#but to her it probably looked like i was going above and beyond. even though i really don't think of it like that

[oopsiedaisydeer]

swaying is not dancing

angst, fluff, yearning, cute, unresolved tension/unhappy ending, just friends wc - 1k

“Hey, babe.”

Luke’s voice startles Dotty out of the trance she found herself in, glancing at Matt out of the corner of her eye. The phones had been pretty quiet today, so she’d found herself tidying up her email inbox, sorting things in their respective categories and sub-categories. While tedious, it was soothing to know that she only had to focus her eyes beyond her computer to see where he was sitting, head down, scribbling on a notepad as he balanced the phone between his ear and his shoulder. 

He looked so nice like that. That was all. He was just nice to look at, to see a friendly face in such a dull environment every day. Just a glance and she didn’t feel the need to go get another cup of coffee, or slip her heels off under the desk. It was comforting, looking at Matt. The swoop of his brunette hair just above his blue eyes, and the solid, human outline of his shoulders through his shirt.

It was nice to see Luke though.

He leant over the desk, and she tilted her face up towards him as he kissed her on the cheek. It was nice to be kissed on the cheek by her fiancé. She didn’t have to convince herself of that, did she?

“I don’t think I’ll be able to make it to date night, do you want to do Saturday instead?”

She didn’t even really hear what Luke was saying… her mind was elsewhere.

“Babe?”

Dotty snapped her eyes back to the man in front of her, biting her lip absentmindedly.

Luke was still talking, arms crossed as he leaned against her desk. She hadn’t answered his question.

“Sorry,” she said, blinking. “Saturday? Yeah. That’s fine.”

Luke gave her a quick smile—more polite than affectionate—and straightened up, already pulling his phone from his pocket. “Cool. I’ll text you.���

And just like that, he walked away, glancing at Wyatt as he passed him in the hallway.

“Can you fax these,” Wyatt muttered, tossing a small stack of papers onto her desk with a dramatic flair. “And I need it done pronto, Dotty, got deadlines to keep track of. Besides, looks like you’ve got some free time.”

Dotty shot him a look. “You’re not my boss.”

“Excuse you, you’re talking to the Assistant to the Regional Manager.” Wyatt adjusted his glasses as if to prove his point. “Hey, also the roof’s still unlocked from when Neville snuck up there to cry this morning. You should catch the fireworks from up there before Corporate remembers we have liability insurance.”

“Fireworks?”

“Fourth of July makeup show. They canceled the real one last week because of the rain. Starts at eight.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Take a blanket. Or, I don’t know, Matt. Whatever’s cozier.”

Wyatt was a good friend, really, particularly when he wasn’t being annoyingly selfish and unnecessarily competitive. 

Dotty rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t help the way her gaze shifted again—just for a second—toward Matt.

The sun was starting to dip low when she climbed the last metal steps to the roof, an old blanket slung over one arm and a brown paper bag in the other. She wasn’t surprised to see Matt already up there, two foldable chairs set up haphazardly near the edge.

“Hey,” he said, standing as she approached. He looked like he wasn’t sure whether to greet her or make a joke, so he hovered somewhere in between, smiling sheepishly.

“I brought sandwiches,” she replied, holding out the bag like a peace offering. “They’re… probably still warm-ish.”

He grinned. “I love warm-ish.”

They sat in silence at first, splitting the food between them. The city below was starting to quiet down, lights flickering on across the skyline. From the parking lot below, the office windows looked like tiny gold squares.

“It’s nice up here,” Dotty said softly.

Matt leaned back in his chair. “It’s the one place in this building where no one asks if you’ve ‘circled back on that yet.’”

Dotty laughed, and the sound surprised her.

As the first burst of color exploded in the sky, they both tilted their heads up instinctively.

And somewhere between the red sparkle and the silver rain, she felt the silence stretch out, comfortable and slow.

They were the last ones left in the lot.

Dotty walked slowly toward her car, keys in hand, with Matt beside her, his iPod out and one earbud rolling in between his thumb and finger.

She glanced at it, the slow movement, “You got new music?” she asked, other questions lingering beneath the surface of such an innocent one.

Matt smiles, corners of his mouth quivering, before offering her an earbud.

“Trust me,” he said, slipping the other earbud in. “It’s the perfect song for this.”

She raised an eyebrow. “For walking to my Toyota?”

“For ending a nice night,” he corrected. “Try to keep up.”

The music was low and soft—something with strings and quiet vocals she didn’t recognize—and before she realised it, she was slowing her steps, falling into rhythm with him.

Not dancing. But swaying.

Just swaying.

And then he said it.

“That was a pretty good first date.”

Dotty froze.

She pulled the earbud out, letting it hang from his hand. “It wasn’t a date.”

Matt didn’t look at her, just let the iPod fall into his pocket. “Right. Of course. My bad.”

The silence stretched again, but this time it wasn’t comfortable.

Dotty turned away, unlocking her car.

“I mean,” Matt said lightly, “I guess it wouldn’t count anyway. Your first date with your current fiancé was at a hockey game and he left you there to go drinking with his friends. Didn’t even drive you home. Now that’s classic romance.”

Dotty looked over her shoulder, eyes narrowed. She felt sick.

“Seriously?” she said. “I told you that in confidence, Matt.”

Matt raised his hands. “Just saying, if that counts as a date…”

She didn’t let him finish. Just climbed into the car and shut the door.

He watched her drive away, hands in his pockets, a little too cold for a summer night.

dividers by @bernardsbendystraws ꨄ

a/n: i dont loove this but i hope u guys like it regardless.. hopefully another (birthday???) fic for them tmr

thank you so much for reading!!! likes, comment and reblogs are much appreciated :)

[corvid-language-library]

I met our new mall leader today and ngl I think I made a good impression :D

[vampmira]

open up what you got in your mind to me. [pt.2 – saja boys.]

they've never met someone like you — a mortal who almost knew them .. better than they knew themselves. for the boys, it's annoyingly intriguing. for the girls, it's comforting.

paring(s): huntrix & saja boys x demon expert!gn!reader

warning(s:) EVERYTHING IN HERE IS A PART TWO TO THIS !! some movie changes, probably effected lore that makes no sense for the sake of the narrative, a little angst at the beginning

request | tags: @blueberrysquire @akariis4snowball @j0ykill

a/n: this is part 2 !! i had sooo many ideas for huntrix that i had to make another part for the saja boys so that it wasn't so long . this part isn't as good but i liked it so ☆☆☆

that night huntrix defeated gwima was a blur. all you remember was the zombie mob of fans, half of the fight, and the use of your aura vision to raise the saja boys above the honmoon before it glimmered in gold. jinu, who gave his newly found soul for rumi, was practically reincarnated through her sword – standing in front of her post-concert, arms open for her to fall into with tears from the both of them. everyone else? well, they felt lost.

the saja boys weren't sure what to do anymore. jinu was overjoyed, of course, but the boys knew nothing more beyond gwima and their mission. they didn't care much about music, nor their fans – which huntrix still couldn't wrap their minds around – and it's not like they had secret human hobbies. they never had time for that. until now.

post-gwima, they stayed in an apartment near the huntrix penthouse, trying to figure out their new lives. for the most part, they spent most of their time under your watch – to make sure they didn't go cause chaos – but also .. under your study.

you were weird to them

they weren't used to someone other than them.. knowing them

their capabilities, their knowledge, their origins.

actually jinu found your extensive understanding of what he is to be kind of comforting

he noticed how you never really drooled over them

you'd stare, sure, but in the same way an art critic would stare at a painted blue canvas with a smeared red dot in the middle

he felt like that red dot – unexplained but you somehow understood

when he told you about his past, it was a lot for him – talking about his cruel choice

but you.. didn't judge him.

in fact, you wrote it down in your notebook immediately, the one you never let the boys get too close to

he accepted you into his life when he entertained your interest in his history

unlike him, however, the other boys were uninterested

at first anyway

thank jinu for getting them to talk to you btw

it took a little bit of convincing – telling them that you wanted to give them something more than just gwima

even though they didn't want it ...

REGARDLESS they hang out around the penthouse

because they're no longer saja boys (uninterested and unsupported by any demon staff anymore)

they really had nothing to do but mildly annoy your personal space

including being the center of your attention when the girls are out

mira gave you one rule, "living room and bathroom. only." and you've succeeded so far. abby and romance were talking by the large scale windows, mystery was playing some game with baby (and obviously winning), and jinu sat in the middle of the couch, watching whatever movie rumi put on for him. you sat beside him, sketching in your one and only personal researcher book. your pencil drew out what you felt like was the final line in mystery's hair ... before you huffed, erasing it, and trying again.

that was... until the littlest demon startled you.

"mystery, they're drawing you." bored of his game, baby peered over your shoulder, only passively curious and really wanting to mess with you. heads turned at your exposure to the room, especially jinu, who looked over your other shoulder at the sketch you did of him earlier.

"you're.. sketching us?" the direct ask made you a bit nervous, especially being under so many eyes. (kind of. mystery was more just.. generally facing your direction.) "'weakness.. chest?' are you taking notes on us?" you stood up, nearly defensive, turning around to face the couch trio.

"if it weren't for your old friends, i wouldn't have to write it all down again." the boys went quiet, remembering the origin of your knowledge and powers. "i'm just.. tired of keeping it all inside. i need to get it out somewhere."

romance, true to his name, leaned over your shoulder, putting you both in a proximity much closer than you've ever had to experience before.

"then why don't we do something.. a little more fun .. to help you get it all out?"

normally sentences like that from him sound way more suggestive than he means them to be

but this time he came up with an actual solution to release your closed up, ready-to-pop-out-of-your-skin knowledge

they gave you a one way trip to infodump station ! an interview !

they wanted to learn more about you anyways

their fellow demons down below were the ones to wipe out your ancestors

not them

and they make sure you know it too

but they can't help but feel .. a little, tiny bit bad that you're now just a living library

a time capsule, holding onto so much information that you're about to burst 24/7

they had never met a researcher honestly

you intrigued them as much as they did for you

how much did you really know ?? did you know anything or is all this antsy behavior a ploy to make it look like you knew everything when you really knew nothing ??

their disguises were perfectly created to make every little fan fall for their attractiveness the second they looked at the boys

but you never drooled at them or had your eyes pop out of your head

you just always... stared. processing. tracing mindfully.

they didn't know what you were really abut. but they were about to find out. and really test your persona.

romance sat relaced in a chair as you circled him, pencil taking note of everything you noticed. how his markings were sharp, not rounded like rivers, how his skin was cooled, not burning hot. all things you already knew, but you found small comfort in knowing not much changed. you took a deep breath around his hair, nose scrunching up. he smiled, taking your cheek in his hand.

"new cologne." his voice was smooth, gentle. traditionally alluring. "just for you. do you like it?" he turned up his flirtatiousness, pulling you in closely, testing the waters of your focus.. before you turned away to start writing, completely uneffected.

"so many generations and you guys still smell like flames.." you mumbled to yourself.

"would you rather we smell like bubblegum?" baby tried to sass you, but you were too focused on the sharpness of his teeth to care. you stepped towards him, eyes widened.

"can demons still tear apart brick with the force of their canines?" you asked, rather close to his face. for a moment, he almost felt like the flustered one.

"yes..? no? i-i don't know." he crossed his arms, childishly. "i don't go around biting bricks." you jot it down still as you move towards abby. he's deeply relaxed, leaning back on the couch, comfortable shirt riding up to expose his famously toned abs. your eyes trail off of your notebook and they think.. they've got you.

"like what you see?" he teases. "you can touch them, you know." a bold move that brings you closer, nails tracing his skin. they're almost disappointed that abby is the one who stole your attention.. before they realize you're attention isn't stolen at all. you're drawing his markings with careful detail.

"where did yours come from? rumi's started forming on her arm when she was a kid, but they haven't reached her stomach yet. they grow with time, right? how old would that make you then..?" you dissolve into mutters they can barely decipher. "oh!! mystery!" he almost jumps behind the couch when you race over to him, making jinu laugh from the sidelines of their attempts to flirt with you. "i've never seen a demon sparkle! that's new.. is that just you? or is there a whole subspecies of sparkling demons? or is it your human disguise..?" your questions nearly overwhelm him, enough to make him forget how he's supposed to flirt with you, but romance pulls you away, whispering in your ear.

"it's not just him." he smiles, hand on your shoulder. "you're sparkling, too, sweetheart." if anyone could fluster anyone, it'd be him, even if it takes two rounds. his thumb runs against your chin. "you look so cute in this lighting, like a rose."

"speaking of which, what's the flora like down there? are there any? do they eat demons or are they like.. regular flowers? we knew more of demons than of gwima's realm. did they smell? i bet they might have.. would it be nostalgic or torturing?"

the boys share a look, and sigh. you went off into high speed muttering again.

you really were everything you said

uninterested in their flirts and more in knowledge

that almost made them like you more..

in the following times after the interview, they greeted you a bit more casually – sometimes cheerfully, asking if you had any new drawings or trivia you wanted to get off your chest

how did you . tame them !? does the whole hard to get thing actually work !?

it confused the girls wildly

but to see them adjusting to being here through someone who actually understood them instead of lying around, empty and lost, was a pick-me-up in the mornings

one morning, after being delivered a coffee, handsigned by the boys, you felt something click in your head, a sensation you had never felt before, and reached to put it in your notebook immediately

"demons, when properly befriended, like to be understood. they brought me coffee. do demons like coffee??"

[oporotheca]

The Sweetest Struggle

synopsis: up early with your toddler, Satoru endures the sweet struggle of letting you sleep in a little longer - much to his daughter's chagrin.

tags: MDNI, pure domestic bliss, fluff, satoru gojo loooves his wife and daughter, no plot just fluff <3 notes: find a prequel of sorts to this fic here <3

6:00 a.m. in the Gojo household, and despite the fact that the sun was only just barely winking upon the horizon, two voices could be heard above the slowly awakening crickets and early birds.

Uncoordinated clapping - palms only just barely meeting and with scarcely any force behind them - accompanied whispered words, stifled yawns, and breathless chuckles.

"Oh, c'mon, princess... you're just handing the applause out now, I didn't even do anything."

Satoru complained softly down to the child in his arms - his daughter, just shy of a year old - making no effort to hold back the smile that was tugging at the corners of his lips.

In response, she babbled happily, complete nonsense spilling from her lips as she squirmed with delight, gazing up at her father with wide, shining eyes - as if he had hung the moon and stars just for her.

He adored that look, not just because it made him feel like the luckiest man in the world, but because he was certain, beyond even a shadow of a doubt, that she had learned it from the way he looked at you.

And speaking of you -

"Mamamamama..."

The little one droned on, her baby babbles fading into that familiar word she was so very fond of using. Satoru couldn't really blame her though; not with the way your whole face lit up whenever you heard it. If he were in possession of such a power, he was certain he'd abuse it too.

"Yeah, yeah..."

He chuckled, rolling his eyes as he pinched at his daughter's soft, sleep-warmed cheek, trying to draw her attention away from the brief glimpse she had gotten of you still fast asleep in bed as he'd quietly shut the door on his way past after scooping her from her crib.

"Let my wife sleep, you precious little leech."

His tone was pure adoration even if his words teased.

After all, he'd be lying if he said he didn't get where his little girl was coming from.

The sight of you in bed that morning, all wrapped up in the thin covers you'd only recently swapped the winter set out for, hair mussed and expression oh so peaceful, had made it almost impossible to leave once he'd heard the telltale sound of shuffling coming from the monitor he'd moved from your bedside table to his the night before.

His baby girl was an early riser, after all, always up at the crack of dawn, bright-eyed and ready to go... much to her parents' exhaustion...

But there was no way he’d let you be the one to get up with her again for the sixth time that week — not after all those mornings he’d missed, slipping out to work before the sun had even shown its face.

