#anyone else and she WILL wrestle you about it and you will not win

[heliosynchronisity]

Huoyan loves Gale too but is terrible at responding to all the very forward comments - she's an easily flustered one she is

also considering how many of the playable races are small-size, i need scenes where the love interests pick them up to hold them at eye height, just one, please. There is so much potential XD

[damiansgoodgirll]

 hi, can you please make a story where reader is young like 19 or 20 and everyone loves her and she’s a pretty close friend with basically everyone in the wwe and one day she has a match with like Nia or someone else and she gets injured so bad that everyone around her is worried sick.? maybe she has a closer feeling with the judgement day or Jey but like if you can mention more wrestlers it would be amazing. Thank you so much. I love your writing 

i love this type of requests cause it makes me travel back in time when i was 13 and i used to play wrestling with my best friend (don’t do this at home) and i remember everyone loving me…anyway

sorry for making nia the bad one!

the judgment day x reader (platonic) / jey uso x reader (platonic)

home is where you belong

you never thought you would find it but you did. the place where you felt safe and loved, the place that you called home.

you’ve been wrestling since you were fifteen and once you got eighteen wwe signed you in. two years later now you were living your dream;

travelling from city to city, having sleepovers with your wrestling friends, gossiping about what people you shipped together, talking nonsense with seth rollins and having becky teasing him, watching and learning new techniques from jey uso, training with the judgment day.

everything was a dream for you.

the fans loved you. even if they weren’t fans about your character, they still liked your persona and your positive energy. you had no enemies, you pretended of course, but you had no enemies at all.

many elders took you under their protective wing and you couldn’t be more grateful.

you we are currently training with rhea as you had a big match against nia and you wanted to be ready. you both already knew that the judgement they were gonna help you win this match because, according to the script they had to ruin this moment for you and for nia, but you didn’t care because you knew how fun it was going to be.

so you were ready to kick her ass.

nia, otherwise, wasn’t as happy as you thought. the idea of losing against some teenager like you made her blood boil. she was more experienced than you so why would you had to win? plus, by getting helped by the judgment day?

she didn’t like the idea but she didn’t tell you.

she had something else in mind.

so you were getting ready, your make up flawless, your hair perfectly posing over your shoulders and a smile that could make happy anyone who met you.

you were so ready.

you heard the “boos” when nia entered the ring and you heard everyone cheering for you when you entered. that’s how it was supposed to be so why did she have an envious look in her eyes?

you pretended it was nothing and you started the match as it was supposed to go.

ten minutes later, the judgment day music echoing through the arena, just like the script said.

rhea distracting nia.

following exactly what the script said.

so what did go wrong?

nia attacked rhea. it wasn’t in the script but rhea knew how to handle situations like that.

you could tell by damian’s look that this wasn’t supposed to happen but you took it as an opportunity to distract nia and make your final move, move that made you win that match.

earlier on the schedule but still, you had your win.

“someone beat your ass…” rhea screamed into the microphone, unleashing mixed reactions through the crowd. everyone cheering for you because of your win, not everyone was happy with the way you won but still, you better than nia.

that set her off.

she didn’t like the idea of a teenager beating her but she hated even more the way the crowd laughed at her face, making her seem weak, not strong enough.

the judgment day were leaving the arena, just like the script told them to do after your victory, so what didn’t go as planned?

you were still in the ring, fans clapping for you, the referee still held your hand high and as you were about the leave, nia hit you behind your back.

this wasn’t prepared.

you fell to your knees and before you could do something she dragged you through your hair into the middle of the ring.

“nia?” you said almost too terrified.

the referee tried to get into the two of you but nia pushed her away, hurting her.

“who do you think you are?” she said hoovering you with her body.

“nia what?” you weren’t understanding. why was she doing that? she was your friend, she wasn’t supposed to hurt you.

“don’t act so dumb…” she whispered before attacking you.

for real this time.

nothing prepared.

she was really hurting you. your face first, then your stomach, she kept hurting you, punching you over and over until you couldn’t feel your body anymore.

your head and nose were bleeding.

referees weren’t able to stop her either.

rhea and damian were the first one to intervene when they saw that the referee couldn’t stop her.

rhea attacking her, the referees, trying to get between the two of them, so damian so that as an opportunity to shield you with his body. he could handle nia attacking him.

“damian?” you almost cried.

“hey…shh it’s okay, i got you” he said, slowly moving your hair out of your face and it was in that moment that he saw your bleeding face.

“dam…it hurts” you said clenching your stomach. he felt his heart breaking. the way you were clenching your chest, the way your hands trembled a little, your bleeding face and your eyes full of tears.

he was mad. furious.

“i know…ssshhh…we will take care of you i promise” he whispered.

the crowd was cheering, assuming everything was scripted, but there was an uncomfortable silence going behind the scenes.

everyone watching what was happening in horror.

becky had tears in her eyes and seth was trying to keep her and himself calm because he was mad. cody was speechless. jey ran out of his locker room just to be stopped by the security. dom and finn paralysed in their steps as they were watching everything happening right before their eyes.

that’s what it went wrong.

thankfully, rhea and referees were able to drag nia away from the ring. she knew she went too far but her pride was something she wasn’t willing to give up.

damian was still in the ring with you as medical staff came and assisted you.

you already fell unconscious when damian lifted you up in his arms and dragged you down onto the stretcher waiting for you backstage.

you were rushed to the hospital and honestly no one felt like continuing the show but they had to. jey was next but all he wanted to do was rush to the hospital and stay by your side.

you didn’t even realised that when you woke up you weren’t in some hotel room but you were in a hospital bed. your head still pounding when you remembered what happened.

the doctor told you that you had a few broken ribs, a dislocated shoulder,a broken wrist, a sprained ankle and a heavy concussion. not to count all the bruising and red spots forming all over your body.

then what you didn’t want to hear : no wrestling for at least four months.

your body needed to rest and heal first.

you were trying to hold in all the tears but eventually let them out when the doctor left your room. you were supposed to have your first main event at wrestlemania and now that dream was gone.

while still crying a soft knock echoed through the room.

damian first, then rhea with the rest of the judgment day.

“hey…” she whispered but her heart broke when she saw the tears in your eyes “why are you crying pretty girl?” she asked sitting on the chair next to your bed, followed by the boys who sat on the small couch right beside the window.

“bye bye wrestlemania…” you said with a broken voice.

everyone knew how much you’ve been waiting and wanting that moment.

“i’m so sorry y/n…” she said softly.

“its just it’s not fair…” you whispered “why did she do that? i thought she was my friend…i would have never done that to her rhea…never”

“i know love…because you know your value, you’re kind and sweet and loving and unfortunately you’ve met someone who thought about her ego and her ego only…” she said smiling sadly at you.

“what matters now is that you rest and take your time to heal” damian joined the conversation “you scared everyone back there…” he said making you smile a little.

“i didn’t mean to…”

“we know…or you could tell them that yourself” finn joked.

“what?” you whispered.

“everyone’s here…jey almost punched the doctor when they wouldn’t let him see you” dom laughed “becky is here with seth, cody and shayna are here too…girl you even scared gunther”

“i don’t believe it…” you laughed.

“we can make you believe that” jey said entering the room with a beautiful bouquet of red roses. everyone followed him too.

you were relieved in seeing so many people caring for you in a way not even your friends cared about. you felt loved and appreciated.

you’ve spent the next hour talking nonsense with them all and you almost forgot about the wrestling problem thing.

almost.

when everyone left for your check up with the doctor, the only one who stayed was jey.

he was the only one who noticed the shift in your mood and he knew what was like staying away from what you love do the most, so if you needed a shoulder to cry on, he was willing to do that, if you needed a friendly advice, he was willing to do that too.

“care to tell me what’s on your mind sweetheart?” he asked when the doctor left.

