placing your hands on the top of your head. “The good news is that you got what you wanted.”

“What do you mean?” He asks.

“She’s safe.” Is all you say.

You don’t bother telling him that the three of you are screwed. While Katniss and presumably Finnick, get to go to District Thirteen, where they’ll be safe. You’re going to be taken by the Capitol, and there’s not a doubt in your mind that they’ll try to tear you apart to get information about the rebels.

This is where the real test of strength begins.

—

A knock on the window makes you look up from where you’re staring at the IV in your arm. Your eyes land on Finnick, who’s not standing at his full height, playing with a small piece of rope in his hand. There’s a slight frown in his lips, eyes tired. He’s been visiting you these last couple of days, and you’ve been doing your best to avoid him.

Usually, you have a visitor in here, which makes it easy to cast him out, but you’re alone tonight. Johanna’s finally grown tired of bothering you for hours on end, talking your ear off. It’s been a one-sided conversation these past couple of weeks while your throat healed.

Recently, the doctor cleared you.

You stare at Finnick, really not wanting to let him in. He’s no doubt heard the news, too. Which means that he’s looking to actually talk to you. You take a small breath in, chest aching. You rub the area over where the pain is, lifting your other hand to motion Finnick in.

He opens the door slowly, closing it behind him. He doesn’t say anything as he grabs the chair from the corner of the room, dragging it next to your hospital bed. You watch him sit down, elbows on his knees, eyes on the floor.

You thought that since Katniss and Finnick were saved by the rebels, they’d be in better condition than you, Johanna and Peeta are. It seems to be the other way around, though. Despite Snow having you strangled and deprived of oxygen for as long as humanly possible without doing major brain damage, and Johanna being repeatedly electrocuted in water, the two of you are relatively normal. You wish you could say the same for Peeta, but he’s up in the air right now. They won’t even let you see him, although you’re not sure what that would do exactly.

Finnick has been torn apart, like being in District Thirteen is a form of torture, in of itself. The light in his eyes is gone, voice quiet, “Mags told me about the ultimatum that Snow gave you.”

“Huh?” You let out.

Finnick looks up from the tile. “After the jabberjays, you asked me what changed.” He reaches over, placing his hand on top of yours. He’s warm. “It was before that. When Mags told me that you’d agreed…” He trails off, “You’d agreed to be a prostitute if it meant my family lived.”

You try to shake his hand off. “Whatever.”

He grabs on with both hands, squeezing your fingers. “She told me that you would volunteer to take some of my nights in the Capitol, because you saw how tired I was.”

“Get off me.” You murmur.

“My family was in the Capitol and you protected them,” His voice wavers, you get sent back to that night in the jungle. When he denied the fact that he had feelings for you. “Again. You protected them again. You let Snow do this to you.”

“It was the right thing to do.” You shake your head.

“I heard you talking the day of the reaping.” He breathes. “How you told Mags that you wouldn’t let her volunteer because you know how much she means to me. You said that you’d rather risk your life and go back in the arena than put her in danger.”

“Anyone would’ve done that.” You tell him, impatient.

“Annie couldn’t. Librae wasn’t going to. I was sure you weren’t, either.”

You sigh, “Will you just leave me alone?”

“I was wrong about several things.” Finnick stands from the chair, letting go of your hands to reach for your face. His thumbs running over the skin beneath your eyes. “I do care about you.”

“No, you don’t.” You push his arms.

“Listen to me.” Finnick says, his face is so close to yours. You can feel the warmth of his breath tickling your nose. “I was looking for you during the jabberjays, I was looking for you the night the dome went down, and I haven’t been able to breathe since you were taken.” He closes his eyes. “I care.”

“I know.” You breathe, “I know you do.”

#ilguna #finnick odair #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair oneshot #finnick odair fanfic #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair x you #finnick odair x yn #finnick odair x y/n #finnick imagine #finnick fanfic #finnick x reader #finnick oneshot #finnick x you #finnick x yn #finnick x y/n #thg #the hunger games #angst

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decaying-enigma · 2 months

Text

[Space Core AU]

Danny could see it all.

Where the darkness meets the dance of light, a swirling canvas of stardust and celestial wonders—a symphony of colors, shapes, and energies unfurling across the infinite reaches of space.

Their radiant glow casting an aura that just beckoned him to join.

Cosmic tendrils weaved a labyrinth of star clusters, and stellar nurseries gave birth to new stars.

Nebulae shimmered with ethereal beauty, their wispy tendrils reaching out across the void like ghostly fingers.

Supernovae unleashed titanic explosions, scattering the remnants of dying stars across the cosmos in a dazzling fireworks display of light and energy.

Danny could almost feel it wash over his skin.

Black holes lurked in the depths of space, their gravitational pull so intense that not even light could escape their grasp.

Dark matter, the invisible scaffolding of the universe, weaves its enigmatic web throughout the galaxy.

He could hear the countless echoes, all worming their way into his being and, for a moment, pulling him closer and closer to...

""Danny!""

He fell back into his seat instantly, two arms holding him down, as Earth's gravity once again took hold of him.