Not to mention how small you’d looked in that big bed of yours, the one meant for two...

Yeah. He really couldn’t blame his daughter.

In fact, he probably wanted to wake you up even more than she did - he just had more self control...

Marginally.

"C'mon sweetheart."

He murmured, adjusting the 11-month-old on his hip as he started to prepare breakfast for her, eggs already out and on the counter, rice cooker humming beside them, and pan warming up on the stove.

"Lets make you something to eat, hmm? We can go see Mama after."

And when he looked down to check his little girl's reaction, only to be greeted by the sight of her adorable smile - the one she had inherited from you - he felt his heart swell with adoration.

So, if he just so happened to wake you up a little bit earlier than he'd planned...

Well, who could blame him?

After all, the little girl on his hip was far too persuasive to resist.

[rafesgreasycurtainbangs]

seeing pregnant!reader as a pogue so she probably stresses over bills and doesn’t have much support especially during her pregnancy. so rafe spots a mason jar full of her tips labeled “for baby” and he gets like upset over the fact his baby mama isn’t taking care of herself at all especially during this time in her life

༄｡° “for baby” - rafe cameron

series masterlist

Rafe had never been the type to care about money—at least, not in the traditional sense. The things that came easy to him, like his family’s wealth or connections, had never really been a priority. But seeing you, in this fragile state—pregnant, struggling, stressed—made him feel something he hadn’t felt before. A sense of responsibility that went beyond just the two of you.

He was sitting on your couch, scrolling through his phone when he heard the sound of the shower running in the next room. It was early in the afternoon, and you’d been in there for a while. Rafe knew you’d had a rough morning, battling the piles of unpaid bills scattered across your kitchen counter, the ones that you kept telling yourself you’d get to, even though you never did. He had seen the stress in your eyes, heard the catch in your voice when you’d talked about how much you hated asking for help, how much you hated feeling like you were failing.

Rafe didn’t want to press you, didn’t want to make you feel any more stressed, but something inside him was churning, something that only seemed to intensify as the minutes passed. He needed to know you were okay, especially during the pregnancy.

After a moment, Rafe stood up and wandered into the kitchen, his eyes instinctively going to the small mason jar on the counter. The jar was filled with crumpled dollar bills and coins, some tips you’d saved up over time. He recognized it immediately—the “For Baby” label written on a piece of tape that was crooked but still legible. His stomach twisted.

He walked over and picked it up, holding the jar in his hand like it was a ticking time bomb. He wasn’t sure what bothered him more—the fact that you had to resort to saving tips just to buy things for the baby, or the fact that you had so little faith in yourself that you thought this was the best way. You didn’t even want to ask for help. It hit him in a way he wasn’t prepared for. This wasn’t just about the baby—it was about you. You were clearly not taking care of yourself.

His jaw tightened as he tried to calm the rush of emotions surging in him. He didn’t know how to help you with this. He didn’t even know what you needed, aside from support—and maybe, that was the thing he’d been avoiding all along. He was so used to being the one that people didn’t depend on, that he didn’t know how to let himself be the person who took care of someone else—especially you.

He was still holding the jar when you stepped out of the bathroom, your wet hair dripping down your back, a towel wrapped tightly around your body. The sight of you, so beautiful but so worn down, only made his chest ache more.

You froze when you saw him standing there, his face unreadable as he looked down at the jar in his hands.

“Rafe?” you asked softly, feeling the tension settle between you both.

He didn’t immediately answer, just set the mason jar down on the counter with a little more force than necessary. He looked at you, his eyes dark, a flicker of concern mixed with frustration.

“You’re not taking care of yourself,” he said, his voice low but charged with emotion. “You can’t keep doing this, y/n.”

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his words, the unspoken accusation. You’d never meant to hide the jar from him, but in a way, it had felt easier to keep it private. Like a part of you could still hold onto your independence if you did it alone.

“I—I don’t have a choice,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “I can’t just ask for help, Rafe. I don’t want to be a burden.”

He shook his head, his frustration boiling over. “You are a burden to me when you don’t let me help you. You think this is easy for me to see? You’re carrying my child, and you’re over there worrying about pennies instead of your health. What kind of a father would I be if I didn’t step up?”

You flinched at his words. He wasn’t wrong, but it still felt like you were failing in some way. Your eyes watered as you looked down at the floor, unsure of what to say.

“Look at me,” Rafe said softly, taking a step closer to you. You didn’t want to, but you did, lifting your eyes to meet his. His expression had softened, but his voice was still laced with concern. “You’re not alone in this. You’ve never been alone in this.”

“I’m trying,” you said, your voice breaking as the tears finally fell. “I just—I just want to be able to do it myself. I want to be strong enough for the baby… for you.”

Rafe’s hands reached out, cupping your face gently. “You don’t have to do it all on your own, baby. That’s not what I’m here for. You are strong, but you don’t have to keep pretending that you’re okay when you’re not. Let me help you.”

You felt the vulnerability in his words, the sincerity that you had never quite believed from anyone else in your life. The thought of letting someone in—of letting him in—had always been so difficult, but maybe that was the piece you had been missing. Maybe you didn’t have to do everything alone.

“I just don’t want to be a burden,” you whispered, your head falling to his chest.

“You’re not a burden,” he said, his voice gentle as he held you close. “You never were.”

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, wrapping his arms around you. “Let me take care of you, okay? Let me do this for you.”

You nodded, feeling a weight lifting off your shoulders, even as the reality of everything still hung in the air. But for the first time, you didn’t feel like you were carrying it all on your own. And maybe that was the first step in learning how to let someone else share the load.

©RAFESGREASYCURTAINBANGS ⋆˙⟡ est. 2025

[witchesverse]

please, don't.

pairing: agathario x reader

summary/request: you're an inexperienced witch who tried to stop her coven from executing agatha. after agatha kills them, rio appears, and that is how you meet the loves of your life. once you and nicholas die, agatha and rio part ways, only to see each other on the witches' road.

content: character death, getting shot, blood, crying, begging, angst without a happy ending.

masterlist

a/n: erm so im not entirely sure if this what u wanted but this is what i wrote anyway :> icl this is not what i normally write so if it sucks that's why lol

1693

The forest was typically quiet, the only sound being the running of water and the chirping of a bird. You loved the quiet, though. After living in a busy, loud village for most of your life; the quietness was peaceful. Plus, it gave you a chance to practice your witchcraft without someone screaming in your ear about it. But, it sometimes got lonely.

So, when you heard the loud screams and cries of a woman, it peaked your curiosity and you crept towards it.

One half of your brain was blaring alarm bells. This could easily be a trap that you were foolishly walking into. But, the other half of your brain told you that there could be someone in danger and you couldn’t not help them.

Your eyes widened. There was a group of women standing around a small stage with a woman tied to the pole in the center. The scream must have come from her.

“You stole knowledge above your age and you practiced the darkest of dark magic.” One of the women spoke. “You will be executed for your crimes, Agatha.”

Even before you started practicing witchcraft, dark magic had always been an interest for you. You had dreamt of learning dark magic and becoming a powerful, twisted witch. Now, this was your perfect chance to learn dark magic and your teacher was about to be executed. 

You couldn’t let that happen.

You were positive that these witches had centuries of witchcraft on you, but that didn’t stop you from throwing an attack spell at them. You impressively managed to hit 3/6. The three witches that you hit fell to the ground and squirmed in pain.

Unfortunately, you were blasted into a tree by one of the other witches. You groaned. You felt like all your bones had been snapped in half. 

Two witches lifted you to your feet and dragged you in front of the oldest looking witch. She was angry.

“Who is this pathetic excuse of a witch?” She asked.

“The hell did you just call me?” You roared. “I’ll snap your fucking neck.”

Your threat was empty. You had never inflicted such damage against a person, but you hated being called a ‘pathetic witch’. You preferred the term ‘inexperienced witch’ or ‘baby witch’.

“I’ll deal with her after this.” She waved her hand and you were dragged to a tree, hands bound behind your back with magic.

You couldn’t believe it. You had lost your chance of learning dark magic and now, you were probably going to be killed. That is beyond embarrassing.

You flinched as Agatha was blasted with six beams of magic. Normally, that would kill a person immediately, but she didn’t die. She screamed in pain but with horror, you watched as their blue beams turned purple and they had the life sucked out of them.

Their lifeless bodies slumped to the floor. “Holy shit.”

Agatha sighed, stepping down from the stage and looking contently at the dead bodies of her coven members. You accidently snapped a twig underneath your foot as you moved towards her, causing her attention to snap to you.

“You tried to save me. Why?” She asked.

“You’re unique and that interests me. Not many witches practice dark magic anymore and I want you to teach me.”

Suddenly, you felt an uncomfortable and cold feeling wash over you. You glanced around the forest until your eyes landed on her.

“I must say, that was quite the performance.” 

The woman moved towards Agatha and you. There was an unsettling feeling about her - something not human. 

“And you are?” Agatha questioned.

“Rio Vidal.” She bowed dramatically. “And I think we’re going to make a perfect team, baby.”

1815

You scowled and crossed your arms. You had been trying to successfully do this spell for the past 5 months, but you haven’t been able to. It frustrated you that you couldn’t do it.

Agatha kissed the top of your head as she walked past you. “You’ll get it at some point, sweetheart.”

You noticed the basket of fresh strawberries in her hand. “What’s that for?”

“We’re having a picnic.” Your eyes lit up and she smiled. “Come on. Grab your coat, it’ll be cold.”

You walked for 20 minutes until the thick trees faded and you walked into an opening. It was beautiful. You followed the trail of flowers that led to the edge of a cliff, the strong smell of wet grass and salty seawater combined with a nice breeze made you smile.

“There are my girls.” Rio sat cross-legged on one of the cushions on the picnic blanket and smiled at you. She patted the cushion in the middle and you sat down.

There were different types of fruit, baked goods, and drinks spread around the blanket.

“When did you plan this?” You asked.

Agatha sat next to you and placed her hand on your thigh. She always put her hand there; she said it made her feel at peace.

“A few weeks ago.” She answered, grabbing a grape and popping it in her mouth. “We figured you deserve a reward for doing so well in your learning.”

You kissed both of their cheeks. “Thank you.”

For a while, you talked and ate with them whilst looking out into the ocean. You excitedly pointed out every marine animal you spotted in the waves, which caused Rio to spew facts about them. After being around since the start of death, she had many nerdy facts about animals.

Once the sun had started to set, you became sleepy. Your head was resting in Rio’s lap and she scratched lightly at your scalp, lulling you to sleep. Agatha sat with her head resting against Rio’s shoulder and they quietly talked.

You sighed happily. Sometimes you thought about what your life would have been like if you didn’t try to help Agatha. You wouldn’t have met Agatha and you would’ve first met Rio once you died. 

Suddenly, there was a loud scream.

You all stood and became very aware of how exposed you were in the opening. There was silence for a few moments, then there was another scream and a gunshot.

“You need to go.” Rio shoved Agatha and you towards the forest.

“What’s going on?” You couldn’t hide the panic in your voice.

“Witch hunters.”

Your heart dropped. Lately, there was an uprising in witch hunting, but you thought that you lived far enough from a village that there was no risk. Clearly, you were wrong.

Agatha grabbed onto your wrist and dragged you through the forest. You shook in fear with each gunshot and scream you heard. Even though your girlfriend was Death, death still scared you.

“Oh, and what do we have here?”

You froze and Agatha cursed loudly, shoving you behind her. A man stood in front of Agatha with his gun pointed at her with a sick, twisted smile on his face.

He pulled the trigger.

You don’t even know how your body reacted that quickly, but you managed to step in front of Agatha and took the bullet straight through your heart. You dropped to the ground, blood spurting from your chest.

Agatha screamed and blasted the boy with her magic, leaving a blazing hole in his stomach. His lifeless body collapsed. 

“No, no, no.”

Agatha turned you on your back. There was blood dripping from your mouth and your chest. She couldn’t feel a heartbeat.

“Agatha.”

Rio stood next to her.

“Shut up, Rio.” She snapped. “Please, shut up.”

“Agatha.” She said more sternly. 

Agatha shook her head. “You can stop this. Bring her back to life.”

Rio sighed and crouched next to your body. She tried to brush your hair out of face but Agatha slapped her hand away.

“Do not touch her.” She spat. “You bring her back to life or you don’t fucking touch her, do you understand me?”

Rio stood, her face emotionless. She stared at Agatha, almost like she was waiting for Agatha to change her mind, but once she realised there was nothing more she would say, she left.

1887

Agatha cried out in pain and leaned on a tree for support. After carrying her child for 9 months, he was finally ready. With tears falling down her cheeks, she prepared herself for birth. 

She was finally going to meet her boy. 

Then, she saw the familiar figure.

“No, please.” She cried as Rio stepped towards her. “My love, please don’t do this to me again.”

Rio didn’t reply.

“You took Y/n from me. Please give my boy, I need him.” She begged. “I will hate you forever if you do this.”

Rio swallowed. “I can only offer time.”

And so she did. Agatha birthed a healthy baby boy who she named Nicholas, and he lived for six years until Rio took him. Once again, Agatha’s heart broke and she was left alone.

2026

Since the death of Nicholas and yourself, Agatha and Rio weren’t in contact. Agatha hated her with every fiber in her body. Rio, on the other hand, missed and craved Agatha with every fiber in her body.

So, when Rio was summoned to The Witches’ Road, the exact place where Agatha stood, they both felt strong emotions.

“Agatha,”

It was quiet, besides the occasional snores from Alice. If you were there, you would have considered it to be peaceful and relaxing. 

“I know you’re awake, Agatha.”

Rio carefully stepped over the sleeping bodies and sat in front of Agatha. She rolled her eyes when she saw that Agatha had her eyes shut, pretending to be asleep.

Rio flicked her forehead. “I want us to talk.”

Agatha glared at her and sat up. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

Rio grabbed Agatha’s collar and tugged her forward. Agatha tried to recoil but Rio kept her close. 

“Yet, there is.” She insisted. “They wouldn’t want us to be like this. Y/n would want us move on and continue living the perfect life that we had.”

“Don’t say that. You have no idea what they would want.” Agatha scoffed.

"Do you seriously think that Y/n and Nicky would want us to live with anger and hurt for each other?"

Agatha didn't respond.

Being this close to each other, Rio noticed small details about Agatha’s face. There was a small scar under her left eye that hadn’t been there before, and she wondered where she got that from.

“It broke my heart to take both of them from you. I did not enjoy watching you cry and beg, but-"

Agatha cut her off. “Once we get off The Witches’ Road, I do not want to see your face again. I want you to leave me alone, do you understand?”

Rio felt her heart break and she blinked back tears. She released Agatha from her grasp and stood. If Agatha truly didn’t want to see Rio’s face again, she would respect that, no matter how bad it hurt her.

[sswed]

i used to rule the world

aitana bonmati x realmadrid!player

A/N: suprisingly, no smut but a little angsty, thus read if you so wish

wc 2.3k

Winning against Barcelona is a shock. Winning at the Lluis Companys against Barcelona came to be even more of a shock. You score the winning goal, right at the very end. You can see the referee reach into her pocket for the whistle and decide to just go for it, you're yards out but Cata is off her line.

Magically, it goes in and you're bombarded by a horde of players in white just seconds later. Your teammates scramble to launch themselves at you and you practically scream your heart out, point to the crest on your shirt with pride. 

You don't think you've felt better in your entire professional career, so ecstatic that you're buzzing to go another 90 minutes. For a moment, you feel on par with Barcelona. With the likes of Alexia and Aitana.

Then you see Aitana's face. After the celebrations, when you're finally let go after your wonder strike, you look at her for the first time since the second half whistle. She looks devastated and equally frustrated but what sends jolts down your spine is the look of contempt from her as you grin from ear to ear.