“i’m going to miss all of these…four months of not seeing you all days, no wrestling, no wrestlemania and probably no summerslam too…it’s just, i feel useless and empty not doing what i love jey” you confessed.

“you’re not useless at all, and it’s normal to feel nostalgic right now but it’ll pass and i promise you that you’ll be on your feet for when summerslam comes! i promise you” he said sitting next to you and wrapping his arm around your shoulder - the healthy one - “i wish i could have done something to stop her but i was the useless one…i hated seeing you in so much pain…she lost her mind and finally she lost her job too”

“what?” you whispered.

“yup! got fired…you know you could sue her right?” jey asked.

“i would never do that…”

“i know…you’re too kind for that…what she did was wrong and completely unacceptable but i’m glad you’re here…” he said softly kissing your head.

“ill be here for a long long time…this is my home after all” you smiled, making jey laugh too.

and it was in that moment that you truly realised how important those weird people were for you, and how important you were for them.

[awritessomething]

𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭 | brock purdy x fem!reader

requests

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | after the loss at the Super Bowl, Brock is understandably mad. His wife is there for him.

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | smut, pre-established relationship, use of Y/N, piv, unprotected sex, riding, switch!brock, soft!dom!reader, oral m!receiving, fingering, pet names, swearing praise, crying, lots of aftercare, fluff, angsty, sad!brock

My birthday was recently and the first thing I said on it was (no joke) “Brock purdy has a fat ass” WHAT.

Touchdown.

The long game that had been 22-19 (49ers lead) was ruined. The score was now 22-25. The Kansas City Chiefs won the Super Bowl. Cameras panned to where the Chiefs celebrated. They showed Taylor Swift celebrating in the crowd.

They didn’t show the way Brock Purdys wife just immediately dropped to her seat. She put her head in her hands. It wasn’t that she was the one who was sad, it was that she was sad for Brock. He had played amazingly and it was all seemingly for nothing.

Everything was painful after that. The interviews, the autographs, everything. Y/N had pushed her way through the crowds to get to her husband. A security guard who hadn’t recognized her tried to stop her, but he failed. Brock was still a little bit in shock from the loss. Three seconds. Three seconds from a win.

The second that Y/N had his arms around him, it took everything not to break down. He clung to his wife, hiding his face in her hair as he tried not to shake so much. His arms were around her as his fingers were curling around her sweater.

She pulled back slightly to look at him, running her hand through his hair. She kissed him, feeling how shaky his breathing was. He was sweaty and a little bit gross smelling, but that was the least of her concerns.

The moment that they had the opportunity, the couple left. They went back to their hotel. Y/N held onto his hand, pushing her way through the crowds of fans or paparazzi. She wasn’t too worried about her reputation. Her elbow went out, jabbing anyone who got in their way as they went to their hotel.

Brock kept his eyes on her to try and ignore whatever else was happening. They went up to their hotel room and then she kissed him again.

“You did amazing today, baby.” She whispered to him. Brock rested his forehead against hers and sighed.

“I didn’t win though. It was just three se-”

“Shh, you did great.” She put her finger to his lips. She gave him a smile. “Think of it like this: you were three seconds away from winning.” She tried to reword it, but it kind of just sounded the same. Brock frowned.

“I need a shower.”

“Yeah, you do.” She laughed lightly and put her hand on his chest to push him towards the washroom. She opened the door for him and ran the water. It was rare for Brock to be getting the princess treatment. It wasn’t like he was going to complain though. Brock sat on the toilet seat while he waited. She stood beside the shower door, occasionally checking the water with her hand. She motioned for him to come.

Brock walked over to his wife. She looked up at him. Her hand touched his chest again as she frowned, feeling horrible for what he was experiencing. She pulled his shirt off of him. It was a bit of a hassle seeing as Brock was a 6’1 quarterback and she was… not. She had to do a bit of a hop to get it off of his arms.

He was unbelievably sore from the game. His whole body ached and he just wanted to lay down. Y/N got her husband under the water once she was also undressed. He looked down at her like she was the only reason why he was alive. Y/N knew how Brock wanted to just sit down and rest for a moment. She stepped out of the shower and snooped around for a moment. She found a little chair thing that seemed to be for old people or something. She grabbed it and got it in the shower.

“What is that?” Brock was confused when his wife walked into the shower, wrestling with some chair. She grunted and set it down, stumbling. Brock grabbed her waist to keep her from slipping.

“Sit.” She muttered, pointing at the chair. He frowned.

“Y/N-”

“Sit your ass in the chair.”

He sat.

Y/N grabbed the mini shampoo bottles and sat on his lap. She looked at him and touched his cheek softly before sighing. She stood back up for a moment and got the shower head. She held it in one hand, the shampoo bottles in the other.

Brock looked at his wife, his brows knit together. He looked like a sad puppy. She set the shampoo bottles down between their bodies so she could use both hands. She got his hair completely soaked. Her fingers ran through his hair and he let out a groan, head falling forward into her shoulder. She kissed his collarbone and then got the shampoo, rubbing it into his scalp. She massaged his scalp, her manicured nails scraping against his skin, relieving him of some of his tension. His fingers gripped at her hips.

Y/N whispered soft praises to her husband as she felt him begin to calm down in her arms. She kissed his collarbone softly and his cheeks too. His nose was her personal favorite to kiss.

She had washed him completely. His hair, his face, his whole body. Her hands hadn’t missed a single spot of him. They got out of the shower. Brock promised to repay her another time. She knew that he just meant he would repay her with a shower like that. She found that funny, since he did it often.

They laid down together in their hotel bed. Brock’s hair was still wet. Y/N had put her hair into the shower cap, since her hair had been perfectly fine before. They laid there in silence. She had her arms around him. His head was on her chest, nose nestled in the valley between her breasts.

Brocks fingers ran down Y/Ns waist, brushing over the bump of her hip showing where her bone was. Y/N shifted slightly beneath him. He lifted his head slightly.

“Whats wrong?” He asked, concerned.

“Nothing, baby. Aren’t you tired though?”

“Mm… not too tired for you.” He smiled and leaned down to kiss her. The first smile of the night. How could she resist? She kissed him back, fingers pushing into his damp hair. Y/N put her hand on him and managed to push him onto his back. It was easier to push him around in bed than on the field.

Her knees were on both sides of his legs. She arched her back and her chest pressed against his as their kisses grew more desperate. Brock, who was normally the top, was of course trying to get over her again. She tsked softly and kept him under her.

“You did enough work today. Let me take care of you, ok?” She whispered against his lips. Brock groaned and his eyes screwed shut as he felt her press her palm against his crotch. He bucked his hips up towards her hand. Y/N smiled and then pulled away, making her way between his legs. She pulled off his pajama bottoms and threw them aside. Brock watched her with glazed over eyes.

Her hand wrapped around his cock and his eyes screwed shut. It had been a while since they had sex. He had been too busy at practice and she had been working a lot recently. It must’ve been close to two or three months since the last time they had a chance to even touch themselves.

Y/N leaned forward and kissed his tip. He was long, maybe around 7.5 inches, yet on the slightly thinner side. There was a vein that went from the base of his cock and almost to his tip. His tip was a pretty soft pink. There was a beauty mark right on the spot where the tip of her nose ended up when she deep-throated him.

Brock reached down and stroked her hair softly as she took him into her mouth. Her tongue swirled around his cock. She treated him as if she was an artist and he was a sugar cube that she wanted to carve artwork into without turning it into just powder. Brock’s head fell back in complete and utter bliss. She knew exactly how to please him. On many occasions, when Brock was away for a longer time, he would try to mimic what she did. He would try to do the things she did to him. She tried the way she gave him handjobs, but it was harder to cum by his own hand.