Blinking rapidly, Danny shook his head, visions of stars and nebulae sliding away.

Yet not completely leaving his mind.

It took him a moment to remember where he was as he turned to Tucker and Sam.

They sat on either side of him, both having a firm grip on him with deeply concerned expressions on their faces.

They were all outside, at a table nestled in the corner of the (thankfully empty) park, and had been in the middle of eating lunch from a new cafe that Sam had wanted to try.

Or, at least, that had been the plan before he decided that gravity was just a suggestion.

"You okay, dude?" Tucker asked, a hand still holding onto him.

"I'm fine," Danny replied immediately.

But judging by the identical unimpressed looks on Sam and Tucker's faces, neither believe him in the slightest.

And rightfully so.

Though they did let go of him, trusting he wasn't about to start floating away again, they were ready to react if it happened again.

Danny sighed.

"I just got distracted for a second."

"You were floating away." Sam pointed it out, making little wiggly movements with her fingers. "Plus, your eyes were doing that weird galaxy thing again.

"That was just some dust," he lied half-halfheartedly.

She raised an unimpressed eyebrow, not buying that for a moment. "Yeah right. If we hadn't pulled you back down, you would probably already be out of the atmosphere by now."

"I would've noticed," Danny murmured, his eyes shifting to the side. "...eventually."

Sam huffed in frustration. "So not the point I was trying to make."

"They are super weird, though," Tucker agreed, then took a bite of his giant BLT sandwich. "But still cool, in the way they turn into terrifying black-holes that they look like the endless and cruel vacuum of space."

Danny stared at Tucker flatly.

"That makes me feel so much better."

"No problem!"

There was a brief silence, only for Tucker to put his sandwich back down, showing just how serious he was, and ask.

"But seriously, dude, are you alright?"

Danny looked down at the table, wanting to ignore his friends admittedly reasonable concerns, and absently twirled the straw of his ice tea.

But, eventually, he gave in.

"I already stopped by the Far Frozen to talk with Frostbite," he finally admitted. "Even ran into Clockwork, who was feeling strangely non-cryptic, and asked him about what was going on."

"So, what'd you find out?" Sam questioned, leaning forward, eager to hear what he had to say.

Danny snorted, an impish grin growing on his face. "Apparently, I don't actually have an ice core."

They both blinked in surprise.

The fact that Danny's core, practically the ghostly equivalent of a soul and a fundamental part of their being, wasn't ice this whole time and was actually something different was... a pretty big deal.

Sam asked, both curious and concerned, "So, what core do you have?"

"Frostbite called it a space core, or, as Clockwork referred to it, a piece of the Void." Danny rolled his eyes. "I'm like, 70% sure, he only called it that to be extra dramatic."

"So the ice powers were just...what? The first side effect before the weird eyes and the 'spacing' out?" Tucker joked with a grin.

Danny chuckled at the pun, while Sam groaned.

"Basically."

"Do you know what powers you are supposed to expect?" Sam asked, hoping they would catch a break this time.

"Not a clue," Danny said, shooting that hope down immediately.

Tucker raised an eyebrow. "Isn't there someone in the Ghost Zone you could ask?"

"It's, like, super rare; I mean, the only other ghost I know with the same core is Nocturn," he explained with an annoyed huff.

They both winced.

Despite not currently being antagonistic with the Ghost of Dreams, Danny and Nocturn's relationship wasn't anywhere close to friendly, even by ghostly standards.

And considering most ghosts could beat each other up, possibly even dismember one another, and still be willing to hang out later, that's saying something.

Danny sighed. "Yeah, I basically had the same reaction."

"Are you sure there's no one else?" Sam pushed, looking for a solution.

"Ghost Zone's a big place and leads to a lot of others, so probably." He shrugged. "But, even if Nocturn or someone else was willing to give me advice, it wouldn't help very much."

Seeing the confusion on their faces, he continued to explain.

"Frostbite gave me a whole lecture about it, but it basically boils down to the fact that, unlike most core elements, space cores express themselves so differently that there's no real set of powers that they share."

Sam slowly nodded, understanding showing on her face.

"So, while one ghost with a space core might be able to make black-holes, another might control gravity or even create stars," she continued, a hint of wonder in her voice.

Danny nodded his head in agreement.

"Hey, for all we know, you might get the power to twinkle really, really brightly instead." Tucker snickered loudly, with Sam quickly following.

Danny dropped his head onto the table, not sharing his friend's amusement in the slightest.

The snickers soon died off, as Danny continued to mope.

"It's probably not that bad." Tucker pointed this out. "You already learned to control the ice part of your powers; you'll figure this part out eventually."

"And we'll be right there when you do," Sam added, fully believing they would find the answer eventually.

"Hopefully not too close. Frostbite mentioned a few...unexpected stabbings the first time around," Tucker muttered under his breath, wincing as Sam punched him in the shoulder.

Danny rolled his eyes.

He wished that he shared his friends confidence in his abilities, but he was nevertheless grateful for the support his two best friends were giving him.

Thankfully, the conversation soon changed subjects from his potential new powers, moving on to talk about a homework assignment for school as they finished their lunch.