Playing for Real Madrid has never been easy. Winning the league is hard, winning a single trophy domestically as well as continentally is beyond difficult with Barcelona and other European giants looming over you.

Yet the hardest thing about being a Los Blancos is Aitana, you love her so much it hurts sometimes and this time it feels like your heart is being ripped out of your chest. She's Barcelona through and through, made in La Masia and you know that playing for Madrid is never going to sit well with her. No matter how much she tries to convince you that she's fine with it.

Once the final whistle is heard, mere moments after your goal, the team bursts at the seams. They celebrate as though it were a final and they had won the trophy from Barcelona's hands. Tears are shed, this is a historic moment, winning on Barcelona's home territory in what is their current home ground feels like an achievement above all else.

You, on the other hand, feel torn. You've scored a banger against Barcelona from yards away, you've won something of significance for what seems to be the first time. You've never been in the Ballon D'or conversations, never made European glory yours but this moment is something else. A personal victory as much as a club one.

Then, there is Aitana. She looks on the verge of tears as she shakes hands with the referees and your heart breaks at the sight. She's no longer the sunshine you know so well, the one that can make a joke that you remember for the whole day.

"Fantastic performance!" Jose grins and pats you on the back. 

After some praise from your coach, you walk into enemy territory and are immediately greeted with forlorn faces and cunning eyes. You clench your jaw when Alexia walks up to you, she's your height but suddenly, you feel small next to her.

"Good goal," She reaches to shake your hand with a firm grip.

She's upset, you can tell. There's a hardness in her eyes that lets you know. You aren't close with her, you don't know her that well but you feel bad and that's something you shouldn't have to feel. You've never seen Aitana feel bad for knocking in goal after goal, be it against you in the league or internationally.

"Thank you," You mumble, it feels awkward having two-time Ballon D'or winner tell you you've well without a smile.

Alexia nods at you then fades away, walking off somewhere. The changing rooms, probably. Then you're left with a couple of others before you can get to Aitana. You decide to just power through, ignore the awkwardness and get to your girlfriend as quickly as possible.

When you get there, Aitana is still sitting on the bench, under the plastic roofing that shades both you and her, away from the heavy rain. 

She doesn't look happy, the opposite actually. You're pretty sure she's been crying a little, her eyes are red and she's gone as white as a ghost. You feel your own eyes well up at the sight but you quickly push it down, you don't need to feel this way.

"Baby," You try, crouching down beside the bench.

Aitana doesn't look at you and your heart sinks at the rejection. You've never had to experience this before. It's been you taking losses since you’ve started dating. You've had to put on a hard shell and tell her you're okay even when she took away the chance to play a World Cup final.

"Go away," Aitana whispers and you barely catch it.

"Please look at me?" You ask, hoping Aitana will find reason and look at you.

You don't really want to do this here, out in the open with stray fans still in the stands and Aitana's teammates watching the two of you with eagle eyes.

"Didn't you hear me? Go away." Aitana scoffs out and then, finally looks at you.

You flitch under her gaze. Upset doesn't even cover half of what Aitana is, she's looking at you with so much anger that you find yourself wanting to just walk away, up and leave Barcelona all together even when you promised her you'd stay until Tuesday.

"I won't," You try to keep your voice steady, not let the mixture of anger and sadness get the best of you.

It hurts you to see Aitana like this, all frustrated and disappointed but you can't help but be angry at her. You've always let her be the best, win Ballon D'or after Ballon D'or, extinguish your World Cup dreams, bash you every time you meet in the league.

"Leave me alone!" Aitana yells and every single one of her teammates heads turn to the two of you.

The feeling of ten people gazing at you all at once makes you shiver. You know that the majority of people at Barcelona are aware of your relationship with Aitana but that doesn't stop Patri putting her hand on your shoulder.

"Maybe you should give her some space?" Patri asks softly, she's got a half grimace on her face and you feel a shot of anger pass through you. They've got no right to look at you with pity.

You shrug her hand off and stand, Aitana watches you with wide eyes. Clearly, she hadn't expected you to actually take Patri's advice.

"When you want to stop behaving like a spoiled child, we can talk," You huff and turn on your heel before stomping towards the away changing rooms.

Misa looks at you with sympathetic eyes that you disregard immediately. You don't need pity, it's not your fault. Olga, instead, gives you a hard pat on the back and a grin.

"That goal was magic!" Olga's practically screaming in your ear and you can't manage to feel happy again.

All you feel is anger. You're angry at Aitana, at her teammates, at everyone looking at you with pity when they should be happy. You don't know what to do, you had told the staff that you'd been staying in Barcelona for the reminder of your days off but now, if you're going to be staying, it will be at a random hotel room.

You contemplate going back home, going against your promise and just leaving. You decide against it, you hope Aitana will come around. Maybe call you, ask you to come over and then you could make it all okay by cuddling on the sofa.

So after everyone is showered, changed and packed, the team slowly shuffles out of the changing room and into the parking lot. You follow them before breaking off and walking the opposite way, down a random street and no one recognises you. It's always like that when you're alone, without Aitana.

You wander the streets of Barcelona for a while with your overnight bag on your shoulder. You've never really seen the city in its entirety, sure, Aitana has taken you to see the monuments when you've both had time off but she's never shown you back alleys or just random streets.

You think about the game. It had been amazing to win against a Barcelona side that had beat you multiple times, that has won the Champions League. Still, the fight with Aitana made you rethink it all. Should you have not celebrated as you did? Maybe save the shot and pass it?

Your phone buzzes and you see Aitana's caller id on the screen. You wonder what would happen if you didn't pick up. She'd be upset, you know that and you'd be too.

So you pick up, "Hello?"

Aitana's voice is small on the other line, "Can you come here?"

Your heart tightens at her voice. She sounds meek and it's not entirely unusual but it's not frequent enough for you to grow used to it. You want to say no, tell her that she's taken it too far but your resolve breaks immediately.

"Please?" Aitana whispers, like she's resisting the urge to cry on the phone and you know then that there is no way you're going to tell her no.

You get to her apartment in record time, practically running there which is detrimental for your recovery but you can't find the urge to care. You buzz her number and she lets you in, you decide to forgo the elevator and run up the stairs, skipping a few each time.

When you knock on the door, Aitana answers immediately. She's standing there in your jumper, the one you left for her last time and you want to crack a smile but she looks so tired, so sad you think a part of you is going to die.

You drop your bag in the doorway and open your arms, Aitana slots right into your hug with a sigh. It's like coming home in the best way possible. You never want to fight with her like this again, you would do anything to prevent it.

"I'm sorry," Aitana mumbles into your jumper and you squeeze your arms around her tighter.

"It's okay," You say back then run a hand down her back comfortingly.

You know how it is to lose better than anyone and that's why you hold her in the hallway for a while, just run your hand up and down her back while she grips you tightly. You want to laugh and tell her that you won't run away.

"I'm sorry," Aitana repeats and you feel your stomach tighten.

You never want her to be sorry, even if you're furious because it breaks your heart to see her like this.

"Can I come in?" You ask, half joking and half serious.

Aitana nods against your chest and moves back, her eyes are a little red and you see the tissues in her hand. You pick up your bag off the floor, only to dump it a meter away by where you take off your shoes. Normally, you'd hide them in the cupboard but you don't think Aitana will mind this time.

"Sofa time?" You smile softly.

'Sofa time' had become a running joke after the first time you stayed over. Aitana had demanded you spend time on the sofa with her, watching something you had absolutely no interest in and you coined the phrase 'Aitana's Sofa Time' which naturally evolved into what you're doing now.

Aitana's head is resting on your chest, she's lying right on top of you, her head facing the TV which is playing some random program. Your arms are wrapped around her middle, holding her close. You never want to let go, you realise it then. Your fight in the stadium had been one of few, the last only minor and this one something massive. 

It made it clear for you that you never want to be angry at her or have her be angry at you.

"Are you feeling better?" You ask, grazing her ear with your nose.

Aitana chuckles light at the touch then nods against you and squeezes her arms tight around your shoulders. You breathe out a light sigh, this is all you could ask for. Just Aitana, in your arms with the TV playing in the background.

"Your goal..." Aitana starts and you want to chuckle because of course she would mention it.

"What about it?" You ask whilst you close your eyes, enjoying the rise and fall of her chest against yours.

"It was... beautiful," Aitana admits softly and you can't help but grin at the words.

It's not like Aitana never compliments your playing but every time you hear it, from her of all people, it makes you feel as though you're over the moon.

You shift slightly and Aitana looks at you with a raised brow then you lean forwards and capture her lips. The kiss is sweet, soft like a fluffy pillow and you couldn't wish for anything more. Aitana tastes like berry flavoured electrolytes and you can't get enough, you slip your tongue into her mouth, letting yourself explore by tracing her teeth one by one like you've done a million times before.

Aitana moans into your mouth and you decide to pull back. Her hand immediately finds the back of your neck, pulling you back in and you chuckle when she presses a closed mouth kiss to your lips.

"I love you," You whisper against her lips, it's quiet, like a prayer and you'll repeat it for the rest of your life if she'll let you.

Aitana smiles softly, "I love you more, so much you don't even know."

You chuckle and rest your forehead against hers, "Impossible, baby."

You see Aitana close her eyes, content against you and you do the same. You realise then that football is merely a part of you and her, nothing more, nothing less. You vow in that moment to never let it get the best of you, never make you walk away. 

[theemporium]

[2k] the holidays come and go as you and max celebrate over one month of marriage. the new season is on the horizon, feelings are evolving and charles is still determined to fix the mistakes made in vegas.

series masterlist

.

“You know how you love me?” 

Pascale paused, wooden spoon hovering just above the pot she had been stirring moments ago. She hadn’t even heard you come into the kitchen, but there you stood in the doorway, an innocent look on your face that she knew well enough not to trust. 

“What have you broken?” 

Your brows furrowed together. “What makes you think I’ve broken something?” 

“You always use that voice when you break something,” Pascale retorted with a knowing look. “Like a vase or a picture frame or Arthur’s nose—”

“First of all, he broke it himself,” you huffed a little as you walked deeper into the room, pausing just beside your mother. “Secondly, I haven’t broken anything.” 

Pascale’s eyes narrowed in questioning. “So, what is it that you want?” 

Your expression grew sheepish as you wrapped your mother into a hug. “I was hoping you wouldn’t be mad that I invited Max over for Christmas Dinner.” 

Her brows furrowed together, a slightly confused expression painted across her face. “Mon cher, I’m sure Max would want to spend time with his family. It must be hard being away from them most of the season, no?” 

“There’s a storm,” you explained, your lips turned downwards. “No flights going in or out of the Netherlands. He was meant to fly out yesterday but he couldn't. He probably won’t be able to fly out until New Years.” 

Pascale’s eyes softened at the admission. “He’ll be alone for Christmas?” 

“No one should be alone for Christmas, Mama,” you murmured, puppy dog eyes and pout ready and prepared to tug on your mother’s heartstrings. And it worked. You knew it was going to work. 

It always worked. 

“Absolutely not,” Pascale huffed, shaking her head before she turned back to the pot on the stove. “Tell him he’s coming here. And tell Charles in advance so he can get his tantrum out before Christmas.” 

Your smile widened as you leaned in to peck your mother’s cheek. “You’re the best!” 

“Mhm,” Pascale hummed, though there was a hint of amusement in her voice as she shot you a glance over her shoulder. “You seem to really care for the boy.” 

“He’s my husband,” you said, playful and lighthearted and unaware of the underlying message in her words. “I’m pretty sure caring for him was in the vows, no? Unless Vegas is different. Which it might be. I don’t really remember.” 

She shot you a look.

You flashed her a sheepish smile. “I mean, I was completely sober and aware and very upset that my mother wasn’t there to see me get married?” 

Pascale rolled her eyes in response before she continued. “I just mean that it almost seems like you and Max are a true couple.” 

“Mama, how many times have we been over this?” You sighed, a little whiny as you slumped your head against her shoulder. “I promise I was not secretly dating Max Verstappen behind your back. Arthur just keeps saying that to annoy Charles and—”

“No, no, I know that,” she interrupted with a soft laugh. “I just think you have grown to care for him beyond what an accidental wife would.” 

You scoffed a little at that. “I care the normal amount for an accidental wife.” 

“No need to get defensive, mon cher, he is not better,” Pascale snorted, shaking her head with a fond look in her eyes. “But I am sure there is no need to worry about the details. Charles said he found a lawyer, no?” 

You tensed a little before flashing your mother a strained smile, trying to ignore the way your stomach dropped a little at her words. “Did he? He hadn’t mentioned anything to me.” 

Pascale had a knowing glint in her eyes but she kept poking. “Hm, maybe it was a Christmas surprise.” 

“Maybe,” you murmured, frowning a little. “No need to go through the hassle right now though. It’s the holidays. It can be sorted after the New Year.”

“Oh, of course,” Pascale grinned. 

“I’ll go message Max,” you said, straightening yourself before pecking your mother’s cheek once more. “I’m sure he will be so excited. He loved your cooking.” 

Pascale’s smile was all sweet and teasing. “That’s why he is my favourite son.”

...

.

...

“Are you sure this is okay? I don’t want to impose or—”

“You are very welcome here, Max, you’re a part of the family too,” Pascale reassured the boy, patting his shoulder with a fond smile before handing him a dish to carry out to the dining table. “We are all very happy to have you joining us.” 

“Speak for yourself,” Charles grumbled under his breath. 

“Charles Marc Hervé Perceval Leclerc—” 

“Kidding!” Charles spoke up, his cheeks flushed a light pink colour at his mother’s scolding tone. “I could imagine no better Christmas gift!” 

Pascale rolled her eyes. “Don’t listen to him, Max. He gets a lot more tolerable once he’s been fed.” 

You snorted in response. 

Charles lightly kicked you as he walked past. 

“Thank you though, really,” Max said, looking far more relaxed and at ease than he had during the first family dinner he attended, despite Daniel messaging you about how nervous the Dutchman was. “This is much better than what I had planned before.” 

“Hey now,” you spoke up, nudging your hip against Max’s as you settled beside the boy. “Jimmy and Sassy seem like excellent company.” 

Max grinned a little. “They are divas, trust me.” 

“Just like their father,” you teased. 

Pascale only smiled knowingly before handing you another dish to take to the dining table.

...

.

...

“This was a bad idea.” 

“Hi, Oscar. How are you doing? Happy New Years, by the way, since Australia is ahead and I haven’t said a word—”

“Are you done yet?” You grumbled down the phone, sitting on the edge of the bathtub as you eyed the door warily. 

“You’re the one who risked calling me at seven in the morning.” 

“It’s not seven yet,” you retorted. 

“Semantics.”

“I should have just called Logan,” you muttered, mostly to yourself than the boy on the phone—but considering the snort he let out, he heard you clear enough. “The asshole didn’t pick up his phone.”

“He’s probably lost his phone in a lake by now.” 

Your lips twitched. “Bet the crocodiles would have better advice than you.” 

“And yet, you still called me.” There was a small pause, the playfulness now replaced with something a little more serious when you didn’t laugh at his lame attempt at a joke. “What’s up?”

“I’m in the Netherlands right now,” you breathed out, sliding into the bathtub and leaning back against the porcelain wall.

“I know. You told us.”

“I’m in the Netherlands for New Years with Max,” you repeated, the emphasis on your husband’s name doing little to help Oscar realise the point you were trying to make. 

“Yeah, you’ve lost me.” 

“I–” You let out a heavy breath, your head falling back against the bath and your eyes fluttering shut. “What the fuck am I doing?” 

“Probably sitting in a bath, if you’re at least three drinks deep.” 

Your eyes snapped open, glancing down at yourself before scoffing. “Creep.” 

“I’m your best friend. I just know you. Nothing creepy about that.” 