Y/N knew his body like the back of her own hand. Brock forced his eyes open as he gazed down at her, his eyes filled with just pure adoration. He loved his wife more than anything. She looked up at him as she sucked on his tip. Then she lowered her head back down. The tip of her nose pushed against that beauty mark.

Her hands gave his balls a soft squeeze, urging him to cum. Brock’s back arched slightly off the bed as he bit his lip. He had his hand on the back of her head as he was about to push her head a bit. She took his hand off of her head and just held if instead. Her eyes met his as she held his hand. The soft and loving act mixed with the way their bodies connected in such an intimate way was enough for Brock to be pushed over the edge.

His climax swept over him in waves, and she could taste it. Not waves as in the soft waves on a lake made by some rain, but the waves in the middle of the North Sea. Brock went to pull his hand away to try to hold back his moans, but she didn’t allow it. His head fell to the side as he panted and groaned. A whine came from his lips the moment she pulled off of him.

“Thank you,” Brock whispered as his wife stuck out her tongue to show that she swallowed. It wasn’t like he would do anything if she didn’t swallow, it was just out of habit. His hands reached for her desperately, in need of her warmth, in need of her love and attention.

Y/N hummed in response to his thanks. She leaned down and kissed him again, making him taste himself on her tongue. Brock grunted at the taste. Her hand was already around his cock again, slowly jerking him off. He jolted at the extra stimulation. His hand instinctively grabbed her wrist as his eyes rolled back.

Slowly but surely, Y/N managed to ease herself onto his cock. About halfway down, she was whimpering and burying her face in the crook of his neck. No matter how much they did this, she couldn’t get used to the sheer length of him. Brock closed his eyes as his hands gripped her hips, urging her to take him further. She slid down the other half with just a quick drop.

“Oh my- fuck!” She moaned and her nails dug into his shoulder. The man who sat under her looked at her, eyes half lidded. His eyes were clouded with love and desire. He leaned forward to kiss her while he tightened his grip on her waist to guide her to slowly roll her hips on his. Y/N trembled but eventually the stinging pain went away. Her eyes rolled back from the way he filled her up completely. His ring was cold on her ass. Her ring was cold on the nape of his neck.

Brock grunted as he thrusted weakly up into her. He was too tired for much of an effort.

He promised to himself and to his wife that he would make it up. He would last longer. Being only three or so minutes in, he was already fighting back his orgasm. His nose was in the crook of her neck as he held his wife as close as possible. Usually, their sex had a bit more energy. Not tonight. Just the soft rolling and grinding of their hips. Y/N had her eyes closed as she let out quiet breathy moans. Just the feeling of him that close could get her to cum.

Brock had let go of her hips. He was basically just hugging her now. His arms were around her waist. His breathing grew more ragged as time went on. She knew his body far too well. She knew what every type of his breathing meant and she knew he was close. His cock twitched inside of her.

“Come on, B.” She whispered to him, kissing his neck softly before leaning back to look at him. His cheeks were red, his lips were puffy. He looked absolutely flawless. His chest was heaving and his eyes screwed shut as he instinctively tried to hide his face from her as he was about to cum. Y/N grabbed his wrists and just held his hands, not allowing him to hide.

Brock’s orgasm hit him like a truck. His eyes rolled into the back of his head as his body twitched. His hips bucked up into her and she nearly fell off of him, but she grabbed the headboard to stay stable.

Y/N continued rolling her hips for a moment longer to help him ride out his orgasm. His eyes shot open as his abs rolled and his muscles flexed. He held her still.

“Did you cum?” He asked once he had calmed.

“Its ok, baby. Tonight was about you.” She reminded him softly. Brock frowned and pulled her off of his cock.

“No, come on. I couldn’t have done it without you.” He muttered as he laid her on the bed. He moved so that he was behind her. Y/N had her back pressed against his chest. His hand slipped down between her thighs.

Her back arched the moment he touched her clit. His hands were aching and his muscles screamed in protest, but he still pushed two fingers into her entrance. She swallowed him up gladly. Brock kissed her jaw as he pumped his fingers deep into her.

“Brock- baby, I cant-” Y/N gasped as her thighs shook and clamped around his hand. He used his other hand to pin her hips to him, taking away her ability to move. It was times like these that she realized that he could really push her around without even blinking.

His thumb toyed with her clit as he added a third finger into her pussy. She gasped and her whole body shook. Brock smirked and sped up.

Her eyes closed as she leaned her head back onto his shoulder. It wasn’t just Y/N who knew his body. Brock knew hers. He knew this was her trying to prepare herself to cum. He also knew he didn’t want her to be all that prepared. His fingers curled and she nearly screamed his name. He immediately clasped his other hand over her mouth to muffle her a bit.

Her hips bucked up into his hand, riding his fingers as she came. Brock hummed in satisfaction and then pulled out his fingers. He kissed her softly, then kicked his fingers clean as he stood up and went to grab a towel.

Even though he had been the one being comforted earlier, he always wanted to be the one to treat her after sex. He cleaned off her body with the wet cloth and then did the same for himself. He dried her off, then himself. Always himself second. Wife first.

Brock climbed into the bed with her and for once, neither minded the overwhelming smell. Her arms were immediately around him as she laid on him for a second. Then she sat up.

“Are you feeling any better?” Y/N asked him softly. Brock cleared his throat nervously. He knew he couldn’t successfully lie to her. May as well try though.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” He lied through his teeth. Y/N opened her arms. Brock frowned, then he moved into them. They hugged, but she never let go. The continuing feeling of her love and the warmth of her comfort was too much. He finally broke down, sobbing as he held her.

They both knew it was bound to happen. Her fingers raked through his short hair as she worked to comfort him. Maybe the next Super Bowl would work in his favor.

[grievedeeply]

Please please please do a gow kratos! daughter x the spiders 'v' i meannn the multiverse IS real... hehehehehehehe

i actually really like this idea.. a crossover between two of my favorite things right now really gets me giggling LOL. these are all sorta short, but i didn't want to repeat myself too much. thanks for the request!

fem!reader | no tws

the spiders with kratos' daughter (god of war crossover)

miles morales

you're the daughter of a god? gods are actually a real thing? like, greek gods?

miles freaks out a little. not because you scare him but because he has SO many questions! he's a curious person and has to resist the urge to ask you about literally everything

he thinks you're so cool, even if you're a bit intimidating at first. he can only assume that's because you're a literal gods child

i can just picture you saying "oh yeah my dad killed this god" and his jaw drops. how you say it so casually is just- he's so confused

BUT he does really like you!

arm wrestling that results in you winning every time is definitely something that frequently happens

gwen stacy

similarly to miles, gwen is really curious. she's curious about how you ended up in her world, mostly. aren't you like.. supposed to be worshipped, or something? shouldn't you be busy?

she isn't afraid to ask her questions though, practically showering you in them the first time you meet. you barely have time to react before she asks her next one

though, you become fast friends

gods being real isn't something that surprises her? she accepts it really quick. after all, the multiverse is a thing, why are gods so far fetched?

she'll listen super intently to whatever you feel like telling her. she thinks you're awesome but she won't say it to your face

hobie brown

your dad killed an oppressive god with an evil regime? awesome

you definitely have some similar opinions, so you get along really well. he wants to hear everything about where you come from, like.. how did you even manage to get to his universe?

he doesn't care about that though, he's got a new friend, and that's the most important part of it all

he's super laidback about you being a god, and he doesn't ask any questions. but he's happy to listen if you feel up to talking about your dad or where you come from

he treats you like he does anyone else. he doesn't want you feeling out of place or unwelcomed <3

pavitr prabhakar

brags about you to everyone

"my friend, the goddess-" type stuff. you explain that you're only half god, but pav does not care. you're just soooo cool in his eyes

you become his best friend immediately. he shows you everything in his universe that he thinks you'll like or reminds him of you

he was shocked to find out the greek gods existed, but he doesn't linger on it for very long because you're standing in front of him and he has QUESTIONS

asks you about your world all the time. he wants you to feel at home in his universe too <3

[ddejavvu]

Hi mei <3 I hope you're doing lovely.