Danny made sure to pay attention this time, staying focused on the here and now.

Yet, even as he grinned from the sarcastic joke Sam had made, he could still feel the pull in the background.

He could hear the symphony of celestial bodies, the stars, the nebulae, and the infinite reaches of space in the back of his mind, all calling out to him.

Just waiting for the day that he would give in to the urge, and in the moment of weakness, join them forever and always until the end of time.

#dp #danny phantom #dp prompt #crossover #dpxdc #Space core #dp au #danny feton #tucker foley #sam mason

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luveline · 6 months

Note

hiiii jade! i absolutely adore your writing, and when i saw you might be taking blurb requests i had to jump on it lol

can i request maybe a little blurb where reader goes to pick up her bf remus at the airport after a long time apart/being long distance for several months?

i hope thats not too specific, and please feel free to ignore it if it doesn't inspire you!

thanks gorgeous!

You might have worried that a long separation would make things fall apart. Remus would want things you couldn't offer over the phone, or he'd find someone at his university that was more interesting, but one conversation kept you going, one confession.

If you can't do it, I won't go, he'd said.

You hadn't known what he meant at first, still mulling over the idea of his being away for so long. What?

It wasn't fathomable. It was everything he'd ever worked toward, the peak of his career, the culmination of all his successes. You honestly thought before he said it that you wouldn't have a choice. Either you had to make it work for you or he'd leave you to live his life.

But no. If it means we won't last, I won't go, he'd clarified, looking you in the eye, his lips hooked into one of his fond smiles. You're more to me than any of it. If we can't stretch the distance, I'll stay home. I'm happy to stay home.

Obviously, he had to go. But it's a lot to know you're loved like that, so deeply he'd give up everything he worked for just to keep you. You'd never make him choose, and hence began the longest, most heart-breaking five months of your life. Every time you were supposed to visit him plans fell through. Each time he tried to come back there were things to do. But you know he got on his plane home, and you're pretty sure you know which escalator he's going to come down. You wait at the bottom of it, waiting, waiting. You start to worry he's somewhere else.

"You come here often?" a warm voice asks from beside you.

You flinch. "That's not funny!" you hiss, but then you get a good look at him and have to fight to stave off tears. Remus stands next to you, suitcase to his left, backpack weighing down his shoulders. He looks tired, but excitement lightens his eyes.

Five months you will never, ever get back, and Remus is still so handsome.

"Dove," he says. You almost forgot how he says it, like it's yours alone to be called. "Lovely, come here."

You step into his arms: too much, too rough, almost chinning him as he grabs you. "Remus," you say in a gasp, startled as he bends back under your weight and your heels rise off of the floor. "Don't! Don't do that, I'm gonna crush you."

He sets you back down carefully, but he doesn't say much, and he certainly doesn't let you go. You don't notice his quiet at first. You're too busy being selfish, soaking in the realness of his arms, the rigidity of his biceps and his forearms wrapped around you.

"Was your flight okay?" you ask, tipping your head back.

"It was fine." A silver shine of tears nestles between his soft lashes. "It felt long."

"Don't cry," you say, again startled. "Remus, don't be upset. I'll start crying too and then we'll be that couple who cries on each other at the airport."

He smiles and a tear rolls down his cheek. "I missed you. What was I thinking? What was I," —he scrubs at his eyes roughly— "thinking, I could be away from you that long?"

You wipe his eyes much more gently. "I love you."

"I love you too," he says, leaning down for a kiss.

Your first kiss in five months has a lot to live upto. You'd been the one crying as you said goodbye at the airport, and Remus had left you with a kiss to remember, firm and sweet with his hands on either side of your face, as if to say, everything will be alright.

You have to do the reassuring now. You weave your fingers into the soft mop of his sandy brown hair, his gentle curls, brushing them away from his cheek as you kiss him. It's definitely too open of a kiss for a public place and you're both prone to shyness, so after a few stolen seconds of heat you break the kiss to hide your face in his collar.

"Please don't go away again."

Remus laughs and sniffles. "No. I don't think I'd survive it."

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x fem!reader #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #marauders era #remus x reader #remus x you #marauders #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin blurb #marauders x reader #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin fanfiction #the marauders

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ghostkennedy · 6 months

Text

Everybody's Gotta Die Sometime

~step brother Ghostface! Leon Kennedy x fem! Reader~

happy halloween to my ghostface leon fuckers. and to hopefully my new ghostface leon fucker recruits. <3 (shoutout to @lipglossanon for making me discover my love of stepcest. and shoutout to @delusionalbunni for requesting this. and everyone in the discord server for giving me ideas constantly)

Word count: 5419

Content warnings: DEAD DOVE DON'T FUCKING EAT IT, dubcon, noncon, dom leon, stepcest, kidnapping, drugging, bodily harm, wounds, cuts, blood, knife usage, serial killer, murders, stalking, pervert leon, discusses scenes from Scream, pet names, degradation, praise, dry humping, aggressive sex, finger sucking, slapping, ass slapping, daddy kink, baby trapping, forced impregnation, talk of body changes, talk of lactation, spitting, blood eating, BREEDING KINK, p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampie, and more dirty talk then you'll know what to do with

!!!!!!!MINORS DNI! GHOSTKENNEDY IS STRICTLY 18+!!!!!!!!