“Whatever,” you grumbled, your fingers fiddling with the hem of your dress. 

It was nothing special in your opinion, a simple black dress you had made a few months ago with some spare fabric and an overwhelming sense of boredom as summer loomed on. Yet, Max had still gone out of his way to compliment you when he saw it, on how pretty both you and the dress were. 

You told yourself he was just being polite, but it didn’t stop your cheeks from warming at his words regardless. 

“Why are you confused?” 

“Two months ago, the most I had spoken to Max was when Charles first moved up to Formula One and we hadn’t seen each other in a few years. Now, I am married and he invited me to spend New Years with him and—” 

“You invited him to your family dinners. Twice. Once on Christmas, may I add.” 

You glared at your phone for a moment. “Not the same point.” 

“How not?” 

“Because this is New Years,” you emphasised once again. “You spend it with people you want to have in your life for the next year. You spend it with people important to you and he brought me and I am meeting his friends and—”

“I think you are severely overthinking this.”

“Well, I don’t think you are taking it seriously enough,” you retorted. 

“Are you scared about kissing him? Is that what this is?” 

You didn’t reply straight away. 

“Oh my god.” 

You huffed. “You make it seem like I am being dramatic.“

“You are.” 

“Logan would disagree.” 

“Logan isn’t here.” 

“Stupid timezones and stupid Florida,” you grumbled once again, glaring at a random spot on the wall across from you. 

“Look, do you wanna kiss him?” 

You let out a garbled noise of indecisiveness.

“You either kiss him or you don’t. It’s your choice. He’s not gonna pressure you into anything. He just wants to spend time with you. Don’t overthink it.” 

“I won’t.” 

“You will.” 

And you did. 

Even after spending a prolonged amount of time on the phone with Oscar in the bathroom, you still felt skittish and on edge when you headed back into the party. The faces around you were vaguely familiar, countless names that Max had thrown at you bouncing around your head but you couldn’t pinpoint them. Not well. 

Not that you were talking to his friends as much as you should have been doing, beyond a few sheepish and polite smiles. 

And Max had picked up on your shifted behaviour pretty quickly. Your smile had done little to soothe his concern as you took your spot next to him, letting out a relieved sigh when you felt his hand on the small of your back.

“You good?” 

“Mhm,” you nodded.

His frown deepened. “We can leave if you want.” 

But you shook your head, your smile a little more genuine this time. “No, I’m good. I promise. Just need a moment before I do another round of tequila shots.” 

This time Max smiled a little in response. 

And you couldn’t help yourself. Your eyes always seemed to wander to the time, whether it was a clock or your phone screen or the watch on Max’s wrist. Your eyes were glued to the way both hands quickly began to approach the number 12. Your whole body felt like it had been shot with adrenaline, coursing through your veins and making you so twitchy and on edge as midnight was moments away. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Max questioned as the party gathered in a crowd in the garden with the promise of fireworks luring them out. 

TEN! 

NINE! 

EIGHT!

“Yeah, I promise,” you smiled, something almost quite fond in your voice as Max stared at you, not the sky where the fireworks were about to go off. 

SEVEN!

SIX!

FIVE!

FOUR!

“I’m sorry if this is a bit much,” Max murmured with his lips pressed together. “I did kind of throw you in the deep end. I just thought it would be easier in a bigger setting rather—” 

And it made your heart soar just how sweet and considerate he was being. It made the tension lingering in your chest ease, made the shakiness in your hands stop. 

It made your decision much easier. 

THREE! 

TWO!

ONE! 

“It’s perfect, Max,” you murmured, so soft that you weren’t even sure he heard you. But you didn’t get the chance to ask as you leaned in, pressing your lips against his as the final toll of the bell rang and the fireworks began.

Despite being caught off guard, Max sunk into the kiss easily. His hand dropped to your waist, pulling the little bit closer before the eventual cheers and fireworks display made you finally pull away. 

But his eyes remained on you. 

“What was that for?” Max questioned, something written in his eyes that you couldn’t quite distinguish.

You smiled in response, shrugging. “Because you’re my husband.”

...

liked by oscarpiastri, arthurleclerc and 423,738 others

yourusername happy holidays from the verstappens!

view all 16,837 comments

charles_leclerc that's not your name. stop saying that's your name. i am so serious.

pascaleleclerc leave them alone, charles

charles_leclerc MAMAN????

maxverstappen1 when i married you, i didn't know i would be carrying you this much

yourusername are you saying i don't deserve the princess treatment?🤨

maxverstappen1 ...no?

danielricciardo don't sound too confident, mate

yourusername now i wish i posted the picture where you dropped the tray

maxverstappen1 that was not my fault and you know it

yourusername 😁

user OH MY GOD??????

user they spent the holidays together!!!!

user THEY ARE SO CUTE

landonorris it's weird not seeing him in red bull merch

yourusername tell me about it

user i cannot WAIT for next season

user do you think she will go to the red bull garage now??

arthur_leclerc charles will chain her to the ferrari garage before that happens

user i cannot cope with these two i am so obsessed

logansargeant HELLO????? ANSWER YOUR PHONE??? WTF IS THAT THIRD PHOTO???

oscarpiastri i would also like to know. answer the group chat

yourusername woah what's that? sorry can't hear you over the fireworks!!

logansargeant 😐

user can i be your new years kiss🤩

maxverstappen1 no.

user i swear they have been secretly married for years and they are playing a prank on us

charles_leclerc why would you say this

.

[m0chisenpai]

Hi, could you do a Louis x Fem!reader x Armand? Like something where they are both obsessed with her and maybe she a little oblivious even tho they give her what ever she wants. I love your others too by the way.🫶🏼

desires of the heart

˚｡⋆ louis de pointe du lac x black!fem!reader x armand

in which she has two immortals wrapped around her little finger

Author note: this sounds similarish to a loumand fic I got previously so I’m gonna build off from that one

Time in the penthouse seems to move slower. The days and nights felt blurred from adjusting your schedule to the ‘vampires’ Daniel interviews. And with each passing day, more and more do the vampires find themselves falling deeper into your heart. It is your own fault for falling for a pair of supernatural fanatics, though now they have proved their inhumane nature.

You had their own dead ones in the palm of your hand yet you remained so oblivious to it.

You find yourself spending your time less in your room and more in their company as they approach an ending. Daniel mentions during one of your dinners together that he believes them to be stalling. Louis speaks slower, finds himself struggling to remember certain parts. You only raised a brow and wondered why either of them would feel the need to drag this on longer. And Daniel wonders how someone so sharp can be so oblivious.

He wants to be irritated but as you sit across him, writing in your own journal, he grunts out some form of a response that says 'you're probably right.'

“Those books, are the older ones right?” You watch Armand hover above in the collection looking for more pictures of Claudia for your personal “research”. In your spare time you’ve begun compiling information from her journals and diaries, looking for pictures to put a face to the voice of the woman trapped in a child’s body.

“Yes, some of these are beyond your time,” he looks down at you slowly allowing himself to settle in front of you. You push your frames back up the bridge of your nose so you can properly look at the elder vampire.

“Can I see them?”

Louis watches amused from his seat as Armand holds you close to show you the books. Slowly he glides back up with you in his arms following your direction till you pick a small stack to sit with Louis and look through.

These are older photographs from his years in New Orleans. Family pictures, pictures from his childhood.

"Aw what happened to the fro? That's the cutest baby afro I have seen!" you pout as Louis pulls a family picture out. And he rolls his eyes as you pull your phone to take a picture.

"Times were different," Louis rolls his eyes and you scoff at his vague response. You page through the album carefully with gloved hands as you look at the dearly protected aged photos.

"Is that him?" your eyes settle on a duo picture, him and his brother side by side. Louis can only nod, his lips pressed in a line as you stare. In the picture his brother stands behind him, hand on his shoulder. He remembers that day fondly. They bickered on what to wear and settle on a pair of their late father's suits. "He was handsome. Definitely a sweetheart, I can tell by how he's looking at you here in this one."

When you look up at you him, you smile "I see you take after him." Before Louis can respond one of the workers has entered. Interrupting your bubble of peace. "Mr.Molloy has requested you in his room ma'am."

Armand's face immediately ices over into a glare, his response fiery. "Tell Mr.Molloy if he wishes for his help to return he can come and get them himself. She is not a dog."

"It's alright, the old fart does this all the time in the office." You go to stand stretching your arms overhead and quickly rubbing your forearms for friction. You're cold, Louis observes the goosebumps across your freckled shoulders from the slouch neck sweater you wear.

When you are are out of ear shot Louis speaks to the worker.

"Have the shoppers come in tomorrow morning for Mr.Molloy's intern. The girl needs proper clothing. My companion will be there to assist further."

Much to Daniel's distaste. you are like a child in a candy shop pointing to sweaters from Ralph Lauren's upcoming fall collection. But he hides his distaste giving you a smile when you happily show him the sweater that was 'giving Rory Gilmore but I wear it better.' Armand sits watching as you soar through racks and picking your items of choice.

You hesitate when a woman approaches holding a cases of lenses, "we offer these in prescription of course."

"Oh no these are fine."

"Pick one." Armand finally speaks up. When you look at him he is now sitting up, but the way he sits with his legs crossed, an arm draped across the back while the other rests atop his knee. His eyes a show of dominance, as if daring you to say no to him.

You settle on a thick marbled brown pair. But he stands to move in front of you, picking up a few for you to try. You try on several till you are pushing his hands away.

"The jade green ones as well as the golden wired ones for her," you grumble watching as he picks up the two for the woman to box. "We will have your prescription sent as soon as possible."

"Thank you but, this a bit much for a few days stay."

"We have no issue providing you your comforts whilst you work on the novel."

"Ok but-"

He raises a brow that silences any opposition. When you offer no more pushback, Armand places his hand on the small of your back, guiding you to the women who begin to drape you in abayas and scarves for your hair.

Daniel can only huff and look back to his laptop.

'CLEARLY three idiots in love with one another. Female is too incompetent to discern vampires obsession, affections.' He underlines idiots smirking to himself as he scribbles more notes about the three of you down.

The end of the interviews is approaching, Louis could only stall for so long. You can tell as they spend any bit of time of the days glued to your side under the guise of fact checking and clarification. You don't bring it up, you accidentally mentioned it in passing to Louis and his entire demeanor once so warm and gentle became...rigid.

He didn’t speak to you that night, but Armand was there to placate your worries.

Louis sits beside you on the couch now, in a silent way of apologizing for his emotional outburst he brings you a midnight snack. The entire time he is watching you listen and take notes. One earbud in whilst your hand pauses and moves to write at the most random of moments.

He’s eerily still with the only movement behind his eyes watching and hearing every single thing.

These days he's become more brazen in his affections. Sitting closer, allowing his hand to linger when he passes your chai, playing with the baby curls at the nape of your neck. But there is something even more intimate as he sits beside you, watching you.

"Gonna keep staring me down like a creep?"

His lips perk up, "sorry cher. Just memorizing your face."

Your fingers stop typing, your train of thought halts for a second till they both return at the steady pace you had going. You’ll give him that one, your heart did feel fuzzy. But you’ll be damned to cry in front of him.

"Can a vampire love?"

Louis shifts a bit in his seat tilting his head upward, you wonder if he is avoiding your gaze or truly in thought. "I believe we feel immensely. Everything feels...deeper. Almost too much if I am quite honest. I think that’s why so many of us choose the sleep, eternal rest from these overwhelming emotions. These feelings are magnified and beyond anything a mortal can comprehend."

Now it’s your turn to look up. "But if your entire being is dead, what is it that allows you to feel again? Your heart no longer works, your brain must not function, or maybe it does. But you are dead. How can the dead feel?"

Ah, that mind of yours. Louis loved it deeply and he will miss is dearly. His eyes flicker to his joined palms which rest atop your knee till they return on you.

"I've heard stories, seen elder vampires that lived many lifetimes take their life because of the loneliness. At times, I myself felt it. It’s the silence that kills us, but as I said before you feel it double, hell even triple than the loneliness you may feel at times. Had our feelings died with us, then I do not think they would put an end to themselves."

You nod, pausing for a moment again. To feel that much it’s scary. It must be even scarier to love. Falling in love now, heartbreak even feels like it takes over your whole body. But to feel that even more, how can anyone survive through that?

"I feel it too," you pause for a moment, "it's the worst." When Louis doesn’t respond, you blank your lack of sleep or the stress of work that leaves you open and vulnerable. “I don’t think I could survive it. Loving at least. It hurts and it’s always taking. Leaving you high and dry in the end. I don’t….I couldn’t handle that again.”

Though Louis respects your boundaries, he feels the buzz in your bones. He hears the tremor in your voice, sees the mist of tears sitting in your eyes. A desire sitting on your lips. “What do you need?” It comes out as a whisper, yet it feels so loud.

And your response is just as quiet, “can you���can you just hold me. Please, Louis.”

The laptop is shut and atop the table, and he is holding you close. Your eyes slowly fall shut as you wrap your arms back around him. He pulls you atop him and you squeeze him back hiding your face in the nook of his shoulder.

He must be shushing you or speaking but you can’t hear it, all you can do is soak this in.

You feel complete again, so whole.

[bloodied-blossom]

Killer Chat HCS!

Minor spoilers for V's Name

Small headcannon about their favorite physical touch! (Small writing to keep this active while I write angel x reader) Honestly I was thinking about which physical touch they'd be caught doing the most and these sillies came to mind! I might write little one shots based off this later!

Friendly reminder these are just headcannons!

── .✦Angel ˚໒꒱

Angel's favorite physical affection would have to be hand holding, or caressing the other's face. Softly holding you to let you know you're safe. You'll always have her by your side, that if you need her? She's right there.

She seems like the type of person to keep you close and whisper comforting words to you, like you so proudly comforted her all those times before. Rubbing her fingers against the back of your hand gently to keep you grounded or pressing feather like kisses to your forehead.

Simply reminders that she's there, she loves you.

Bonus; Favorite nicknames for you would be sweetheart, little feather, or mi amor.

______๑♡⁠๑______

── .✦Misaki ⌐╦ᡁ᠊╾━

Misaki's favorite physical affection would most probably be hugs, embraces. Wrapping their arm's around you, whether it's one around your shoulder, both around your waist or neck, anything to feel you against her. It's comfortable being able to know you're there, that you're okay.

They get anxious, so having a weight pressing against them can comfort her. Plus! Getting to be close to you like that means you two can joke around without many hearing... (but you both know you're too loud for that) She's the type of person to give surprise hugs! Whether you're busy or not, if you're in range? They'll go for the hug.

Kissing your cheek or shoulder even depending on how they hug you. Their hugs bring you a sense of warmth and comfort just as much as holding you makes them happy. They'd go above and beyond to keep you happy.

Bonus; Favorite nicknames for you would be honey, dear, something REALLY CORNY, or a play on your name! (Cherry > Cher)

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

── .✦Ronin ♱𓄋♱

Ronin's favorite physical affection was most difficult for me to place, but I definitely think grabbing. Now i get it... WDYM? Well! I feel as though he's the type of person to grab his partner's wrist, arm, hands, or even their face and either pull them closer or turn them to face him. He's not exactly the most gentle person..........

Wanting your attention, and knowing how to get it, he'd reach for your wrist or arm and pull you closer. Keeping a hand on your shoulder or your chin. I could also seeing him tugging you close by your wrist only to kiss your hand and let you go as though nothing happened.

He's never been big on vocalizing his love for you in a more sweet or gentle ways, but there are times when you two are alone where he holds your chin gently, kissing your cheek or the corner of your lips and reminding you he does love you despite his crude ways of showing it.

Bonus; Favorite nicknames for you would probably be darlin', angel, or even sugar! Idk he seems like a 'sugar' person!