I am absolutely in love with your insecure reader drabble as someone completely insecure because of past experiences and people being very judgmental to anyone who looks different, smells different (from air freshener), etc so it's really hard not to be insecure.

Which got me to think of perhaps an insecure!f!reader who hasn't gotten to shower, because she always showers before they play out of pure fear of Eddie thinking she's gross or something, so when he comes home from works and wants to fool around a bit, mainly just eat her out but anything else would be fine too. And so she's trying not to feel guilty about not freshening up for him and he's asking what's wrong. She explains it's just a really bad day and she's self conscious about her discharge and doesn't want him to feel like he has to do something that gross with her because she knows she hasn't freshened up and so he comforts her - tells her it's completely normal and okay.

pussy is pussy is pussy to this man a day of sweat will not change that.

this post is 18+, minors dni.

Eddie's handsy after you get home from work, he always is. By now you should expect it, but typically he's out at his own shift, giving you time to shower before he gets home. When his van pulls up next to your car and crunches leaves beneath its tires, you try feigning excitement.

"Eddie," You gush, stomach tensing as he squeezes your waist. He knocks his nose into yours, scrunching his eyes in delight.

"Hi, pretty," He croons, hands already wrapping around your waist and sinking lower to squeeze at your ass, "I got off early today. Sooo, that should give us, like, thirty more minutes to-"

"Wash the sheets," You pat his chest, "We need to wash the sheets."

"Let's wash the sheets after we fool around," He's practically giggling like a schoolgirl, "No use in putting fresh ones on just to stain 'em."

There's no wrestling his hands away from your ass now, and you have to admit an orgasm would surely fix some of the pent up frustration you'd been feeling from work. But the thought of Eddie changing his mind once he realizes you aren't as fresh as you usually are is a haunting one, and it strikes fear into your heart.

"Okay," You relent with a sheepish grin, "Okay, you win. We'll fuck. Lemme just pee first, 'kay?"

You're not really in need of the toilet, rather the pack of baby wipes you keep beside it. Maybe if you give yourself a quick wipedown it'll block whatever sweaty scent you're sure is between your thighs.

"Nooo," Eddie whines, keeping his grip tight on your hand, "You're supposed to pee after. Can't you just hold it?"

"I need to pee now," You lie, laughing at his protests, "Can't you just let me take five minutes in there?"

"I'll be quick, baby, like, ten minutes! I just wanna taste you," He pleads, leaning in to kiss your bottom lip in a gesture that ultimately breaks you down.

"I don't think I taste very good right now," You warn, letting him drag you to the bedroom.

"I bet you taste like pussy," Eddie grins wolfishly as he pushes you back over the mattress. You bounce slightly after landing, and before you're fully settled he's already between your thighs, "That's I left work early," He admits, face nestled between your legs and nose pressed to your clothed clit. He lets out a groan, nuzzling his face further into your panties, "So that you wouldn't have time to shower and wash it all away. So fuckin' tired of eating soap," He mouths messily at your cunt, soaking your underwear with his drool, "I want pussy!"

He only drags himself back to tug the waistband of your panties down, nearly ripping them off in his eagerness to get started. He licks a long stripe up your slit, tongue flat and wet to your skin. "And that," He grunts, eyes fluttering shut as he goes back for more, "Is pussy."

[scientia-rex]

I got home from work today sneezing my head off with a right eye that won’t stop watering, took a hot shower, climbed into bed, and I haven’t climbed out since. I’m grumpy and I have a headache and if I’m not testing positive for COVID or debilitated by symptoms tomorrow I’ll still need to go to work because that’s twenty patient visits that would need to be rescheduled, usually with someone else, and that’s twenty people I’m letting down. Today I did one of my patented 45-second Pap smears (if it takes longer than that, your doctor needs to get better!) for someone with vaginal atrophy from menopause (it is both very common and very treatable) and she was in disbelief. (This time it was more like 30 seconds.) I saw a suicidally depressed patient who’s clinging to life with both hands and I changed their meds last week and I am not making them wait to see me. I cleaned a wound no one else gave a shit about and I saw a bitter pissy Republican Party bigwig who has terrible anxiety and depression she doesn’t tell anyone about, who’s alienated everyone but who I can still convince to try treatment.

I do my job on hard mode on purpose. I like being important—who doesn’t? I like being legendary, I like that when people move to town and ask for doctor recommendations on Facebook so many people mention me that other patients feel compelled to tell me about it. I got nominated for best doctor in our local region last year. (I didn’t win, out of 5 nominees.) But when I’m sick, when I’m the kind of sick that can be hidden easily, the kind of sick I was always expected to go to school and rotations and residency with, it’s so hard. I hate exposing patients, even to a cold, but the benefits of receiving care are probably enough to outweigh the chance of transmission. I wrestle with myself: if I call in, it starts a ripple effect. Can they get a per diem from their “pool” (of three) to come in? Can they reschedule my patients with me? I don’t have any open spots for five weeks. Can they open same days? None available for three weeks. Can they open blocked spots? That’s going to make my life hell when I come back from being sick. That’s clinic staff calling twenty patients, trying to reach them. That’s twenty patients who feel abandoned. They can know intellectually that doctors get sick too, but they don’t believe it. They take it personally. I have seen this over and over again, until I had to believe it.

It is so EASY for people who don’t do this job to tell me how I’m doing it wrong. “Just stay home!” Oh, okay, you want to tell the person whose chronic opioids I’m supposed to write for that I can’t? You want to put the nurses through getting the on-call to write a bridge prescription? I write more ADHD meds than most of my peers—usually a lot more. You want to tell my colleagues to write meds they’re uncomfortable with? How about tell my suicidal patients (which is a lot of them!) that the provider they know and trust after months or years will be replaced today by a 70-year-old white man who still thinks they should pull themselves up by their bootstraps? Tell my queer patients that they have to wait until I’m better and back to get their hormones and their STI screenings, reschedule a Pap someone was dreading. Every day is a kaleidoscope of opportunities to make a real connection with “difficult” patients. I’m good at it. I may be the best at it at my clinic.

I don’t hate calling in sick just because the clinic manager is a judgy bitch, though that doesn’t help. I hate it because of what it does to my patients. And it’s not simple. Pretending it is does all of us a disservice. I am not a widget. I am not easily replaceable. You can’t plug any of our per diems (all men, 2/3 white, 2/3 old, 1/3 a Bitcoin bro) into my place and call it an equivalent, and my schedule is already so packed that if I call in sick, patients will be guilt-tripping me about it for months. I’m not kidding. That happens every single time.

Christ alive, I wish it was true that doctors never got sick.

[tokyo-daaaamn-ji-gang]

What are you headcanons about Senju in the relationships with new toman

Like toman in the good timeline? That's what I went with since that's the newest version of toman, tried to include everyone in it and I think I got everyone at least mentioned once? (South is also here).

She enjoys teasing Baji (this includes telling Chifuyu and Kazutora childhood stories about him)

Senju still challenges Mikey sometimes and will try to beat him in lots of little contests like arm wrestling.

Likes Mucho a lot, sometimes he brings her cake (she's unsure as to why Sanzu frowns about this though)

Likes hanging out with Taiju because she finds his fighting style to be strong and interesting.

Draken is thankful for her presence since she handles the division whenever Sanzu gets into trouble and disbanded.

Once playfully threatened to break Hanma's wrist after he teased her over her height and patted her on the head. Hanma of course was very amused by the whole interaction (though he didn't do it again).