“Run, my pretty bunny,” he whispers in your ear before pushing you down into the mud. A yelp of pain escapes from your throat as you connect with the unforgiving ground. Blood is already running down your chest from where he cut you just moments ago. A little slice to show you just how serious he was. And if it weren’t for the adrenaline coursing through your veins, you’re sure it’d hurt like a bitch.

“By time I count to twenty, you better be out of my fucking sight.”

You push yourself up with all the strength you can muster and force yourself to move forward as he starts counting behind you. The drugs are still flowing through you, making your blood feel thick like honey. Your brain is enveloped in a dense fog that has you disorientated as you weave through the heavily wooded forest.

You know you don’t stand a chance; of course you don’t. But he wants to play this stupid game of cat and mouse, so you’ll play along; it’s probably the only way you’ll make it out of this alive.

Your legs are unsteady as you traverse the uneven terrain, using tree branches to keep yourself up on your feet.

Why you of all people?

The Ghostface copy-cat killer has been terrorizing this small town for months now and you’d never heard of him taking any of his victims to the woods to play “chase.” His murders have always been quick, spontaneous, and brutal. There had never been mentions of a second location.

You must be one lucky girl.

You remember walking home from work. Sure, it was late at night so it was pretty dark, but you didn’t have any other choice. Your boss asked you to stay late, and if you had any hope of being brought on full time, you couldn’t say no.

So you said yes and before you could make it home, someone was grabbing you from behind and holding a towel up over your nose and mouth. Then everything went black.

And then you woke up, tied up in the woods with a bag over your head. The bag was quickly yanked off and the first thing you saw was that fucking mask. The Ghostface mask.

You tried to fight him as best as you could, but you were far too weak, and he was far too strong. You never really stood a chance. You pleaded with him, begged him to let you go, but you were only met with anger.

You knew you were poking the bear when you told him he wouldn’t actually do anything. And when he sliced you open across your chest with his blade, you only really had yourself to blame. And when he told you to run, that he wanted to play with you, you weren’t in any position to fight him on it.

So now you’re running through the dark wooded area. You don’t have a fucking clue where you are, you don’t know where you’re headed, you don’t have a plan, and possibly the worst part? You don’t know where he is. You somehow preferred being in that small clearing with him taunting and tormenting you than being out here amongst the trees all alone, every little sound making you jump out of your skin.

How long have you been running through the woods? Time seems to be passing by so slowly as you put forth your best effort. You’re leaned up against a tree, clinging to the bark to keep from completely toppling over. You’re so lightheaded, your head spinning, you don’t know which way is up and which way is down as the world spins around you.

Your lungs ache from the overexertion, the only things you can focus on being the sound of your heart beat pounding in your ears and fighting back the vomit threatening to spill from your throat.

Your eyes roll into the back of your head, your arms too weak to keep hanging onto the tree. You feel yourself falling backwards, feel yourself fainting and not being able to do anything to stop it.

Before your body can connect with the ground, arms are wrapping around you just like they had before you passed out the first time. You groan out in pain as you’re laid gently on the forest floor.

Your head is still spinning, your eyes unable to focus as you hear a distant voice talking to you.

You slowly come back to yourself and when you do, you realize you’re looking up at Ghostface himself.

“Are you okay? Can you hear me?” He questions you. You try to answer him, but your words die in your throat. You’re still feeling too weak to even speak.

You look up at the moonlight breaking through the trees above you, thinking about how pretty of a view you get to witness while dying. You guess if you did have to choose, this is the sight you’d choose to experience while your body slowly gives up on itself.

You’re pulled from your thoughts when hands grasp your face firmly and pull you to look ahead of you. It takes a minute for you to fully process that Ghostface no longer has his mask on. And you’re sure you’ve died or are hallucinating as death pulls you under when you see the killer’s real face. And it’s not just any face, because that would be too simple. No, it’s one you recognize and one you recognize well.

You choke out words, them barely coming out above a whisper, “Leon? Is that you?”

His cocky, shit eating grin takes over his entire face. You don’t need him to respond anymore. That look is undeniably and so certainly Leon fucking Kennedy.

“In the flesh, baby sis,” he rubs his thumb across your cheek.

“Are you- you’re Ghostface? Like, the Ghostface?” You’re trying to process what’s happening, but it’s so fucking unreal. There has to be some other explanation.

“You’ve always been such a stupid girl.” He shakes his head as he fights back a smirk. “You never connected the dots? Never pieced it together for yourself?”

You stare up at him, giving up fighting your tears.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s you. All the random murders? Oh baby. They weren’t random,” he laughs with a look of disbelief on his face. “Let’s see. Your boyfriend? Couldn’t have him thinking what’s mine belongs to him. That girl that used to live in our neighborhood? She was always such a bitch to you.”

You search his face for any signs of what he’s getting at, but you don’t find any answers. “I don’t understand.”

“How about that barista who always had an attitude with you? Your old manager who made you uncomfortable and didn’t give a shit?”