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

── .✦Valentin𓂃𓆙

And finally! (Best for last hehe)

Valentin's favorite physical affection would have to be small, gentle touches such as pats or things like shoulder rubs. Walking up to you and gently kissing the top of your head, running his fingers through your hair and telling you how lovely you look today. He's definitely better with his words than touch.

Cooing at you, softly rubbing your shoulders while telling you he's proud of you, that you're doing well. Checking if you've taken care of yourself today, keeping you in a state of relaxation whenever he's close. It's a nice feeling, the placid atmosphere. If you're lucky, i think he'd nuzzle against your head, rubbing his cheek against the top of your head or against yours and then get terribly embarrassed for doing it.

Besides this, I think he'd crochet you small things rather than show physical touch. Small things from plushies to beanies or hats. Anything that makes you happy.. because to him? You look amazing no matter how you dress or accessories.

Bonus; Favorite nicknames for you would be little bird(dove), love, dearest, and possibly precious.

╚══════ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══════╝

I loved writing this! Honestly it helped me get out some stray thoughts and gave me some ideas!

Enjoy temporary food hehe

[returnofeternity]

just wanted to pop on here and say that i love your writing!! especially from your van post ^^ was wondering if you had more thoughts on van waiting for her favorite regular, can be sfw or nsfw!

thanks a lot ! <3

honestly, she's so disappointed whenever she hears the bell ring and it's not you who walks in. she's considering putting a sign outside that says "do not enter unless you're (y/n)"

she visibly perks up when you do walk in though, and i can see her face doing her cute little scrunch and her hands balling into fists when she notices you. if she's with a customer she tries to ditch them so fast so she can greet you 😭

you already know she has that movie you talked about with her last time in her hands ready to give you....she's like a cat bringing her owner something for approval. and she definitely gives you discounts or freebies she cannot afford. but you're her favorite so it's worth it

probably stocks up on things you like too. if you mention a certain figure/toy or something, she has like 10 of them on the shelf next time you go. tries to pretend she didn't even know you liked it but fails so hard. and, she's your go-to for vintage things of course! you saw this cool DVD set that's from the 70s and it isn't sold anywhere anymore? she'll find it for you, don't worry. she always gets a kiss on the cheek when she goes above and beyond <3

also i know she has the best collection of vintage porno mags.

i can see her cleaning/reorganizing things to keep her mind off you when she knows you're coming later. it's the third time she's moved things around but she's so nervous it's so adorable. also thinking of van's nervous face ticks when she's around you. her face ticks in general tbh i love how lauren portrays van so much 😭

feel like she'd take you on a date somewhere in nj where they filmed something because she's a nerd. prolly takes you on a little road trip to visit all the locations too.

+ some nsfw

eating her out on the counter before she opens up shop. public play technically since you can see through the windows, but she loves it i bet. she's been so stressed about her finances and you think she needs something to soothe her mind for the day and what's a better way than eating her out until she cums all over your face?

sex up in her room while you two watch a movie. but it's a porno, and she's mimicking the actors movements.

i have intel that van palmer wears a packer. and while you're browsing in her store, she likes to come up behind you and ask you what you're looking for, her packer rubbing against your ass.

[reminiscingtonight]

Guilty

Lia Wälti x Russo!Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

A/N: Tis the season for sequels. Featuring a lot of Kyra and Alessia and not so much of Lia

[The Thing About Families Masterlist]

You should have known better than to trust her. 

There’s a reason Steph’s always more than happy to drop Kyra off on your doorstep whenever camp’s over.

There’s a reason Mini looks like she’s gained five years every time the younger girl has been granted privileges to “babysit” her two kids. 

You have a million reasons to not trust her yet you did. 

Why did you trust Kyra with the ring?

Your knuckles are nearly white as you drag the young girl into a nearby unoccupied conference room. Kyra’s looking apologetically guilty, but a delirious haze is starting to take over you. It’s a mixture of horror and disbelief, but at the bottom of it all, you feel beyond stupid.

“What do you mean you lost it?!”

Kyra looks like she’s moments away from crying, but you can’t find it in yourself to be compassionate. You can console her later. Right now you need to get to the bottom of this and try to salvage your relationship with your girlfriend first. 

“I swear it was stashed at the bottom of my drawer but it just wasn’t there when I looked this morning.”

“Well where did you put it?”

“I never moved it! Someone must have taken it.”

You pinch your eyes shut, praying to whatever soccer gods that are above that this was just a cruel joke. This wasn’t really happening and you weren’t about to postpone all the plans you’ve spent months working on. “Kyra, I am begging you not to do this. What am I supposed to do? The dinner’s been booked! The restaurant knows I’m proposing!”

“We can get you a new one! I’ll front it, I swear.”

Forget Kyra crying, you’re going to cry. 

“Unless you’re willing to shell out five grand in the next few hours, I don’t think ‘buying me a new’ one will work.”

The young Australian’s eyes bulge out at the sound of how much you spent on Lia’s ring. 

It’s not a well kept secret that you were going to propose. You and Lia have been together for years now, married in every way except for the official one. Wedding plans have already been discussed, from venues to food to the invitation list. The last thing you actually had to do was the actual proposing and getting married parts.

Though with the ways things are going, you’re not sure you’re going to get married anytime soon. 

There’s a knock on the door but you ignore it, pacing back and forth as your mind races. There’s not really much you can do at this point. The place you got Lia’s ring custom made at is already closed at this time of day, and your girlfriend deserves something better than a last minute generic engagement ring. 

A flash of blonde enters your peripheral just as you make your decision.

“Okay. I think I’ve got a plan.”

“Oh I’ve been looking for you guys--”

“Now’s not a good time, Less,” you wave your sister off, not even bothering to pay her any attention. “Okay Kyra, listen closely because I won’t repeat myself.”

The younger girl nods, determination painted all over her features. 

“I’ll cancel the reservations. That’ll buy me a couple days.”

“Guys--”

“Less. Not a good time,” You repeat, shuffling to turn your back to her to ensure Alessia can’t interrupt again. “The jeweler still has the plans I sent him. I can probably get Gio and Luca to lend me some money, but you have to find where you stashed that ring, Kyra. It wasn’t cheap.”

“About the ring--”

“Not now Alessia!” This time your and Kyra’s voices blend together, neither of you willing to give Alessia a minute of your days. 

She lets out an offended huff and you have half a mind to just strangle her right here and now, your mother’s feelings be damned. 

Gritting your teeth you turn around, not really happy to have to find out what your sister wants. She has free reign to bother you at any minute of any day but why was she so insistent on doing so right now? “What could possibly be so important, you impatient piece of--”

You cut off suddenly, eyes doubling in size when you look down at her hands. 

There’s a velvet box clutched between her perfectly manicured nails, the tiny thing sitting there like it’s mocking you for losing your temper earlier. 

“That’s my--”

“The ring! But-- but--”

“Where’d you find it?”

“Oh god, Lessi I could kiss you, you just saved my ass--” Kyra breaks off, something clicking in her brain. “Wait, where did you find it?”

There’s a slight pause as you wait for Alessia’s answer. 

“Err… so funny story.” She blows out a breath of air, trying her best to look nonchalant. “I might have been-- actually Kyra hid…” Alessia fidgets, not liking the crease that was growing deeper and deeper between your brows. “IwantedtoprankKyraaftersheprankedmesoItooktheringthelasttimeIvisited.”

She slams her mouth shut the second the words are uttered, but no one says a word. 

An uncomfortable tension settles into the room and Alessia does her best not to wilt to the ground. 

You stare at her.

Kyra stares at her.

Alessia stares at a spot past your faces, nervously shuffling under the weight of your gazes.

There’s no mistaking icy stare or the clenched jaw that proved you caught every word of her fastball confession. 

“You… What?” There’s an edge to your voice, a tone Alessia rarely was at the end of growing up, but one that she recognizes all the same. The order there is clear, but Alessia’s not so sure she wants to repeat herself out of self preservation.

She shrinks, suddenly wishing she wasn’t so tall. “Um. Well. So Kyra hid my earrings the other day, and I, uh, I thought hiding this would be a funny way to prank her back?” Alessia cringes, not liking the way this all sounds now that she’s saying it out loud. “But judging by the looks on your faces, I’m going to say otherwise.”

Your nose flares but that’s the only response she’s given. 

Kyra looks grumpy, probably the result of taking your misplaced anger from earlier. 

You hold out your hand.

No words are exchanged but Alessia is quick to drop the box into your hand. 

Just as quick as she darts forward to do so, she jumps back, shoving her now empty hands into her pockets. 

“See, no hurt no foul, right?”

Crickets. 

That’s all Alessia hears as she nervously chuckles. 

Neither you nor Kyra have moved, faces giving nothing away. 

At least not until you call the Australian’s name calmly, eyes never leaving your sister’s.

Alessia watches as the two of you slowly peel away from each other. Her eyes keep darting between the two of you, feeling more and more like prey that’s being stalked as the seconds tick by. “Guys, c’mon–”

“Remember how I told you to play nice with my only sister?”

Kyra’s frowning. It’s probably supposed to come off frightening but she looks too much like a kicked dog for it to really do too much.

But the look on your face… yeah, that was intimidating enough for the two of you.

“Forget everything I’ve ever said. I don’t have a sister.”

Alessia gulps.

“Get her.”

She bolts.

[jaegeraether]

The Runaway - Chapter 15 (Alexia Putellas x original character slow-burn)

Jae's Masterlist

(Disclaimer: I do not speak Spanish, or Catalan, so go easy! Also, I will not apologise for how this ends..)

CHAPTER 15

ALEXIA

The stadium roared, and not in celebration. Medical staff sprinted across the pitch. The referee pulled a card. Yellow. Maybe red. The cameras zoomed in. The moment was already going viral.

Alexia was on her feet, her hands in her hair.

No! No…

“Hòstia!” Fuck! Alba startled.

On the screen, Kyra’s eyes went wide, and she froze. Jenni also froze mid-step, her usual bravado faltering for a beat. Her eyes widened for half a second before she turned to the referee, hands up. "I didn’t see her," she said in English, just before Katie – the Irish hothead – barrelled into her along with Caitlin, dragging her by the shirt into the goal.

The rest of the team got involved and even the usually diplomatic Leah Williamson had Jenni by the jersey at one point, yelling into her face.

“Si us plau, que estiguis bé... si us plau... si us plau, estiguis bé, carinyo.” Please be okay... please... please be okay, sweetheart.

“Carinyo?” Sweetheart? Alexia heard her mother’s voice sounding from the doorway. That was an issue for another time. Alexia stepped towards the TV, falling to her knees.

“Si us plau, que estiguis bé...” Please be okay... She repeated.

Alexia heard murmuring between her sister and mother behind her and blocked it out, waiting for the camera to get off the fighting and onto the Australian.

And suddenly it did. She was bleeding, a lot, but she was awake. She was sitting up. Her hand was in Mariona’s and it was trembling. Delaney held the medical pad to her head and even if Alexia couldn't see her lips, she knew the words she was saying.

“I’m okay… I’m okay..”

You’re not okay. This is all my fault.

“I tripped..”

You didn’t fucking trip.

The slow motion replay had Delaney turning when Jenni had shoved her. She’d tried to catch herself, stepping awkwardly on her ankle in the process and hitting the side-post.

“Ho sento tant...” I'm so sorry... She mumbled aloud. I’m so sorry, carinyo.

With the help of the people around her, Delaney stood and after a wobble, she tried to brush off the situation. Like she usually did. Trying to advocate for Jenni. She’d probably also be admitting a little fault in her head for passing the ball instead of just putting it through herself. It wasn't a cocky move – it was selfless – but it had been enough to enrage Jenni.

The referee wasn’t having her advocating this time, though. Jenni was sent off with a red, her own team having to escort her from the field and away from the Arsenal squad.

Delaney hobbled her way off after her, Mariona with one arm around her. She was still holding the medical pad to her head and her ankle looked even worse than before, but walking was a good sign. She went straight off the field and down into the medical rooms, the camera following her as far as it could.

The game wasn’t even a game when it restarted. The ball was passed around until the referee blew the whistle, and they all half-heartedly shook hands and walked off the field. Arsenal had crushed them. Delaney had crushed them. She’d proven her point, above and beyond. But did Jenni just end her Champions League for the year?

The broadcast ended, but the buzzing in Alexia’s chest didn’t. Silence took the room - apart from her mother’s quiet expectation behind her. She sighed, still kneeling, before slowly turning to face her. The questions were coming. About Jenni. About Delaney. And she had no answers that made any sense.

How exactly was she supposed to explain about the messy situation with Jenni, and about a woman who wasn’t even talking to her, let alone hers?

DELANEY

Her shoulder was warm, comforting and reassuring. Delaney wrapped tighter around her arm as her body tried to fight itself waking up. She wanted more sleep.

A hand ran over her hair and she knew it was time to wake.

Yawning, she stretched and released Mariona.

“You’re very cuddles-ey.”

Delaney chuckled. “I am a very touchy person, yeah. Sorry!”

“I no mind, you know this.”

Mariona gave her an easy smile which she returned. Their friendship had grown more than she thought possible over their American tour and she appreciated every second of it. 

“We’re landing?”

She nodded. “Yes, you sleeping most of the flight.”

“Oh shit, am I in trouble?”

“They come to check on you but you are okay.” Mariona flashed a thumbs up to the medical team to let them know she was awake. Her fun little interaction with the goal post wasn’t as bad as people made it seem, but it still was ruled as a concussion injury. Delaney was just annoyed that she’d almost made the full game injury-free until that moment. Now she was missing the next semi-final with Lyon and it was highly likely she’d miss the second one too. Her main concern now was making the final, which she’d already voiced.

That is – if they managed to pull off a miracle by even making it to the final. Lyon were the most successful team in Champions League history.

Shrugging off the idea, she let herself enjoy the last bit of the flight and the comfort of Mariona beside her as the two played a few card games. It was a temporary pause in a storm she wasn’t sure had passed. But once the wheels hit the tarmac, she knew it was over. There would be questions, photos, speculation. And worse – her silence with Alexia. They exited the plane to an unusual amount of paparazzi – all seemably focussed around Delaney. She kept her cap down to cover the bandage over her eyebrow and kept her sunglasses on to avoid showing the world her black eye. She didn’t care – it was all in the world of sport – but the last thing she wanted to encourage was a social media-built rivalry between her and Jenni.

She’d done what she’d needed to do and proved what she’d needed to. Mainly to herself. She was better than the negativity and hateful comments. She’d been diplomatic in the interviews post-match - and somehow the game itself - and had put the incident down to a frustrated moment on Jenni’s part, and all a part of the passionate game of football. She’d taken her own responsibility too, knowing full well that she’d been frustrating at times on the field with her own physicality and cheeky movements. But that’s how she always played. Just usually less… aggressive.

She’d taken every foul with as much grace as she’d been able to muster, even knowing that most of them came from one of Alexia’s closest friends. Perhaps more. At the start of the game, she’d managed to find the heart to look at her and assumed she’d be rewarded with a cocky expression that said, “I kissed her. She’s mine.”

But she wasn’t. From the moment their eyes met, Jenni had burned with anger. Not rivalry but loss. Like Delaney had taken something that was once hers. 

Anger like… like she’d lost Alexia from her life.

Had Alexia stopped talking to her?

She mulled over the thought only momentarily. She needed motivation to finish the season out, and being heartbroken with Alexia was enough to do that.

LATE APRIL

The next Arsenal game was against Lyon in the first of two semi-final matches. Arsenal lost 2-1 at the Emirates and Delaney was livid. They were clearly all tired from their unnecessary American tour, and now had yet another aggregate deficit to come back from. This time at Lyon’s home.

Even with their loss – the media was still focussed on their game against the Tigres. Against Delaney and whatever had happened with Jenni. She’d received another message from Alexia congratulating her for their wins and asking to talk.