Switches schools to either Takemichi's or another group in toman's school so she isn't so alone anymore.

Has a bit of beef with some of the members who think guys shouldn't fight girls. It's not uncommon for them to step into her fights and take her opponents as a way of trying to keep her safer. (As time goes on this becomes less common)

Tries very hard to make friends with Hakkai even after she's told he won't talk to her. She brings him drinks a lot and tries to be friendly towards him.

She tries to convert them all into being mint chocolate chip fans, but struggles to actually win anyone over.

The first time she meets Angry, she assumes she's done something wrong so tries to make him laugh/ smile.

Gets along well with Rindou and sometimes works out with him

She also sometimes works out with Kakucho too (she heard about the yakuza thing from Rindou and immediately wanted in. But unfortunately Kakucho just took her to beat up some random thugs)

Her and Inui hold a lot of respect for each other

Occasionally goes on shopping trips with Koko

If she needs help with her uniform or dressing then she has no problem asking Mitsuya for it, he acts completely natural about it which makes her feel more relaxed when she needs help with adjustments. (Emma is also sometimes around to lend a hand)

Although her and Smiley are on good terms, he'll sometimes blush if she gets too close or hugs him. Angry thinks this is funny

She once complimented Shion's tattoo, he thinks this makes them close friends.

Likes reading manga with Chifuyu

Becomes very close with South (even though he seems to appear after toman) they play fight a lot.

Ran has offered to take her to his hair salon many times, she's always refused.

When she first joined toman, a few of the background guys weren't happy with this so she beat them up then asked if anyone else had a problem with her being here. No one stepped forward.

She likes the mizo mid members and thinks they're pretty funny (they were acting strangely when they first met her, mainly because they were holding their breaths and hoping Makoto wouldn't say anything weird. Especially since Sanzu was watching them the whole time).

Izana cheers for Senju anytime she challenges Mikey

If Pah needs someone to walk Pochi, he knows Senju is always willing to help out (she loves dogs)

One time when Peh wanted to talk to Mitsuya during handcrafts club time, he took Senju with him and told her to distract Yasuda with "girl stuff". It backfired pretty badly though when they started talking about embarrassing things Peh had done.

Senju is amazed at how much corn Mochi can eat, she thinks it's cool

Senju once found Kisaki asleep at a meeting so she snuck his glasses away, put them on and then did her best kisaki impression. Kisaki was not impressed.

[charliedawn]

Hi, I really like your blog. Can you please do the slashers and the Russian nurse. She came to America to exchange experiences. She is quite strong and tall, she can effortlessly throw Jack on her shoulder and carry him to the room. As soon as y/n arrived at the hospital she acted like a stereotypical Russian, cold, stoic, not talking or smiling, with a neutral expression on her face. But after some time in the hospital, when everyone is assembled, she starts laughing and says that she likes to play pranks on foreigners that way. In fact, she turns out to be very kind, smiling, cheerful, a little cheeky and flirtatious. She's very understanding and you can share anything with her. I'm sorry if my query makes you feel cringe, прошу прощения

Freddy :

Freddy : "So...You're the new girl, huh ? Wasn't expecting Hulk in a dress."

Freddy was...Freddy. He looked at you and bam, big women jokes just kept coming out. He couldn't have stopped himself, even if he wanted to.

But, he wasn't expecting you to play dumb.

"Whatever do you mean, Mr. Krueger ? I am confused.", you replied with your best poker face and Freddy almost spit out his morning coffee.

"You gotta be kidding me...Superhero ? Tall ? Green ? Strong ?", he tried to describe the Hulk to you, but you tilted your head and frowned at him.

"...I am even more confused."

He then proceeded to go on and on about all the heroes of comic books and try to 'open your horizons'.

You never told him that you actually knew the Avengers, it was best to keep quiet and let him try to culture you on what he thought was 'true American culture.' It made him talk, and it was nice to hear him talk about anything else than dirty jokes.

It didn't mean he sometimes didn't let himself crack a dirty joke or two in your presence, or even attempted flirting from time to time.

Freddy *smirks* : "...You know...I wouldn't mind you sitting on my face sometimes. I always fantasized on how it would feel like to die by big woman suffocation ?" *cheeky wink*

You laughed and Freddy was so surprised, he almost fell off his chair.

"....WAIT. HOLD UP. YOU CAN LAUGH ?!"

Pennywise :

Pennywise : "It's going down, girlie. I can assure you that you ain't as strong as me."

He tried to assert dominance right away.

Let's get something clear.

Pennywise is one of the short ones. He's not as tall as any of the others, but he's the strongest. Hands down.

He could run a marathon with Penny on his back and not break a sweat. It's one of his strong points and he'd be caught dead before letting anyone deprive him of that title.

So, he would of course try to gain the advantage and make it a competition.

He'd ask you to compete with him by carrying heavy things around, arm wrestling and other various challenges..

Pennywise *grumbles under his breath in annoyance when you succeeded in carrying Brahms for a whole day*

At the end, he did learn to respect you, especially when you made sure to let him win sometimes—as to not lose face in front of the others.

He doesn't understand why or how you managed to become so strong, but even though Pennywise is technically a god—you managed to push him to his body's limits...And that's no easy feat.

Jason Voorhees :

You : "Jason ! Bath time !"

Oh no...

Nope.

No water.

He ran. He ran faster than he had ever ran in his life, not expecting you to course after him.

You : "Jason ! You come back here !"

He kept running...until he hit a wall and fell backwards.

He was certain you wouldn't be able to move him if he was completely still—but was surprised when you almost effortlessly lift him up and started walking to the bathroom.

He tried to get off, but had to eventually give up as you started humming to yourself and didn't seem to mind the slasher trying desperately to escape bath time...

The other slashers were stunned when they saw the both of you and Jason was red in the face under the mask.

He frantically tried to escape again, but was once again unsuccessful.

Freddy tried to open his mouth—but as if you had the same Freddy senses—you and Jason both glared at him.

You : "Don't. You're next."

Freddy's smile dropped and Pennywise guffawed beside him while you kept walking.

Jason didn't like being carried around—but he had to admit, it was nice to have someone stronger than him.

Brahms Heelshire :

Brahms was very suspicious of you at first—staying hidden and making sure not to make his existence known until he was sure you were nice.

He observed your reaction to his doll very closely and when you started singing to it in your native language and cradling it gently in your arms—he knew that you were trustworthy.

He showed himself to you and you smiled.

You : "Ah. You must be Brahms. Nice to meet you."

He nodded before suddenly pulling you into a hug.

Brahms' way of saying: you too.

He then proceeded to show you around and his favorite toys.

He was excited to have a new friend an when you started bringing him russian stories and toys—his eyes literally sparkled in pure joy.

Brahms would then ask you to read them for him and even try to learn Russian so he may talk with you in your native language.

Brahms would become curious and happy to find out new things with you and share his own personal childhood stories with you.

Michael Myers :

Michael did find it strange when you first appeared.

He doesn't normally trust strangers and tends to stay away, but he did eventually get used to you.

Problem is...Low and behold, the great Michael Myers can and did become jealous of you when you started becoming a role model for the youngest slashers.

Michael is technically their father. He is very protective of his (adopted) children and Myers eventually found you someone to undermine his authority.

Myers *glares at you from afar when you wave at him and walks away*

He was aloof at first. Didn't think he needed you.

But, that quickly changed when he tried to help Jason with his truck and it ended with him, actually trapped underneath the car.

He tried to move it, but had to eventually give up and Jason had to go find you.

You immediately ran outside and started using your strength to pull the car off Michael. He crawled from underneath and once he was out, Jason and Brahms came to pull him up.

He finally realized that having you around wasn't such a bad thing and even thanked you.

He wanted to apologize too, but didn't find the words.