All you can do is stare up at him. What does your old boss have to do with this? And what barista is he talking about? They’re all bitchy at the coffee shop near your place. If someone was ever nice to you there, you’d be worried about what’s wrong with the world.

“Oh! I know what’ll make you a happy little bunny! Any guesses?”

“I don’t suppose it’s you changing your mind and letting me go?”

Leon bursts out laughing at your response, “You’re so silly. No, baby. I found the lady who did that hit and run on your car. She was drunk off her ass that day and the day I found her. It amazes me how the police could never find her, yet it only took me two days. Now they’ll really never find her.”

He brings his face down to yours, until he’s barely a few inches away from you.

“You killed them?”

“Every one of them.”

“And what about the others?”

He reaches up and brushes a strand of hair out of your face. “Some were for practice, some were for fun.” He shrugs as if he isn’t admitting to a bunch of murders. “But if they were an inconvenience to us, they had to go.”

“None of them had to die, Leon.”

“Everybody dies, bunny. Better to be by my hand than some flesh eating disease, right?” The hand not caressing your face starts to slowly roam your body, his fingers gently running down your side.

“Please let me go. You don’t have to do this.”

You try to shake yourself beneath him, but he’s using all of his weight to pin you to the cold, muddy ground.

“Big brother just wants to take care of his little sis,” Leon coos at you, his fringe sticking to his forehead as the blood there slowly dries.

“You’re not my fucking brother, Leon. We haven’t seen each other since we were kids.” Your voice is mean, a complete contrast from the way you look. Covered in mud, tears, sweat, and blood. You can taste it on your lips.

He laughs down at you. “We haven’t? Baby. I see you all the time. I see you behind the counter at work. I see you at the grocery store when you need to pick up some milk and bread. I see you when you check your pockets for your wallet and keys before you go in the back door of your house.” He drags his knife down your neck, hard enough to sting but gentle enough to not break the skin. “I see you with your fingers buried deep in that tight cunt when you think no one is watching. I don’t just see it either, I hear it. I hear how loud and needy you are. It’s as if you’re subconsciously begging for big brother’s cock. Calling out for me to stuff this little pussy full, breed that tight hole until you can’t take it anymore. I see you everywhere you go baby, even in the privacy of your own bedroom.”

You can’t formulate a response, so you just stare up at him dumbfounded. You hope he’s bluffing–he has to be bluffing.

“So maybe you haven’t seen me since we were kids, but I see you all the time, sweet baby sis.”

“You’re lying. Anybody could say that vague shit.” You give him a dirty look as he presses the blade harshly against your skin. You hiss out at the stinging pain and cringe as you feel your warm blood ooze from the fresh wound.

“Oh? You don’t believe me?” You shake your head, further cutting yourself on the knife, yelping before stilling yourself once again. Quickly trying to correct your mistake.

“Hmm, let’s see,” he shifts his eyes as if deep in thought. “What about that step brother porn you’re always watching? Oh step bro, we can’t do this. Mom and Dad will catch us!” Your face heats at his words. “Or maybe when you shoved your hand in your panties while watching Scream? You came how many times? Do you remember, baby sis?”

You stumble over your words. “I-, um, well, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You give him a stern look, trying to emphasize your seriousness, but it’s useless.

His hand quickly wraps around your throat and squeezes. You struggle beneath him as your air is cut off, but he only squeezes tighter.

“Stay. Still!” He screams right in your face and you freeze in fear. You hold yourself as still as possible despite not being able to breathe.

“Remember when you came when Tatum got stuck in the garage door? Or maybe when Billy revealed he was Ghostface? Or when Billy and Stu were stabbing each other?”

“No,” you squeak out, barely able to speak with your constricted airway.

He squeezes even tighter, your face is on fire as you gasp and whine for air.

“Don’t fucking lie to me, you fucking brat.” He shakes your whole body with just the grip on your throat. “You gonna tell me the truth?” He yells out as your vision starts to blur from lack of oxygen.

He loosens his grip enough to allow some air to enter your lungs. “Tell me, god dammit!”

“Okay!” You choke out and he releases your throat. You desperately suck in air and cough from the ache in your throat. “Okay. It’s true, okay?”

“What’s true? Use your words, princess.”

“I fucking touched myself while watching a Ghostface movie! Is that what you wanted to hear? Wanted to hear me admit it even though you fucking saw it! I got off watching it, okay?”

More tears stream down your face, shame filling you after your confession. Speaking the words out loud makes it all the more real, all the more embarrassing.

How the fuck did you end up here? Exhausted in the mud beneath your ex step brother?

He sits back on his haunches and picks the mask up off the ground, quickly slipping it back on and adjusting it back into place. When his hand falls back to his side, you notice the blood smears left behind on his white mask. Your blood stains it.

“See something you like, princess?” Leon quirks his head to the side, his voice teasing. Your face immediately heats up from being caught staring. You hadn’t meant to be staring so long.

You avert your eyes, looking off into the trees and avoiding his mask completely.

“Why do you think I wear this fucking mask?” He spits out, aggressively grabbing your chin and making you look right into the empty eyes of the mask.