She didn’t feel ready to talk to Alexia, but she did want to be near her. To hug her. To again experience that reassuring feeling of Alexia holding her — strong arms, quiet breath, steady heart. More than almost anything in the world, she craved that. The caveat being her head telling her to run, far and fast. Things happen for a reason. Perhaps this was one of those things.

And yet… she found herself watching clips of her on TV, lingering on interviews, match replays, even slow pans of the Barcelona bench. She wasn’t even sure what she was hoping to see. Maybe a flicker of the same ache in her eyes. Maybe just... Alexia. As she was.

She’d scroll past a photo on Instagram and immediately scroll back. The way she wore that navy kit. The messy ponytail. The gaze that always looked just past the camera. But there was something different now — a tension around her mouth, a tiredness in her shoulders. That familiar Alexia frown, so often mistaken for focus, but Delaney had learned better. It meant something was wrong. That she was holding something in.

Did she miss her?

In the interviews as of late, Alexia barely smiled. Her answers were short. Guarded. As if she was trying to keep herself from cracking in front of the world. It made Delaney’s chest ache.

It was ridiculous. Torture, almost. But God, that frown made her miss her. Miss the calm that came with her voice, the safety of her touch. The sense that - even if everything else fell apart - at least she had Alexia. And now that she didn’t… Well. Her heart wasn’t quite sure how to beat the same way.

As soon as she’d gotten to France, Delaney even felt the difference in proximity. Geographically, she was so, so close. She felt a stronger urge to message her back. To just reach out and make sure she was okay. Wish her luck. But she knew herself, and how slippery of a slope that was. Especially with Alexia. One conversation and she’d be right back where she started. And then something else would happen and she’d curse herself for letting her guard down. And regardless, it was practically impossible to ignore any media surrounding Alexia and Barcelona. Alexia was playing an incredible season and had once again led her team to another Champions League final. She was plastered everywhere. Promoting everything. Her management team seemed to be working overtime and Delaney had caught herself more than a few times smiling to images of her doing a commercial in adorable English or hugging a bottle of mayonnaise.

Delaney sat on the sidelines again for the second leg of Arsenal vs Lyon, this time at Lyon's home ground. She was a little grumpy at not being medically cleared, however that quickly disappeared with the success of the game. She supported from the benches as her Arsenal girls won them a surprising and hard-fought 3-1 victory over the prestigious team. The girls had shown grit, determination and exactly what Arsenal represented. Never, ever rule out the Gunners. Next up - the finals against Barcelona.

Barcelona were still heavily in contact too. They wanted her – badly. But so did Arsenal. And so did Michele Kang for Washington Spirit in the NWSL, and Delaney had a good relationship with her from her time at the London City Lionesses. In the end, she told all parties that she’d be making her decision after the Champions League final, now that they had qualified. Yet somehow, media outlets were already calling for her moving to America. How they knew she was leaning that way, she’d never know.

LATE MAY

The days blurred together with such an overwhelming schedule that a month passed in the blink of an eye. Recovery, press duties, WSL matches. All preparing for one thing: Lisbon. Delaney had more matches off than she had expected - and was eased back into it by the medical staff. Renée was clear - she wanted her for their final against Barcelona. Against Alexia, in particular. And with every conversation - the weight of it pressed heavier on Delaney’s chest. 

The closer they got to facing Barcelona, the harder it became to keep everything she’d buried below the surface. No matter how many hours she spent dissecting Alexia’s game footage with the coaching staff - every movement, every angle, every habit - she couldn’t scrub the ache from her chest. She trained hard, played harder, using the remaining WSL matches to sharpen her edge and refine the squad’s individual tactics for what was coming. By the time the Champions League final loomed, the entire team was running on adrenaline and exhaustion, boarding the flight to Lisbon with more pressure than anticipation. They arrived a day early, doing everything they could to stay insulated - together, focused, blocking out the noise and speculation that had begun to swirl around them.

They took a team walk through the city, soaking in Lisbon’s beauty - the mosaic streets, the warm air, the historic charm that buzzed throughout. Along the way, they met pockets of travelling Arsenal supporters who’d made the journey for them, loyal and hopeful despite the odds. The pre-match interviews had made it clear: Arsenal were the underdogs by a country mile. Barcelona were chasing a third consecutive title and were widely expected to claim it. They’d even dedicated the campaign to Kika, their injured teammate, vowing to bring the trophy home to Portugal for her.

Sleep didn’t come easily the night before the final. Not for Delaney, and not for Mariona either. The two of them stayed up late in their hotel room, laptops balanced on their knees, watching Barcelona’s most recent matches. They studied every movement, every pattern. Mariona zeroed in on Aitana’s rhythm and spacing, while Delaney - heart clenched, jaw tight - focused on Alexia. Her play was harder to define, fluid and unpredictable. Dangerous. And god, still so familiar.

They finally drifted off in the early hours, both grumbling at their wake-up calls which were far too early.

MATCH DAY

The day pulsed with anticipation. Nerves tangled with adrenaline as the team line-ups were released: Delaney was starting. So was Alexia. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise - she was Barcelona’s captain, after all - but seeing it confirmed sent a shiver down Delaney’s spine. Whether it was dread or something else entirely, she couldn’t say.

On the bus ride to the stadium, her phone buzzed with a single message.

Alexia: Good luck today.

No carinyo. No emoji. Just words. Simple. Careful. A bridge extended without pressure. And from Alexia - who lived and breathed competition, who’d never in a million years send well wishes to an opponent - it was everything. Delaney locked her phone and stared out the window, her stomach in knots. That message would sit with her now. Heavy. Unresolved.

And then, as they stepped out for warm-up, the world fell away - because there she was.

Her heart almost stopped at the sight of her in person.

Alexia stood on the pitch, eyes scanning the Arsenal squad entering until they landed on her - and stayed. Delaney’s breath caught in her throat. Her pulse kicked. She had half-expected her to walk over. Maybe even feared it. But she didn’t. She kept her distance, arms dangling as if she didn't know what to do with them, face unreadable except for her signature frown - the one Mariona always said meant “she misses you.”

Despite Delaney not responding, not even giving her a chance to explain.. Alexia was stayed put. She was giving her space. Respecting her boundaries.

And somehow, that made it even harder to breathe.

Delaney exchanged warm hellos with several of the Barcelona team she knew, as they came over during their pitch inspection. Familiar faces, easy smiles. A few hugs she hadn’t expected. But two figures stayed rooted in place - Irene and Alexia.

Alexia, for reasons Delaney couldn’t even begin to untangle.

Irene, likely out of quiet loyalty. She understood it, though. Just like Mariona had stayed close to her, out of quiet protection and support.

As they walked off the pitch, Delaney gently nudged Mariona toward the two Spaniards. They were all close - had shared years of dressing rooms, heartbreaks, victories. The last thing Delaney wanted was to be the reason they stayed apart.

That small act - letting Mariona go - brought her within a few metres of the pair. Close enough to feel the shift in the air.

Alexia fumbled for her sunglasses, pushing them up into her hair. Her golden hazel eyes locked onto Delaney's - sharp, stunned, unmistakably raw. Delaney saw her hesitate a step towards her. Saw the tiny hitch in her breath, her mouth opening but no words escaping.

Delaney's own feet slowed, her heart thudding. She almost didn’t speak. Almost let the moment pass. But then, softly, just loud enough:

"Bona sort avui." Good luck today.

Alexia’s expression softened, her shoulders dropping, as something unspoken sparked between them. Irene glanced between the two, her expression unreadable - like someone bracing for a conversation that never came. Mariona, did the same, her gaze flicking between Delaney and Alexia like she didn’t know whether to say something or leave them be.

But Delaney didn’t wait for a reply. She dropped her gaze and slipped into the tunnel, disappearing into the quiet of the changing room before her courage could crack.

[iluminatka16]

"From beyond the stars" Chapter 3

Chapter 2 [Chapter List]

Summary: Why it's not worth insulting the Emperor and a conversation with the main culprit of the whole Heresy, Horus.

Tags: isekai, ending up in a fictional universe, primarchxf!oc, found family trope, emperor and horus make an apperance

Warnings: mention of failed suicide attempt, cursing, typical canon violence, mention of child abuse

Word count: 2773 Edit: FOR THE LOVE OF EVERYTHIG THAT IS HOLY AND UNHOLY, I ACCIDENTALY PUT FEW WRONG TAGS, AND TUMBLR ISN'T ALLOWING ME TO DELETE THEM (*screams of despair*). no, this isn't emperor x reader fic

Unfortunately, she was not given peace of mind this time either. Before either brother had time to answer her, heavy rhythmic footsteps sounded behind them. Yelena turned toward the sound and sighed quietly. It seemed that Custodian had returned to his post. But since he was walking towards them, it meant that either they were in trouble for talking to her, or the Neoth wanted something from her.

“The Emperor is expecting you.” briefly without explanation. Of course, she could have tried to inquire, but she knew perfectly well that it would have accomplished nothing. The bodyguard of the most powerful man in the galaxy probably didn't know himself what exactly was going on. Because why share his plans with anyone? What could have gone wrong? Let's think. Ah well! All this mystery led to a fucking heresy and Neoth looking like a zombie from The Walking Dead.

“Looks like I'm in trouble. Farawell gentlemen, if I survive then I definitely need to have a chat with you.” Yelena extended her finger in front of her and moved it to none other than the primarch, after whom the aforementioned heresy was named. “Especially with you Horus.”

“Horus? I thought most baseline humans call me My Lord.”

Yelena only smiled.

The road through the golden corridors was a torture. Lack of sleep, hunger, anxiety. All this made her think she was going crazy. She had barely been here, and she had managed to insult the fucking Emperor himself and break his ban. Three times! She was not supposed to talk to the primarchs, and she talked to three of them. And also with Curz. It's a good thing the Heresy of Horus hadn't happened yet, because if she had met that version of Konrad… well, she still remembered the passage in the book about him, where he decided to murder almost the entire crew of the ship and torture the only survivor. On top of that, there was still that fucking Custodian. Not only did he not react when the Night Haunter followed her footsteps into the garden, even though the primarchs were also forbidden to go near her, but he also walked away from the site of his post-

Wait a moment.

Custodian is no ordinary soldier who simply runs away from his post to go play cards. Even if his family was dying in front of him, he wouldn't move unless the Emperor himself gave the order… THAT BASTARD.

The door to the spacious study closed behind her, and Yelena was left alone with Neoth. The man was staring at a holographic map projector of some planetary system in front of him, not even raising his eyes to look at her.

“You set me up.” Yelena didn't care about the titles at this point, feeling her rage boiling inside her. She thought that she was indeed going mad from lack of sleep.

“You said they could be saved. Testing your words was the only option. Admittedly, my plans for your first confrontation looked a bit different, but you handled everything yourself by running out into the garden. It was a matter of time before Curze followed you. From what I noticed, you are like a magnet for my sons. I was honestly surprised that none of them broke my prohibition and entered the chamber I assigned to you. But I must admit that you have done remarkably well.”

“Talking to him was "doing remarkably well"? He didn't take anything from my words, an-”

“Konrad spent the whole night talking to you.” The Emperor interrupted her, finally lifting his gaze from above the map. “That's more than his brothers accomplished in their years of Crusade together. And you managed to get him interested in just a dozen minutes of discussion together.”

“So what do you expect me to do?”

“Since you were able to get to Konrad, it should go easily with the other primarchs. You know their mentality, past and future. You know what awaits them.”

“And then what?”

“I beg your pardon?”

Yelena slowly approached the table. She didn't even think about her next words.

“Let's say I'll stop the heresy, which might be difficult, because there's a chance I'll accidentally make things worse. Great, you have your generals, you're not trapped in a golden chair, undergoing torture for ten thousand years. You've conquered the entire cosmos. What's next? Are you going to get rid of them like you got rid of the Thunder Warriors?”

Neoth slowly straightened up. Probably it was the action of his power, but Yelena felt an unpleasant shudder run through her body under his gaze. She felt so small, so insignificant. Like a bug that he could trample with his shoe. Well, and here his was a mistake. She was so familiar to this feeling, that it only fueled her rage.

“Careful…”

“Because what? Are you going to kill me?” Yelena hissed, clenching her hands into fists. “Just like you killed those who opposed you? Because so far I am the only one who knows the exact course of events of the heresy. You don't know them, otherwise you wouldn't have ended up the way you ended up in the books with the whole Imperium going to shit.”

“Don't overestimate yourself. You are not as important as you think. The fact that you're still alive is due solely to my grace. One more word and you'll end up in a cell, where I'll extract this information from you with torture.”

“Even knowing the exact course of the heresy, you wouldn't be able to stop it. Do you know why? Because you are an bad father who sees, men who blindly obey you, as tools in your Great Fucking Plan.”

After that, there was only pain. Yelena felt like her body went up in flames. Blood gushed from her nose and filled her throat, running down her chin. Suddenly standing became too painful and before she knew it, she was collapsed onto the floor, convulsing in pain. She had no idea what was happening, couldn't breathe, couldn't think. It was hard to tell how long it lasted, but suddenly everything went quiet. She was still on the floor, choking on her own blood, and standing over her was none other than Neoth.

“Maybe the world you were born into is much softer and merciful, but there are different rules here. I have killed for lesser offenses than loudly insulting me. You are weak. You are a nobody. And killing you will be like squashing an ant with a shoe.”

As if to confirm her words, Yelena felt his boot resting on her head. She wasn't stupid. She knew that he could easily split her skull, mix bones and brain. One push. That was all it took. The fact that he hadn't done it yet meant that he was giving her a chance to apologize. For her to beg for mercy.

The problem was that she felt no fear. Only rage. It was as if she was again a child being beaten by her father using his belt, trying to break her. If he wasn't able to do it, she'd sooner die than let a fucking fictional character do this. Even if she was going to die for it.

“And you're an arrogant prick whose own personality made all the perpetuals run away from him, then his sons, who loved him above life, betrayed him, and his Great Plan went to shit.”

Yelena was panting like a wild animal caught in a trap. Her eyes were wide open, and although her view was partially obscured by the man's boot, she stared ahead with almost burning gaze. Her bloody face was contorted in a grimace that she had worn more than once when dealing with bad fathers.

“I can kill you at any second, and yet you are not afraid. All I can sense from you is rage. You are filled with hatred. You say I am arrogant, yet look at yourself. Too proud to yield even in the face of death.”

Yelena did not answer him. She merely clenched her jaw, waiting for a push to fix what should have happened when she jumped off that bridge. But to her surprise, no, shock, instead she felt the pressure on her head disappear and a strong hand grabbed her arm and lifted her to her feet. Oh fuck, how painful it was. Her muscles forced to move ignited, drawing a broken whimper from her mouth.

“The pain will go away soon.”

Easy to fucking say. Yelena had no idea what was going on until someone pushed her to sit on a armchair, clearly made for the measurements of primarchs, and a silk handkerchief was placed in her hand.

“Get yourself in order.” The Emperor muttered, resting his hands on the beautifully decorated table. “You mentioned two times that… how did you put it? The Imperium went to shit. What is the fate of humanity after my sons betrayed me?”

Yelena thought for a moment about telling him to fuck off after the way he treated her, but decided she didn't feel like testing her luck any further. “Ten thousand years have passed, you are immobilized on the Golden Throne, the Imperium is attacked from all sides. It is ruled by corrupt fanatics and the Inquisition… ah yes, the Inquisition are also corrupt fanatics.” With a quick movement, she wiped the blood from under her nose and moved her handkerchief to her chin. “Chaos is attacking with new power, on top of that new enemies have appeared - Tau, Necrons, Tyranids. You almost became the fifth god of chaos, and ten thousand years of constant torture probably destroyed your psyche to the point that you were probably no longer yourself. And also they made you into a god in whose name they kill others or even themselves.”