When you smiled, he knew you understood and smiled back.

Jack Torrance :

"...Mr. Torrance. It is the third time I am telling you that it is time to go to sleep.", you reminded Jack who was still hunched over his writing machine, like an old grumpy leprechaun trying to protect his pot of gold.

"Oh yeah ? You're gonna do...what ? Punish me and send me to bed without cookies ?", he mocked and you replied in all seriousness.

"Carry you on my shoulder and tuck you in bed like a teeny-weenie baby."

"...You wouldn't.", he tried to call on your bluff—but was met with a raised eyebrow and a challenging smirk.

"Попробуйте. (Try me.)"

Now, Jack is the only one who knows a little Russian, since his ex-wife was from Russian descendance through her great grandmother or something...

So, he would understand most of the things you say.

And, it was funny when you would pretend to have a whole conversation in front of the others when it would simply be an exchange of random Russian words with absolutely no context..

But sometimes...You would use the language to know you were being serious and Jack knew better than to protest.

So, he sighed in defeat and stood up.

"You know I could kill you, right ?", he told you as you were about to leave and you stilled for a second or two before smiling mysteriously back at him.

"ложиться спать (go to bed), Mr. Torrance."

Truth was, there was absolutely no way he would do that—and you both knew it.

Norman Bates :

You : "Please. Let me hug you."

Call it Russian intuition—but you knew Norman needed a hug the moment you met.

There was just something that made you convinced that the man deserved one. And, it was quite strange as you hadn't even exchanged names yet.

However he didn't seem to mind as he simply tilted his head and asked.

"...On what grounds ?"

You shrugged in response.

"On the grounds that I wish to hug you."

Norman seemed a little taken aback—but not actually opposed to the idea. He stared at you for a while, trying to find out if there was anything in your eyes that could have been interpreted as bad intentions but...He found nothing.

He then crossed his arms over his chest and asked.

"Even if I decide to kill you afterwards ?"

You took two seconds to think about it before nodding.

"Never been so sure of anything in my life."

Norman seemed to hesitate for a moment before finally sighing in defeat and opening his arms.

"Fine. 5 seconds.", he indulged.

"10.", you attempted.

"4.", he said adamantly.

"Да. (Fine.)", you finally agreed and hugged him.

You stayed like this for 4 seconds exactly before Norman pulled away and you sighed. He did say 4 seconds...

"So, ready to die ?", he asked with a small playful smile and you nodded.

"It was worth it.", you replied with a small playful smile of your own and for a moment—Norman thought about actually killing you.

But, he only extended his hand forward.

"My name is Norman Bates."

You looked at the outstretched hand and smiled before shaking it.

"I'm Y/N."

And let me tell you, Norman had never felt such a powerful handshake in his life.

Penny :

"Friends."

"Friends."

There wasn't much to say.

Penny immediately knew that you were trustworthy and didn't waste any time befriending you.

But, what was even funnier was that he perfectly knew Russian and when you were alone—he would often start talking to you in Russian just for the fun of it.

He found the language funny and liked the way it made his tongue feel weird.

But, Penny is also a mind reader. And he would sometimes make sure to creep the others out by finishing your sentences for you.

So, you would sometimes start shouting in Russian and he would loom over you from behind and start repeating your sentences word for word for dramatic effect—or support you.

You *after seeing Jason and Freddy fight for the third time this week* : "Сколько раз у нас должен быть этот разговор, пока ты не поймешь, что нужно себя вести ?! Ты хоть представляешь, как мне грустно видеть, как вы все время ссоритесь ?! (How many times do we have to have this conversation until you figure out how to behave ?! Do you have any idea how sad it makes me to see you guys fighting all the time ?!)

Penny *behind you and giggling maniacally* : "Идиоты (Idiots...)"

Esther and Five Hargreeves :

You were about to ask Five and Esther to go to sleep when you barely managed to miss a bullet coming from their room.

You sighed.

"Children...What did I say about firearms indoors ? What is the meaning of this mutiny ?", you asked before entering their room and found them with angelic smiles on their faces.

Esther : "Well...we concerted between ourselves, and came to the conclusion that—as adults—we should no longer have a bed time."

You *sigh again and pinch the bridge of your nose tiredly* : "Bed time is for children and adults alike. I have a bed time too. And I cannot go to sleep until I know that you are in bed."

Five *chuckles* : "Too bad..We're not going to bed tonight."

"Дети", you tutted in fake disappointment—hiding your smile. "...Do we really have to do this every night ?"

Esther giggled and Five smiled darkly.

Esther *gets out knives* : "Don't tell us you don't like it."

Five *pulls out the gun he was hiding* : "Besides, you perfectly know we don't like it when people call us children. Gotta remind you somehow."

You *laugh and shake your head before shutting the door behind you with your foot* : "Fine. Let us play for a little."

Needless to say, they eventually got to bed.

[judgementdaysunshine]

for the pride requests: could you write something with rhea ripley x reader with the phone call prompt? she's my absolute fave

also, 🍾: five songs for damien priest please:))

Ofc boo! Happy Pride! 🌈

Show me that smile

Pairing: Rhea Ripley x Fem reader

Description: Rhea facetimes you after her match but surprises you

Gif credits to @this-is-my-bisexuality

You were watching tv after having lunch and watching Rhea win her match when you hear your phone ring looking to see rhea face timing you making you smile as you answer. "Hey I saw your match you kicked ass I'm proud of you!" she giggles as she walks hugging the boys as they all talk to you making you laugh at the jokes they were playing on each other until you noticed no one in the background or anyone else you knew saying hello asking where they were thinking they were in the hotel they were staying at suddenly looking at the floor until she shows dom on Damian's back while Finn was being wrestled on the ground making you laugh even more. You set your phone on the bed grabbing a drink when you hear a yell from dom "SHIT PENDEJO YOU ALMOST BROKE MY BACK" making you fall on the floor laughing as rhea smacks them telling them to be quiet since they were in the hall of the hotel where people were probably asleep or trying to at least watching as she goes in her shared room with damien talking to the both of them until he went and showered talking to rhea while watching tv. You were humming when rhea screenshots your facetime making you look turning your head when you heard the click of the screenshot being taken "What was that for?" she smiles sweetly as you giggle confused "She likes your smile!" you hear dom yell who came into the room to talk to the two of you and take a bite of chocolate you gave him earlier while you look more confused by the statement "It's one of my favorite things about you hon it always makes me happy and feel like I'm floating" you turn a bright red as dom laughs fist bumping damian who came out of the bathroom dressed laying on his bed and watching tv as you do the same hiding your face when you hear rhea sweetly say "Show me that smile" you giggle as you smile big turning to look at her still smiling as she giddly taps her hands in her lap while damian and dom laugh at the two of you.

[master-sass-blast]

Let's Call it a Draw Between Us -Chapter One: Defeat.

Author's Note (uploading multiple works tonight, so I'm slapping this on all the fics I'm posting):

Uh... hi.

It's been a very long time. Longer than I'd hoped for, but suffice to say, this year hasn't gone according to plan.

In sum, I had a mental breakdown in Spring, got diagnosed with hypermobile Ehlers-Danlos syndrome in July, my husband totaled his car in September, I was sick for the whole month of October, my husband found a new (used) car... and then hit a deer at the end of November, and the insurance company ruled that it was totaled because the repair costs would be worth more than the value of the car.

Yeah.

There's been other shit, too, but part of what I've learned with the new diagnosis is that my body does not regulate or cope with stress well -which I sort of already knew, but it's to a vaster extent than I'd known. Essentially, this past year has just taken me out at the knees, and it will probably take my body a while to regulate and function well again.

I still want to write and post fics, but I now have a lot of anxiety around not being able to write and post fics (along with other things that my befuckened body interferes with), which is just... a lot. And frustrating.