You whimper out and shake your head no. He lessens his grip on your chin in favor of running his thumb softly over your cheek.

“Oh, baby. It’s all for you. Don’t you see it? I killed them all for you, I chose this mask because it gets you all wet, and now?” He chuckles and brings his mouth up to your ear. He whispers as if he’s divulging you in some deep, dark secret, “Now, I’m gonna fuck you while wearing this mask. And you’re gonna fucking love it.”

Your jaw drops as your eyes nearly bulge out of your head. “Wha-what? No.”

“I wasn’t asking.”

He grinds his pelvis into your abdomen and that’s when you feel it. His hard cock pushes against you and it solidifies his claim. He’s really going to fuck you.

And you want to be disgusted, you want to scream and push him off, but you don’t say a word as you clench your thighs together. You had been so caught up in the chase, so caught up in putting up a fight that you didn’t stop and realize how fucking wet you are.

You cringe at the throbbing in your cunt. Your panties and thighs are soaked, you’re sure you’ve soaked all the way through your pants as well.

You want to explain it off. It’s just an adrenaline response, it’s out of your control. But as he continues to grind into you, you find your hips raising up and meeting his rhythm. Your lip is bleeding from how harshly you’re biting it, your hands curled into clenched fists.

“There she is. There’s my dirty fucking bunny. Knew you wouldn’t be able to help yourself, knew you needed your big brother’s cock.”

You whine at his words, his clothed crotch grinding into yours causing your panties to dig into your throbbing clit. The friction is so good, it has sweat beading down your back, but it just isn’t fucking enough. Not nearly enough.

“Leon,” your voice is high pitched and whiny. You lift your hands from beneath his thighs and reach out to cling to him, but he’s quick to grab your wrists in one of his hands and pin them above your head.

“None of that, baby sis. Use your words for me. What do you want?”

“Please,” you both continue rolling your hips together, finding an achingly perfect rhythm. If he keeps this up, keeps grinding into that spot that’s just right over and over, you’re gonna cum just like this.

He grinds into your clit particularly hard and it has your eyes rolling back, a pathetic moan falling from your lips and echoing out in the empty woods surrounding you.

“Please what, princess? If I don’t know what you want I can’t give it to you. And I’ll stop right now.”

“No!”

“Then use your fucking words, you dumb bunny,” He spits at you angrily. His muffled voice through the Ghostface mask sounds like sex itself. He could say anything to you right now and it would have you drooling for him.

“Wanna cum,” you whine out, toes curling in your shoes.

He slows his hips, just barely continuing to grind into you. “Not enough.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, I want you to fuck me. Please, fuck me. I need you inside of me.”

“See? Not so hard is it? You want big brothers cock stuffing this slutty pussy full?

You arch your back, pushing your body up into his in desperation. “Yes. Please, fuck. Need your cock.”

“Who’s cock?”

“Yours?”

“Nu uh, not good enough.”

You whine out, kicking your feet in frustration. “Big brother’s cock. I need my big brother’s cock inside of me. I wanna feel it.”

He sits back on his haunches, releasing your hands from his grasp. His hands go down to start undoing his belt as you reach out and palm his cock through his black jeans.

You gasp as you feel how fucking big he is.

Leon clicks his tongue as he releases his belt and slowly starts working the zipper on his jeans down, “What? Not what you were expecting?”

You whimper at his cocky tone, unable to speak. The only thing you can focus on is getting his cock inside of you.

“Need your big brother to fill you up with his big cock?”

“Yes. Please,” you whine as you wiggle beneath him. You can’t make yourself stay still, your body thrashes with need.

His pants are undone, barely hanging onto his hips when he releases your legs and pulls you up into a sitting position. He grabs your shirt and quickly pulls it over your head, tossing it off to the side haphazardly. He doesn’t even bother pulling your leggings off, grabbing the crotch and tearing it open.

“Hands and knees,” he instructs you and you immediately comply, rolling over and pushing your ass up in the air for him.

He groans at the sight of your lace panties clinging to your pussy, your arousal working as a glue. He tears your leggings further, not stopping until your whole ass is exposed for him.

He runs his fingers over your panty clad pussy and it has you pressing yourself back into his touch. He makes a sound of disapproval before a loud smack rings out, followed by a sharp stinging pain in your ass cheek.

He presses his chest into your back, bringing his mouth down to your ear. “Such an impatient slut,” he growls as he grinds his bare cock against you.

You go to turn your head to look back at him, but his hand is quick to grab your face and force you to look forward, before his hand roughly covers your mouth.

“Stay fucking still,” he hisses out at you, causing all of your muscles to freeze up in fear. The tone of his voice sends shivers down your spine. Part of you hates it, but another part, a much bigger part, loves it and has your pussy clenching around nothing.

“That’s it. Stay still like a good fuck bunny for your big brother.”

You feel him pull your panties away from your pussy and bunch them up and out of the way, before his fingers lightly graze around your needy hole.

“So fucking wet. And you tried saying you didn’t want this,” he chuckles directly into your ear, sounding like pure sex to you. He releases your mouth and instead pushes your face to the ground and holds the back of your neck instead.