Fucking Lorgar.

Neoth nodded slowly. “What do you expect in return for your help?”

“Excuse me?"

“You don't want to help me kill potential traitors, so I expect you to help me stop them from descending into chaos. Death threats don't work on you, so I'm asking what you want from me in exchange for your help.”

Yelena thought for a second. “First of all, nothing will succeed without your help. Be their father, even if you don't see them as your sons. Teach them about the threat from the chaos gods, explain Warp to Magnus, help Konrad with his madness. Just… take care of them. Second - when the Great Crusade is over, don't kill them. Let them live in peace, in the way they choose. Third… if you decide to kill me after all this is over, I ask that you do it quickly. Don't send me to the Astra Militarum to die there, just kill me in my sleep. So that I don't have to suffer.”

“You're not going to beg for your life? You know that I am able to make you a lord of some rich pleasure planet, or give you a place in one of my offices. Why don't you beg for it?”

Yelena shrugged her shoulders. “You will do what you think is right. I only ask that if you decide you want to kill me, that you spare me the suffering.”

“It's a deal then. I will change my attitude toward my sons, and your death will not be painful. You have my word.”

She had no idea if he was lying. He had done it many times in the books, so she could expect pretty much anything. This time, however, she did not question him. If, after what she told him, he still decided, to be stubborn, there was nothing she could do. They talked for a good hour, where she briefly had to explain to him what tyranids and tau were, but in the end, perhaps seeing that she was actually barely keeping her eyes due to the exhaustion, he took pity on her, ordering the Custodian to escort her to her chamber. Unfortunately, she couldn't have a moment of peace here either, as she was caught on the way by none other than Horus. Primarch, of course, demanded an explanation, which she refused to give him until they were both in her chamber.

“Can you explain why you insist so much that we talk in private? You run like a rabbit from me.” Horus began, watching as Yelena sat down on the bed

“Because if anyone were to hear that you were responsible for the heresy named after you, which almost killed your father, placing his almost corpse on the golden throne and led to the death of most of the primarchs, one of us would be in a lot of trouble.” The girl fixed her green eyes on him, silently hissing in pain as she moved her aching body a little deeper into the bed.

“Oh”

“Oh, definitely. The corruption wasn't necessarily your fault, but what happened next… well. The death of trillions of people, with the Imperium in shambles. Also you killed Sanguinius.”

Horus stared at her in silence. She wasn't sure if it was due to disbelief in her words, or if he simply ran out of words.

“How do I know you're telling the truth? That sounds absurd. Even leaving aside my loyalty to my father, I would never hurt my closest friend.”

“The gods of chaos make mush out of your mind. And why would I lie? It was your father who first tried to boil my blood alive and then almost smashed my head with his shoe. All because I called him out and refused to give him your name, among other things, as a potential traitor.”

Silent footsteps sounded and after a moment the mattress next to her depressed downwards under Horus' weight.

“Why did you risk so much? And if it's true… what made me turn my back on my family?”

“Well… I think each of you has a chance to avoid this fate.” Yelena took one strand of hair between her fingers, trying to brush away the dried blood that was on the tip. “Your fall to chaos was the fault of Erebus and Lorgar. You were seriously wounded in battle and a ritual was performed on your dying body. Erebus appeared to you as someone you trusted, unfortunately I don't remember the name, and showed you a vision that after the Great Crusade was successful, the Emperor would rule as a god and kill the primarchs as soon as they were no longer useful. You believed this vision, and then after talking to Erebus, you joined the chaos gods.”

“Lorgar? How long has he been a traitor? Has he already become one?”

“Has the Monarchia been destroyed?”

“No.”

“So he hasn't become one yet. I have no idea exactly where in the timeline we are, but incydent in Monarchia was actually the beginning of what I know as the Horus Heresy. Erebus, on the other hand… well, he's been a pawn of the chaos gods basically since he was a child and is currently manipulating Lorgar.”

Another moment of silence from Horus. “We need to get rid of him, but we can't openly kill him without evidence. I'm guessing that father prefers that your… origins remain a secret, so I can't use your words as evidence. I also can't attack and kill him without reason, after all he is an acolyte of Lorgar.”

“We need to talk to your brother. And actually with all the brothers. If the original heresy can be stopped, there is a chance that another of its variants will happen. From what you said, Lion is already furious with your father for giving me so much freedom.”

“Don't worry about Lion, I'll talk to him.” Horus got out of bed and walked toward the door. “You'll have a chance to talk to the other brothers, because they're all coming together for the great feast father is throwing to celebrate the tremendous victories during the Great Crusade. I, Sangunius, Lion and Curze arrived first, but from what I've heard, Magnus, Guilliman, Vulkan and Perturabo should show up in a few days. The rest will show up within a month.”

“Oh Lord…” Bonus: The collage I created for Yelena. Yes, she was a singer and performed in the theater.

Author's note: I would like to apologize for going so long without a chapter and for this one being so short. A lot has happened in my life, and college has done to me what Vulcan did to Konrad using his teleporter, which was also a hammer. In addition, the writer's block is still biting me in the ass. The plot begins to slowly unfold, and I guarantee that not every primarch will be so friendly (calling Perturapo a “manchild”? what could go wrong). Tag list: @beckyninja @athenaremo @justfreakynothingelse @lukarus @synfiction @thatnightlamp @pirateshippers-first-mate @amoelcafe12345 @zyra-7 @walking-natural-disaster @vithralith @ihasnopen @mooniequeen @kit-williams @roxygobyebye

[minarisplaything]

Going Away Present ft. Jennie Kim

pairing: Blackpink Jennie Kim x M!Reader/M!OC rating: Explicit wordcount: 3.8k summary: Being the younger sibling of a member of Blackpink meant you were constantly surrounded by temptation. When the time for you to go away to college is coming up, one member decides to give you a special gift. disclaimer: this is a work of fiction. all characters portrayed are 18+

 It was just another day when you were walking up the front steps of your parents' house, grocery bags in hand. You couldn't help but wonder why you had been sent to get something so simple. Then again, Jisoo was in town, which meant your parents probably wanted to have some private time to catch up with her. Needless to say, being the member of a popular South Korean girl band and global ambassador for multiple brands required a lot of time away from home.

Pushing the front door open with your foot, you stumbled through the doorway, trying to see past the brown bags in your arms, “A little help—?"

"SURPRISE!!!"

A loud roar interrupted you as you stepped a foot into the house. You don't know what your reaction looked like, but judging from your slack jaw, it had to be some mixture of fear and bewilderment.

"W-What's going on?" you stammered, the bags practically falling out of your hands.

"We planned a surprise going-away party!" your mum explained as she walked towards you.

The smile on her face showed that she was clearly proud to have accomplished her goal. Your shocked expression slowly settled into a small smile and look of appreciation. Leave it to her to go above and beyond with something like this.

“Mum, I don’t leave for university for another month,” you said, handing the bags over to her.

“Yes, well, your sister is only here for two weeks then she has to leave on the international tour. So we decided to do it now. Go on, enjoy yourself, sweetie."

Your smile faltered somewhat. Ah, that explained it better. You would be lying if you said you weren't looking forward to going to university to make a fresh start for yourself out of your sister's shadow. You looked around the room, briefly noting the guests. It was the usual crowd; relatives, some schoolmates, longtime neighbors, and sure enough, your sister, Jisoo, and the other members of Blackpink.

You bit the bottom of your lip as you looked at them. Damn, Jennie, Chaeyoung, and Lisa looked amazing. No, you chastised yourself, Keep it together. Pushing your inappropriate thoughts aside, you turned back to the crowd of gathered people.

"Uh, thanks a lot for coming, guys. I’m sure there's plenty of food and drink, so let's enjoy ourselves."

Luckily, you were spared standing in an awkward silence as someone took the cue to start the music, and the party began. Now you say party, but that was being a bit generous. In reality, you spent most of the afternoon going around to various groups of people, talking and thanking them for coming. The questions were mostly the same: What university will you be going to? What will you be majoring in? How far is it? Have you thought about life after university and so on. It was exhausting, really.

Eventually, you worked your way to the backyard where the members of Blackpink stood gathered. Oddly enough, you had known them almost better than you knew anyone else at the party. In that sense, you couldn't help but be relieved when you finally made it to them.

"He's so grown up!" Chaeyoung squealed as you walked over. "I remember when he was eye level with me."

An embarrassed grin crossed your features as you stopped in front of them. Seeing them so often going through teenage years was never easy and often led to you excusing yourself to your room. At least now you could control yourself...mostly. Chaeyoung, or Rosie, was right though. Where you had once been eye-level and even shorter than her, you now towered over her.

“Ah, I never thought I’d see this day,” Jisoo said dramatically, moving over and wrapping an arm around you. “I was sure he’d drop out of school or something before university.”

The girls laughed as you shrugged her off, “Don't let mom and dad hear you saying that,” you teased looking over at her. "Besides, we all know I'm the brains in the family."

“Does that make me the talented one?”

The others laughed at the display of sibling bantering, and you couldn't help but join in. At moments like this, it was easy to forget just how famous she actually was.

Wearing a slight grin of her own, Jennie Kim moved towards you, wrapping an arm around your neck and standing to the side, “Be nice, Jisoo-unnie, it’s a special day for him,” she said before leaning up to give you a kiss on the cheek. You could immediately feel your face start to redden and hoped the fading sunlight in the yard was enough to mask it. “Plus we have a special way to send you off later.”

You raised your eyebrows curiously. Jennie had always been your favorite among your sister’s friends, something you were sure they secretly knew but didn’t want to embarrass you by pointing out. The idea of a special send-off from her had already sent your mind down an optimistic path. Something Jennie seemed to pick up on as her grin grew.

“Get your mind out of the gutter! It's just a nice club downtown. Especially since you’re old enough to drink now.”

Not exactly the special gift your dirty mind had hoped for but you'd take it. Besides, there were people around the country who would kill to be in your position right now.

“Sounds perfect. This is a nice party and all but there's only so much excitement a going-away party thrown by your parents can have.”

“Don't worry, you’ll have plenty of excitement later,” Jennie winked at you, causing Jisoo to hit her playfully.

“Yah! Stop giving my baby brother the wrong idea!” Jisoo protested.

“Who said it's the wrong idea," Lisa chimed in, a mischievous look on her face, "We might find him a nice girl for the night."

"I'm not listening to this," your sister comically stuck her fingers in her ear.

A round of laughter broke out as Jisoo comically covered her ears. Undeterred, you looked around the yard before returning to the girls, "So when are you guys taking me out for this magical night?”

“Be ready by eleven. Lines aren't exactly an issue for us,” Jennie spoke up first.

You nodded, of course. Benefits of being famous and all.

“Sounds good. You’ll see us all then.”

You hesitated for a moment before leaning down to place a quick peck on Jennie's cheek. This, of course, caused teasing ‘oohs’ and ‘awws’ from the group. You walked away without looking back, but over your shoulder, you could hear Lisa talking as her gaze stared you down.

“He hasn’t even gone off on his own yet, and he’s making man moves.”

The rest of the party went as it had before your run-in with your sister and friends, which was to say boring and dull. Not that it was any fault of their own. It was hard to focus on casual conversation when your mind was already thinking ahead to going out to a club with Jennie, Chaeyoung, and Lisa. And Jisoo as well, you supposed. Eventually, your parents were seeing everyone out, and you were able to slip away to get prepared for the night. Despite not being active in the nightlife scene, you felt compelled to look your best tonight.

It turned out Jennie hadn't been lying. After picking you up, you took a taxi to some club in the heart of the nightlife district. Even with yourself looking terribly out of place, you walked right in and were guided to a table in the VIP section. It was surreal, really. And while you recognized that for many, simply a night at the club with Blackpink would be a dream, your mind couldn't help but wander back to Jennie's words and hope for more.

After a few shots and celebratory toasts, the party was well and truly underway. You could feel yourself starting to loosen up, and whatever nerves you might've had beforehand began to fade away. Time seemed to flow at its own pace, and you were a passenger to its whims.

“I still can’t believe you guys just get VIP tables like this,” you leaned over to say to Jennie, who sat to your right.

“It’s one of the perks of the job,” she replied with a smile before sipping her current drink. “Do you want another?” she pointed to the bottle; you shrugged and held your glass out.

“Jennie! I’m going to go use the bathroom, Chaeyoung is coming with me,” Jisoo shouted over to you.

Her bandmate gave an affirmative response, leaving you alone with Jennie and Lisa. Your thoughts began to wander once again, but before you could work up the courage to act on any of them, you heard a voice calling out to you.

"Do you dance?" 

It was Lisa, leaning over the couch towards Jennie and you. 

Feeling your nerves suddenly come back, you stammered, “Well uh, not too often I can’t really say—"

Jennie's laughter filled your ear, "Just come on!" 

She placed her drink down and took one of your hands while Lisa grinned and took the other. Together they guided you from your booth to an area to dance. Which, while not as crowded as the main floor, was still packed. Jennie easily found you a nook to slide into. She turned around, looking up at you as she pressed her body close to yours and began moving to the electronic beat without a moment's hesitation. Similarly, you could feel Lisa pressing against you from behind, sandwiching you between the two women.

If this was your gift, you could die a happy person.

"Take a deep breath," Jennie says soothingly, her hands rising above her head as she moves effortlessly to the music. Was is that obvious? You try to follow suit, but your body remains rigid despite your best efforts to loosen up. She turns towards you, pressing her backside against your crotch, and you feel waves of pleasure course through your veins.

Without warning, she takes your hands and places them on her hips, leaving them there as if daring you to move them. As you stand frozen in shock, wondering if this is an invitation or not, Lisa wraps her arms around you from behind. Her fingers trace intricate patterns against your skin as she moves to the music.

"Oh fuck..." you muttered, hoping the music masked your comment from their ears.

The singer continued her moves, even going as far to ratchet it up as she slid down using your body as if it were a stripper pole. As a result it also caused your hands to move from her hips to where her breasts were. Unable to help yourself your fingers flexed, feeling the mounds concealed by her tight top.  As if spurred on by your actions her ass rotated, rubbing directly into your crotch over and over again. 

“Noona...Jennie...” you tried to warn but your words were lost in the stereo music as she continued to dance.

You could feel yourself beginning to grow hard but could do nothing to stop her as she moved to the song. Every now and then her arms would wrap around my neck, pulling you down ever so closely only to release you and resume grinding against you in various ways. To add on to that you could feel Lisa's body pressed firmly against mine from behind. Whether either girl sensed or felt what was stirring they didn't let it stop them.

“Ssh, enjoy yourself,” Jennie cooed over the music. 

And you were. Very much so in fact. 

After all, who wouldn’t be in this position? Jennie Kim was rubbing her fit ass against your crotch as she danced to the music to the point where it felt like she was giving you a private lap dance. Meanwhile, Lisa was letting her hands roam over your body as if she was worshiping your form. No one in their right mind would want this to end. 

It was only when Lisa moved from around you and began to dance with Jennie in front of you that you finally felt like you were in danger of doing something embarrassing. As intoxicating as the sight was, it wasn’t worth ejaculating inside your pants in front of them. Mustering what willpower you had, you forced yourself to take a step back, whispering a brief excuse. 

“Sorry, ladies, I need to take care of something.”

Before they could turn around to question you on the matter, you made my way through the crowd and made a beeline for the restroom; oblivious to the knowing looks and devilish smiles that the two women exchanged. 

“Fucking hell,” you grunted as you stumbled into a bathroom stall.

You braced yourself against the sides, taking deep breaths as you tried to compose yourself. Which was easier said than done when your cock was painfully hard. As tempting as it was to jerk off and relieve yourself, there was no way you were doing that in a public stall. That seemed like you’d be asking for some kind of infection.