I'm not throwing in the towel. But I also can't promise any sort of posting schedule moving forward. Right now, my body and brain are just too unpredictable, and I have to make sure I'm taking care of my basic needs (like eat and hygiene and sleeping, it's literally that difficult to deal with) so that I'm physically okay.

Thank you all for being so patient. I hope to see you more regularly in the coming New Year, but if not, know that I'm okay and still kicking, but that my body's just kicking back for the time being.

Much love and best of wishes to you all for the New Year!

Summary: Sevika pines. She drinks. Then she competes in some arm wrestling and makes some very sapphic eye contact.

She loses, loses again, and then she wins.

Or maybe she wins all three times. It depends on your point of view.

(Basically just a very self-indulgent fic that spawned from an idea about Sevika and a big, buff Reader that I'll probably never get around to writing in full, so I wrote this as a way of honoring that idea.)

Pairing(s): Sevika/Reader.

Rating: M for some sensual themes and making out.

Word Count: 10.1k. Whoops.

You drive her to drink.

Speaking of… Sevika leans against the bar and snaps her fingers at Thieram. “Whisky, neat. Half a glass.” She narrows her eyes when he raises his eyebrows at her, then scoffs and goes back to staring across the room once he jumps to. Idiot.

She hadn’t expected much out of you after she first met you. Properly met you, that is. Technically, her first introduction to you had been in an underground fighting ring stocked by Stillwater’s hardier, more opportunistic patrons. You’d made quick work of the other prisoners, but Silco had wanted a proper evaluation before deciding whether or not to scoop you up, so in she’d gone. She’d socked you in the jaw, you’d suplexed her through a shitty wooden table. Good times.

She hasn’t had any complaints about you. You’re quiet, compliant. You don’t get drunk on the job, and you don’t start fights with the rest of the crew.

But that seems to be about it. You don’t really hang out with anyone else. You’ll talk to her every now and then, but otherwise you keep to yourself. You don’t play cards with the others, shoot pool, or share drinks. No swapping of stories, or exchanging inside jokes. From what she can tell, you keep to yourself like a hermit in an invisible cave.

Like a shadow, she reflects as you hang back in your usual spot (towards the back of the bar, tucked into darkness, where no one bothers you). If you’re not watching it, you forget it’s there.

She’d thought that was it. She’s seen plenty of people leave Stillwater and fall into violence, or inebriation, or withdrawn sullenness. She figured you were a tragic statistic –yet another to add to Zaun’s tally.

And then…

Her upper lips curls when Jinx comes bounding down the stairs. She tracks the blue-haired sprite across the bar, over to where you’re sitting, then scoffs when you greet Jinx with a small smile before glaring down at her glass.

It’s like watching a flower unfurl after weeks of frost. You smile and open up towards the sun of Jinx’s exuberance like you’ve been doing it your whole life, like there’s nothing more natural to you than beaming at Silco’s brat. And, sure, Jinx is a kid and she’s kind of cute, for a demented gremlin. But she’s still Jinx.

Sevika scowls down into her whiskey. Fucking psycho kid.

You’d called it kismet when she’d asked why you tolerate Silco’s batty brat. You’d lost your baby sister when you’d gone into prison, Jinx had lost Vi after the factory explosion, and then, years later, the universe had brought you two together and balanced everything back out, or fucking whatever.

She supposes it’s a decent arrangement. Jinx isn’t nearly as vicious and off kilter with you around, and you get all soft, and mushy, and happy, and pretty–

Sevika motions to Thieram to top her glass up again. Fuck me.

You’re protective of Jinx, too. Not that the brat can’t handle herself (Sevika has her new arm to prove that). But, she can still remember the night Finn’s gang had crowded into the Last Drop. They’d been obnoxious, and overbearing, and more than a little sloshed. Jacen, one of Finn’s “good buddies,” had slapped Jinx across the ass as a joke.

He’d done it in front of Silco. He was a dead man regardless.

Before anyone –even Jinx–could react, though, you’d lurched out of your chair, grabbed the sledgehammer you keep with you in lieu of a knife or a gun, and taken two long strides across the bar. “Jacen!”

Sevika’s core clenches at the memory. She lets out a harsh breath, then gulps down half her drink.

The crimson, glittering spray of blood through the air had been beautiful. Like gems cascading through the air. Jacen’s face had caved in on one side from where you drove the head of the hammer all but through it. He’d dropped to the floor in a heap, unmoving.

“Anyone else want to have a go?”

She’d gotten herself off to the thought of it that very night. The fury in your eyes, the decisive, powerful movements of your body, the splatter of blood. She’d climaxed harder than she had in a long time.

The whiskey burns her throat –expected and grounding.

She takes it without coughing or gasping. She’s been an expert for decades. Her jaw works as she finishes swallowing, and then she turns her head so she can watch you again.

You’re listening and nodding while Jinx rambles. There’s a certain attentiveness to your expression. Maybe it’s the angle of your eyebrows, or the soft, lax look of your jaw, or the brightness in your eyes. Whatever it is, it’s a total abandonment from both the harsh, dominating fury she’s seen from you, and the skittish, withdrawn apathy.

Something soft and needy aches beneath her ribs as she watches you with Jinx. Sevika grits her teeth and exhales with practiced languor. I’ve gone fucking soft.

Sevika doesn’t consider herself possessive. She visits the brothel far too regularly, and has more than a handful of casual “situationships” with different ladies around Zaun to be possessive. She’s not monogamous, at least. She doesn’t think of other people as property. The children of Zaun don’t have the luxury of such affluent detachment.

But she wants you. It’s like this thing that sits beneath her ribs and crawls around inside her. It’s restless, and writhing, and it gnaws on her bones like a feral dog in the dark corner of an alley. It keeps her up at night with racing thoughts, vivid hopes, and half-formed “what ifs.”

It also keeps her up at night because, more often than not, she winds up masturbating to the thought of you –like some starstruck, gods-damned teenager.

She’s not used to wanting –not for companionship, at least. She wants her freedom, wants her equality, wants Zaun to stand strong against those fucking Piltie pigs… but that’s about Zaun. There’s a certain degree of detachment there. It’s not about Sevika personally, the woman who is renowned at the Gardens, beats everyone’s ass in cards, and can drink any citizen of Zaun under the table. The woman who got blown up and survived, lost an arm and came back stronger, and practically rules the Undercity with a steel spine and a –literal–iron fist.

She doesn’t want for company. Any attention she wants, she can easily get. She doesn’t stay up half the night yearning for anyone, much less a… lover? Companion? Affection?

Sevika knocks back the rest of her drink, but the burning in her throat pales in comparison to the ache in her chest. Janna, kill me. Put me out of my fucking misery.

She wants you. She wants to get her hands on you, get you underneath her (or on top of her, she’s not picky), and crack you open. She wants to drink you down, watch all that rage and goodness and steeliness and softness pour out. She wants to find its source and let it all wash over her. She wants it –needs it–for herself.

She wants it to be hers, even in part. She wants to bask in everything you keep held back by your silent, stoic mask.

There’s a headache forming behind her left eye. Probably from clenching her teeth; ever since the scars on her face crystalized, the muscles on the left side of her jaw have been more sensitive to strain.

She’s not used to this –this, this insipid, endless pining. It’s been going on for months now, and she’s just about ready to put a fork in her eye just to make it fucking end.

She barks at Thieram to get her another glass. Drink until you feel nothing. Zaun’s oldest remedy. She leans heavily against the bartop, then groans beneath her breath. Might as well buy the whole bottle. Against good sense, she resumes watching you. Warmth spreads through her chest when you grin at Jinx, and she bites the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling.

“Y’know, somehow, I don’t think she’s going to figure out you like her just from you staring at her like a creep through a window.”