His free hand leaves where he was teasing your hole, surprising you when he grabs one of your hands and brings it back to your wet cunt.

“Feel how fucking wet you are.” He pushes your fingers up against your soaked clit and your legs quiver at the sudden stimulation. “Feel that, bunny? Feel what your big brother did to you?”

You moan out as he continues rubbing your fingers into your clit.

“Yes,” your voice comes out whiny, “Big brother gets my pussy so wet.”

“Good girl. Should I give you what you want? Want me to shove my cock in my little sister’s pussy?”

You push your ass back against his groin again. “Yes, your little sister needs her pussy bred.”

He pulls your hand from your clit and brings your wet fingers up to your mouth. “Here. Open up and tell me how this slutty pussy tastes.”

You’ve barely opened your mouth before he’s pushing his fingers down against your tongue, causing you to eagerly lick and suck them clean.

“That’s it, taste this sweet fucking pussy for me. Such a good slut, huh? Nothing but a fuck bunny for me,” he shoves his fingers to the back of your throat, forcing you to fight your gag reflex while tears slip from your eyes.

You choke around his fingers and he quickly pulls them from your throat.

“You like tasting your own slutty pussy?”

You can’t stop the moan that slips past your lips, “Yes. I love it.”

“You love what? Come on, baby. Use your words so I can reward you.”

Another harsh slap to your ass has you yelping out, “I love tasting my own pussy. Love when big brother makes me taste myself.”

You crane your neck to look back at Leon and he lets you look at him. Mask still in place, t-shirt bunched up above his belly, his pants and boxers pushed down his thighs.

His cock is right against your needy hole. Just one small movement of his hips and you could finally feel him inside of you.

“There you go. Watch as big brother spreads you open on his cock.”

And then he slowly pushes forward and you look into his mask as you finally feel him inside of you.

Your pussy is immediately clenching around him. Weak little moans continuously falling from your lips as he pushes in further and further.

“Such a tight pussy, fuck.” He praises as he bottoms out and holds his dick inside of you. “You were made to take big brother’s cock. Look so fucking perfect like this.”

You whimper softly into the ground at his words, staying still and willing yourself to adjust to his massive dick. You feel split in half already and he hasn’t even started fucking you yet.

His hand runs up and down your back, along your spine gently. “That’s it, you got this, pretty bunny. Gonna bread this tight cunt, ruin you for anyone else.”

“Pl-please,” you whined out, “Please fuck me. I want it so bad. Big brother, please-”

You can’t even finish begging before he’s pulling out and roughly shoving his cock back into you.

“Oh my god,” your voice comes out in a tone you don’t even recognize as your own. “Yes, yes, yes, please. Oh fuck.”

He roughly grips your hip as he effortlessly thrusts in and out of your soaking wet pussy.

“You like that, baby sis? Already going dumb on my cock and I haven’t even properly started fucking you yet. Such a pathetic little whore, my pathetic little whore. Taking my cock so fucking well.”

Your eyes roll into the back of your head as he slowly starts to pick up the pace of his thrusts.

“All yours. Your whore,” you aren’t able to finish your statement before he starts aggressively fucking his cock into you. The only sounds leaving your mouth are broken gasps. The pleasure is too intense for you to make any other noise, mouth stuck open on a silent moan.

He moves his hand from the back of your throat, instead grabbing a handful of your hair harshly and yanking you back until your head is against his shoulder. The moan you release is nothing short of pornographic at the pain in your scalp.

He chuckles before speaking right against your ear, “Fucking take it, you stupid whore. Dumb little sis likes it rough. I’ll fucking give it to you just like you want it. Gonna fucking break you.”

“Oh fuck yes, daddy,” you don’t even register the words you’ve said until Leon let’s out a loud moan.

“Daddy? You dirty little girl. Want daddy to breed you? Need daddy to take care of you?”

“Yes. God, yes.” You’re too far gone in a pleasure filled haze to be embarrassed about calling him daddy. Fuck, you’d call him anything he asks right now.

“Gonna let daddy put a baby in you? Keep you tied to me forever.” He’s practically growling in your ear at this point, so worked up over you calling him daddy. “Gonna swell up with my baby and everyone will know how good I fuck you.”

“No, daddy, we can’t,” you try to reason with him through your brain fog.

He laughs loudly in your ear. “But I can, and I will. God, your boobs are gonna fucking leak all over. Gonna fucking suck those milky tits dry.”

You can’t stop yourself from clenching around his dick at his filthy words.

“Ugh, knew you’d like that. Gonna be tied to daddy forever. You’ll never fucking escape me. Gonna keep this pussy stuffed, gonna make you pop out all my babies. Gonna fucking show you how much of a daddy I am, baby.”

He quickly pulls out of you making you whine out in disappointment. But it doesn’t last long, as he throws you on your back. He wraps your thighs around his hips and shoves his dick back inside of you.

He goes back to his unforgiving pace and all you can do is stare up into the Ghostface mask, which only intensifies your pleasure.

Your hands trail up his chest until you’re gripping the back of his neck and pulling him closer into you. You go back and forth between staring into the mask and squeezing your eyes shut.