No, no. You just need to take a few minutes, regain your composure, and then you’d go out there and pick up where you left off.

“They were just teasing me. No way that was serious…” you muttered to yourself. “But still…”

What if they weren’t just teasing? What if this was your chance to make a move? If their dance moves were any indication they were feeling it just as much as you were. And it was your birthday after all. Stranger things had happened before, right? Probably. 

Thinking about your plan, of the potential of success, didn’t exactly help quell your excitement but at least you weren’t sporting an aching bulge ready to tear through your pants. You left the stall, went to the sink and splashed some water on your face. With a look in the mirror you set your determination and made your way back to the dance floor.

When you didn’t spot the girls you made your way back to the VIP area where you saw Jennie sipping on her drink and looking at her phone.

“Hey,” you called out.

“There you are,” her eyes lit up as she looked up at you. 

“Decided to take a break?”

“Something like that.”

“What happened to Lisa? The others?” you asked.

Jennie leaned back, crossing one leg over the other. The tight dress she wore rode up her thighs, giving you a delicious sight, “Oh, she had something to take care of. I think your sister and Rosie are off dancing the night away.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, trying to remember your prior pep talk, “I guess it’s just the two of us.”

Jennie, meanwhile, wasn’t lacking confidence at all. She practically oozed it as she leaned forward, resting her elbow on one of her knees and placing her chin in her hand. She looked as though she could devour you with a single word and honestly, you would let her. 

“It seems that way,” she cooed, “I was actually thinking of getting out of here…” 

Your eyes went wide but you hoped you continued your composure otherwise, “Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” Jennie raised her hand to her mouth in what you guessed was a faux yawn, “I’m feeling exhausted. I guess I can’t party the same way I used to.”

This was it. Your chance.

“I can take you home if you want.”

A wicked grin crossed her features. 

“Jisoo always said you were well-mannered. I’ll text the girls and tell them we’re heading out.”

LATER THAT NIGHT…

Your back crashed against Jennie’s door and her lips were immediately on yours.

From the moment you had entered the cab to get back to her place it had felt like a fever dream. Her hand had teasingly run along your thigh the whole ride and at one point her lips had found their way to your neck.

Once you had arrived and stumbled into her apartment, she was all over you. No more suggestive touches with hidden meanings, no more coy flirtations. Her lips were on yours while her hands grabbed at your body. It was exhilarating and overwhelming all at once. Despite not drinking more than that initial shot, your head was spinning. This was happening. It was somewhat fortunate that you didn’t have time to overthink it at all.

Jennie’s hands gripped at your shirt, quickly undoing the buttons and pushing it over your shoulders. Next her hands moved to your belt buckle, her teeth biting at your bottom lip as she looked up at you with a sex-crazed gaze.

“I didn’t give you a gift at your party did I?” she asked.

“I-I don’t think so,” you moaned, feeling her hand slip into your pants to grip your cock.

“Then consider my pussy your graduation gift,” Jennie said, “Or a going away present. Whichever you want to call it.”

Her words made your head spin to the point all you could do was nod dumbly. Jennie had a wicked smile on her features as she reached down, pulling your pants and boxers away to expose your aching erection. An erection that you’d been dealing with practically since the club.

“I was wondering what it looked like,” Jennie cooed. “You know, Lisa and I were taking bets on just how big it was.”

“You were?” the thought caused your cock to jump in excitement.

“Mhmm.” Jennie bit her bottom lip as she reached down, her fingers curling around your shaft. “She’s going to be jealous that I got to you first you know. You’d split her in half with this.”

The combination of Jennie stroking your cock and the image of plowing into Lisa was enough to make you more than ready to receive your gift. Something Jennie must have realized as well as you heard her let out a giggle. She rose to her feet and turned, briefly giving you a view of her ass in the tight dress that hugged her fit body.

The view became even greater when she bent over, reached under her dress and slowly pulled her panties down her thighs. She looked over her shoulder, watching your face as she stepped out of them. Briefly you wondered what it’d be to get a lap dance from her. An idea to hope for in the future maybe.

“You can take these with you when you leave,” Jennie winked.

She placed the panties on top of the desk before looking back at you. She hitched up her red dress, revealing her bare ass and exposed pussy to you. If it weren’t for the fact that all the blood had already left your head and gone to your cock, you might’ve fainted on the spot.

“Fuck…”

“Come on then. Come enjoy your gift,” she said. She wiggled her ass as she invited you to close the distance in the hallway and take her.

“Do I need a condom?” you fumbled.

Jennie laughed and shook her head, her hair sticking loosely to her already sweat-covered body, “Don’t worry about that.”

She didn’t have to say it twice. The thought left your mind and you closed the distance between her and yourself. One hand took hold of your cock, lining herself up at her dripping entrance. You paused for a beat, etching the visual into your memory banks as you finally slipped inside of her. To say you had fantasized about your sister's bandmates before would be an understatement. In that sense, this was a dream come true. But even those dreams couldn't compare to the real feeling of Jennie's tight walls squeezing around your cock.

"Fuck, that's it, baby," Jennie moaned, bracing herself with one hand against the wall.

Slowly you buried inch after inch inside of the pop star until your hips were flush against Jennie's ass. As much as you wanted to savor the moment, the desire to fuck your long-time crush was far more overwhelming. Jennie was clearly ready for you to start given the way she ground her ass against you, imploring you to start thrusting immediately. You obliged her, slipping your cock out before filling her to the hilt once again and again.

"Fucking hell," you grunted.

"That's it. Fuck me, Baby" Jennie urged, moans falling from her plump lips.

As you gained a rhythm she began to meet your thrusts with her own movements. Your hands moved to her waist, squeezing gripping her tight as you fucked her. It was hard enough to make sure that there would be marks there tomorrow morning but not enough to cause any discomfort. In fact, judging from the moans of encouragement Jennie let out, she didn't seem to have any complaints.

"Harder," she gasped.

"Yes ma'am."

Every time you entered her from behind it  resulted in her perfect ass smacking against you, filling the room with the sound of skin slapping against each other. Jennie clawed against the wall as you pistoned your cock inside of her faster and faster, drawing out both of your pleasure. And it was good. Incredible even. Each thrust inside of Jennie was better than the last, far better than anything your imagination could have come up with. 

It was safe to say that the continued feeling of her pussy tightening around your cock far surpassed late nights with your own hand. The only problem was that you knew that it wouldn't last forever. That sooner rather than later you'd be emptying your balls inside of Jennie Kim. Or maybe she'd let you finish on her face.

"Fuck!" you gasped, cock twitching at the thought.

"Does it feel good, baby?" Jennie cast a glance over her shoulder. Her dark hair was sticking to her forehead, her cheeks flushed red, "You don't have to hold back for me. Let yourself go."

"Jennie-- " you warned, desperately.

All you could focus on was the feeling of Jennie's pussy, the desire to fuck her harder, and the looming inevitable release that was growing closer and closer with each thrust.

"I'm--Fuck. I'm going to--" you gasped.

You didn't have time to finish your sentence as Jennie slipped free of your grasp. Before you knew it she was on her knees in front of you, her mouth open and tongue sticking out as she stroked your cock furiously. One look at that sight and it was well and truly over. Your balls tightened, your pent up release spewing all over the pop idol's face. Your cock twitched in her grasp, ropes of your seed splattering her features. You had seen Jennie a lot over the years, but you had never witnessed her like this.

"Jesus christ..."

When it was all said and done you were exhausted and utterly spent. As your cock finally began to soften, Jennie ran a manicured finger over her face, scooping up a wad of your cum and sucking it clean off her fingers. When she looked up at you she seemed as satisfied as you felt.

"Congratulations again on graduating," Jennie said, a wicked smile on his lips. "I can't wait to see you when you come back for break."

BUY ME A COFFEE - if you enjoy my stories considering buying me a coffee! always appreciated, never required.

[rosie-artz]

DoomGuy X Gn! Reader

Summary: basically comforting the Doom man because he's been through it honestly fr.

Authors note: I've literally never written fanfiction in my entire life, so sorry if this is shit and uh.. if there are any spelling errors there's no excuse it's all on me im just a dumb fuck lol ENJOY!

(warnings: mentions of Flynn's past, blood, death, and gore.. though hopefully you know that given this is the doom universe... takes place sometime during eternal you can decide when and flashback is in italics by the by)

look at his fucking eyes he's so pretty oh my fucking god

At the doom fortress, above the place you used to call home you sat at the desk that was in the main room, a small lamp lighting the work space as you tinkerd with one of the Slayers shoulder canons, it had been damaged when an Imp had gotten a bit too close, it's claws had damaged the weapon beyond use causing it to not properly fire, so being the mechanic that you are you'd offerd to work on it while he did his missions and seeing that he was busy most days with the whole saving the world deal, you had gladly helped him where you could.

It was the deal you both made after he found you on earth when you had nearly became another victim of the demonic plauge when a Pinky had nearly ripped open your stomach with it's claws, he gave you a place to stay while you fix up either his equipment and or the fortress itself when he couldn't and was busy ripping and tearing the demonic forces of hell (which was most days.)

Headphones sat atop your head as you carefully screwd a bolt into the cold metal, music softly played blocking any sound from the outside world, unbeknownst to you, the portal behind you came to life as the Slayer stepped into the base. Armor coverd in blood and his body slightly trembling, the mission had gone good as they usually would, though as he stood there his body shook with heavy breaths and his mind racing as the memories of today rushed back at him at top speed.

It had been a pretty simple mission, destroy a gore nest that had gotten a bit bigger than a normal nest would making him take nearly two days to fully clear it out, though that wasn't what was wrong with him, why he felt like every breath he took was getting harder and harder to get out, why his hart felt like it was simultaneously going to beat out of his chest or if it was going to dead stop if he was overwhelmed with one more thing.

The air was heavy as Flynn made his way through the blood soaked ground, buildings that were either completely demolished and or left barly standing litterd the area around him, flames that had probably been buring for days danced around casting wild shadows and the bodies of demons laid broken and unrecognizable on the floor. As he came to a stop Vega's voice softly rang out in his helmet, "another job well done sir, the gore nest is now 100% cleared, I am not finding anymore life signals from any demons near by, I will have a portal ready for you shortly." A huff came from the Slayer as he put his shotgun away. His muscles slightly aching from the long nearly two days of nonstop fighting demons and running around to grab extra supplies to bring back to the base. Looking around at the apocalyptic scean around him he couldn't help but let out a soft sigh of disappoint, so many lives needlessly gone, so many families broken, mindlessly he began pacing around as he waited for Vega to open a portal back to base where you would no doubt be working on something when he got back.

Though his heavy footsteps came to a stop as he saw something out of the corner of his eye, turing his head to see what is was he felt his breathing come to a stop and his body froze. There, in a pile of broken rubble and glass, is where two corpses laid on the burned ground, a woman and her child that the mother held closely to her chest even in death.

The Slayer wobbled slightly as he took a step back from the sight, his eyebrows knitted together as he sharply turned around just as Vega's voice came through again and a portal back to the base. "the portal is up and.... Sir are you alright? your stress levels are rising more than usual, should i contact-" the slayer let out a low growl of frustration before the ai could complete his sentence, " understood" Vega said before going silent as the Slayer stomped towrds the portal that lead back to the base, back to you, back to home.

His breathing uneaven as a swirl of emotions ran through him and memories of who he was before he became the dreaded Doom Slayer hit him like a semi truck, when his wife, child and rabbit were brutally take from him, not even getting to say a goodbye to them or give them a proper burial. Flynn's hands squeeze into fists as his body shook and almost struggled to stand and walk with what felt like he was getting whighed down by a thousands of planets as he made his way into the glowing blue and black swerling portal.

Looking around slowly his dark eyes caught sight of you at the desk where he'd find you working most days, swallowing harshly he made his way over to where you sat in the chair, he eyed the headphone's that laid on your head and could hear the music faintly over the quiet buzz of the energy that ran through fortress as he came to a stop right behind the chair you sat in.

As you finished up the last part of the shoulder canon you let a soft sigh fall past your lips as you gently set the weapon down and sat up straight, your back slightly popping in the process from the long time you sat curled over working on the peice of machinery, leaning back in your chair with a soft sigh, a sudden feeling of being watched hit you like a brick,

as you squint your eyes your hands made their way to take off the headphones when a sudden hand on your shoulder made your eyes widen and blood go cold, letting out a sound of surprise you quickly turned around and the hand that was on your shoulder a second ago gently let go as you took the headphones off and swung around in the chair to face whoever was behind you, though you had a feeling you knew exactly who that person was.

your eyebrows furrowed in slight frustration as the green armor came into view and looked up to meet the blue visor, "Hey! I told you not to..." your voice slightly trailed off before, as you saw the look in his eyes, softly you spoke up again the annoyance that was on your face a second ago was now gone and replaced with concern for the man, "Flynn?.." you whispered his name softly.

Looking up at the man, behind the transparent blue screen of his helmet, his eyes were heavy and his body shook with every breath he let out as he stood there silently, his eyes locked to the floor as his fist clench as if that was the only thing holding him back from breaking down, frowning you stay seated as a heavy silence fills the air.

You swallowed as you go to speak again, "are.. are you oka-" but before you could ask, his knees gave out beneath him, a loud bang coming from his weight that echoes through the entire fortress, hell you could've sworn the whole base shook when he did that, he came to kneel on the floor in front of you, his head hung low and eyes stayed casted down to the floor, going quiet you stared down at the behemoth of a man that had been known to tear through hell, an unbreakable sign of strength now reduced to what looked like a man that was just.. broken and tierd, his breathing gradually became more uneasy as his hands shook.

Quietly you moved forward the wheels of the chair rolled softly as your hands hesitantly moved up to the edge of his helmet, your fingers gently hooked under the equipment and you waited for him to pull back or give you any indication that he didn't want his helmet taken off, but he just sat there, the same heavy uneven breathing coming from him as he stayed still and silent.

Delicately you romoved the piece of equipment, a soft hiss left the metal as it came off and you lean back, placing it gently behind you on the desk before turning back to look at him, he never looked up as he shook violently, you wanted to speak, ask him what was wrong, but after knowing the man for half a year words were few and far between, maybe a small conversation here and there but most times it was a comfortable silence between you two, and really by his actions it wasn't hard to tell when the man was mentally spent and was at the end of his rope, though rare the man was still human after all.

with a soft sigh you hesitantly raised your hand to his short messy dark brown hair and started to gently run your fingers through the surprisingly soft strands, you could feel him still slightly, his breathing pauses as he felt your hand meet his head, he swllowed and his hands clenched tighter before slowly relaxing and his eyes closed as his body leaned slightly forward.

His head came to rest in your lap, arms coming around to wrap around your waist, his natural wight plus the armor that added more to him kept you seated on the desk chair as he slowly but surly calmed his breathing. leaning back you softly frown as you held him, the man who didn't have a choice but to save the world from the demons of hell, the man that humans and demons feared, the man that was broken time and time again but yet still fought for the innocent without even a thank you or a second thought.

you close your eyes for a moment, a soft sigh leaving your lips before looking out the giant windows of the fortress, the shining stars litterd the outside as the blue orb that you would hope to one day call your home again spun gently below the base, your gaze falls back down to Flynn who was slowly relaxing in your touch as you softly scratched his scalp, the scars on his face speak more than words could ever, the poor man had been through hell and back (literally) just so that humanity could live to see another day.

And for hours you and the Slayer sat in silence as he kept his head in your lap while you gently played with his hair as the time slowly passed by, the heavey atmosphere turned to one of calmness and for once the Slayer of the demons relaxed in your hold, because god knows the poor man needed a break sometimes.

though the both of you will defnitely will need a shower later, the smell of demon guts isn't the best type of cologne

✨️End✨️

i have no idea if i'll ever write again after this lol, any way back to drawing✌️