You don’t know what comes over you, but you're desperate for skin to skin contact. So you grab the hem of his shirt and yank it over his head, but in the process, you pull his mask off with it.

Then it’s just you and Leon staring right at each other’s faces. Sweat pours from his forehead, his mouth slightly agape as he pants from the exertion, and his eyes blown wide with lust. He looks like an absolute madman, but you suppose that’s because he is.

You wrap your arms around his neck and pull yourself up into his body. Your chest presses into his as you connect your lips with his. One of his arms wraps around your lower back while he uses his other arm to hold you two up. He thrusts, never once slowing.

The kiss is sloppy. Your tongues immediately come together and explore each other completely. Spit drips down your chin as you moan into the kiss.

He bites your lip, you bite his. He sucks on your tongue, you suck on his. He sucks your lips until they ache, and you suck his lips with everything you have.

You finally break the kiss, but keep your foreheads pressed together.

Leon pushes your bodies down, your back connecting harshly to the cold ground. He grabs your calves and brings your ankles to his shoulders.

“Oh god, daddy. Yes, fuck, please, fuck, just like that. Please, please, please, daddy, fuck.” You don’t process anything you’re saying. Words just keep falling from your lips as he continuously pounds deeply into you.

“I’m gonna fucking fill you up, baby sis. And you’re gonna take all of it. God, gonna breed my baby sister’s tight pussy. Gonna let daddy breed you, baby?”

“Yes, yes, yes, please.”

He brings his hand down between you two, ru

bbing your clit harshly causing you to cry out loudly at the intensity.

“Who’s gonna breed this pussy? Who’s baby is gonna grow in this fucking belly?”

Your eyes are rolling into the back of your head as your whole body feels more and more wound up, fastly approaching your release.

“Fucking answer me. Who’s breeding this tight cunt? Who’s cock are you gonna cum all over?”

“Yours. Yours, daddy. Gonna, fuck, gonna cream my big brother’s big fucking cock.”

“Yeah, that’s it baby. Tell me how it feels. Tell me how good big brother’s cock is making you feel.” He’s groaning, borderline growling, as he ruthlessly pounds into you.

You force your eyes open, force yourself to look into his eyes. “You daddy. You’re making my slutty pussy feel so fucking good. God, your cock is making my pussy feel so good. Big brother’s cock is making me feel so good. I wanna cum all over it.”

“Come for daddy, then. Cream my fucking cock like the dirty whore you are.” He pulls his hand from your clit so he can hold your thighs up more firmly. “Rub yourself for me. Wanna watch you push yourself over the edge.”

Your hand quickly reaches down, quickly rubbing fast circles on your soaking wet clit.

“Look at me while you cum on my cock. Be a good whore and look at who’s fucking you like this.”

You bite your lip until you taste blood again. Moaning loudly as you stare up at Leon and rubbing your clit furiously. You’re desperately trying to cum, desperately trying to push yourself over the edge. But no matter how close you feel, you can’t send yourself over the edge.

Until a stinging, blinding pain seers into the back of your thigh and you can’t even process the warm blood pouring from the freshly sliced wound before you’re cumming. Cumming harder than you ever have in your life. Not one inch of your body isn’t shaking, not one part of you not exploding with intense pleasure.

You’re screaming, your throat burning from the strain. You have to force yourself to stop as the overstimulation sets in.

“Dad, daddy, please. Fuck, I can’t take it anymore.” You’re practically sobbing now, but your request is ignored.

He pushes your ankles off of his shoulders and you immediately lock them behind his back. One of his hands grips your jaw and spits on your cheek.

“You’re gonna fucking take it, fucking whore.” His other hand runs down the middle of your chest, coating it in fresh blood. You look down and see your dry blood combining with the new blood, staining nearly your whole chest red.

A sharp slap meets your cheek. Your cheek burns and your ear rings from the sheer force of the hit. Before you can even yelp out in pain, his blood soaked fingers are being shoved into your mouth and you’re immediately hit with the copper taste.

“I’m cumming, fuck. Breeding baby sister’s greedy fucking hole. Take it, you stupid slut. Fucking take it, fuck.” His thrusts slow, but are just as hard as he cums deep inside of you.

You’re too distracted sucking his fingers clean to register what the stinging pain in your abdomen is.

Leon groans and moans above you as he comes down from his high. He finally looks back down at your face and can’t stop himself from smiling at the blood and dirt all over your body. He could eat you alive right now, and he just might.

He slowly pulls his spent cock out of you, causing you to whimper at the sudden emptiness and the feeling of his cum steadily dripping from your abused hole.

He sits back on his haunches and lets out a throaty laugh. “Would you look at that,” You follow the direction of his eyes down to your abdomen where you see blood pooling. He quickly picks up his discarded shirt and wipes away the excess blood, causing you to hiss out in pain.

But he finally uncovers his handiwork for you to see in all its glory. And you gasp out in shock at the sight of it.

Carved into your skin are messily drawn letters. L.S.K.

“See? You’ll never forget who you fucking belong to now.”

~masterlist~

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