Sevika tenses, then glares at Ran as they sit down on the barstool next to hers. She picks up her refilled glass with her left hand and lifts it to her lips. “Fuck off. Nobody asked you.”

Ran stays where they are –a credit to their courage, at least. They smirk, then glance across the bar, to where you’re sitting, before returning their knowing, smug gaze to Sevika. “It’d be easier if you talked to her.”

“Shut. Up.”

“I’m just trying to save you the eyestrain.” They grin, thin and sharp, when Sevika flips them off, then lean against the wooden countertop. “Seriously, though. Why not ask her out?”

Sevika scowls and focuses on her whiskey glass, which is suddenly very interesting. “S’not that simple.”

“Why not?”

Sevika nearly kicks them off the stool and onto the floor (just for starters), but when she catches a look at Ran’s face and realizes they’re not teasing, she sighs and scrubs her face with her right hand. “I… I don’t know what she’d say.”

“Since when is that a problem for you?” Ran asks, face twisting with equal parts mirth and disbelief. When Sevika rolls her eyes, they shove her shoulder lightly. “It’s not like you ever have to work for it.” They pause, then smirk devilishly. “Maybe it’s weakened your game. Is that it?”

Sevika glares at them, then kicks Ran in the shin when they start snickering. “I’m gonna smother you in your sleep. And for your information, you giggling bastard, that’s not the problem.” When Ran swallows their smile and motions for her to continue (while rubbing at their shin), she huffs. “I –I don’t know if she likes women.”

Ran’s visible eyebrow arches. “You’ve seen her.”

“...Duh.”

“She likes women.” When Sevika grimaces, Ran narrows their eyes. “You think otherwise?”

“I don’t think she likes anybody,” Sevika admits; doing so is somehow both a relief and condemning all in one. “You’ve seen her around people. She’s not exactly interested.”

“Not everyone likes a girl in their lap the way you do.”

“That’s not the point,” Sevika snarls under her breath as she rolls her eyes.

“Then what is?”

It’s not easy to articulate. Sure, it’s an unspoken, universally acknowledged truth in Zaun, but that doesn’t mean anyone ever says it.

People go into Stillwater, and they come out –if they come out at all–different. Broken. You spent most of your life in that shithole –spent most of your teenage years there–at the anti-mercy of the wardens and other prisoners. It only stands to reason that any part of you inclined towards a relationship –or sex, or human contact–got snuffed out by the need to survive.

She feels bad for you, sometimes. Only when it’s too quiet, and she doesn’t have anything to do, and she’s not drunk and-or high enough to keep her thoughts from wandering to the dark, traitorously soft corners of her mind. She can almost see the child you started as –fiery, but so soft and good and kind–and it all got stomped out by the assholes ruling above them.

Sevika forces herself to loosen her death grip on the glass. Breaking it wouldn’t be the end of the world, but she hates picking shards out of the grooves of her mechanical fingers. “You haven’t seen her around Silver. She touched her shoulder–” she nods at you subtly “–without warning. I thought she was gonna break Silver’s fingers.”

“That’s Silver,” Ran says with a derisive curl of their upper lip. “She wouldn’t know the meaning of ‘boundaries’ if it rammed itself up her ass.”

They’re not wrong; the young woman’s brazen attitude is one of the things Sevika likes about Silver –albeit in small doses.

“She doesn’t talk to anyone,” Sevika murmurs, pathetic by her own standards. She’s worn down enough, though, to speak plainly. “She doesn’t go to any of the brothels, or take anyone home –and, yes, I’ve asked. She hates being touched, or being near anyone.” She presses her lips together to keep a pitiful smile back –she’d never forgive herself–then downs more whiskey. The burn of the liquor grounds her, brings her back to normalcy. “I don’t think she’s interested.”

Ran nods minutely, mulling the evidence over. They watch you for a minute, hawkish in their scrutiny. “She sits with Jinx.”

“Jinx,” Sevika grits out (both because it’s Jinx, and because of the implication of Ran’s observation), “is a kid.”

“She is,” they agree, unfazed. “But, clearly, she’s not entirely opposed to all human contact.”

Like I don’t fucking know that. Sevika clenches her teeth together to keep from snapping. She’s observed the same damn thing, and it’s what keeps that whining, consuming, itching ember of hope burning in her chest.

Ran watches Sevika for a moment, then continues when she doesn’t say anything. “She sits with you.”

“That’s different,” Sevika says on reflex.

“I don’t think it is,” they press. “She never sits with anyone else. It’s either on her own, with Jinx, if she’s here, or with you.”

“I–”

“It’s not like she’s in it for playing cards,” Ran continues, staring Sevika down when she tries to argue. “And she doesn’t drink much, either.” They prop one elbow against the bartop. “Frankly, if you’re not here, then she isn’t. She only bothers hanging around if you’re here.”

“That’s–”

“She talks to you a lot, too,” Ran drawls, tone both teasing and reflective. “The rest of us are lucky to get a word or two from her, but she’ll talk the whole night with you.”

“I’m–”

“She lets you touch her, too. I’ve even seen her touch your shoulder in return.”

“If you interrupt me again–”

“Quit moping,” Ran says, voice flat and final. “Ask her out, or get over it.”

There’s a lot she could say to that. First of all, no one accuses her of moping. But she tucks it away for later; she doesn’t want to start kicking Ran’s ass in front of everyone, because that means the trigger point for said ass kicking will inevitably become common knowledge. Her feelings are nobody’s business but hers. Second of all, no one but Silco tells her what to do, and that’s only for work. She is the only damn master of her personal life, thank you very fucking much. Third, she knows for a fact that Ran spent nearly two years pining for one of Silco’s assassins, so they’ve got zero room to talk shit.

Sevika downs the rest of her drink, then motions for a third refill. “She’s not interested.”

Ran stares at her for a moment. Then, they scoff and shake their head. “You’re an idiot.”

Sevika glares harshly at them–

The door to Silco’s office creaks open, then thumps shut, followed by the man himself quietly descending the staircase to the bar floor. “Jinx.” He finishes buttoning his trench coat shut. “Pack up your things. We’re going home.”

“What?” Jinx’s face screws into the picture of teenage consternation. The baby fat on her cheeks makes her look younger still. “But–”

“It’s alright.” You quickly and neatly arrange her blueprints and drawings into a single stack, then hand them to the blue-haired youngster. “We can talk later, okay?”

Envy curls in Sevika’s gut when Jinx hugs you and you reciprocate with one arm. She turns away and hides her scowl behind her glass. Fucking brat.

Silco addresses the rest of his crew, “I trust that you’re all competent enough to avoid burning the place to the ground?” He arches his good eyebrow, then smirks when a mix of serious answers and half-drunk jokes rise up from the crowd. “Good enough.” He turns to face Sevika and tosses her a key. “You decide when the bar closes.”

She catches the key with her right hand, then flips Petrichor off with her left when they start grumbling under their breath about Sevika being in charge. She raises her glass to Silco in lieu of a spoken fair well, then knocks the rest of it back when he leaves out the rear with Jinx in tow. “Fucking finally. Theo! Put something good on for a change.”

“Are you having another?”

Sevika looks down as Silver –one of Silco’s personal spies–materializes at her side. She eyes the younger woman –her tight dress, high ponytail, and alluring make up–then looks away. Not with you. “Probably not. Best to take it easy.”

“Since when?” Ran mutters under their breath.

Sevika subtly kicks their stool, then looks down when Silver situates herself between her legs.

“You sure?” Silver pouts –which does stir something in Sevika, given Silver’s plush lips and deep-colored lipstick, but it’s not the something that she wants tonight. Silver bats her eyelashes a little, then smiles coyly. “Could be fun.”

Sevika bites back a scowl; she doesn’t want to put Silver off permanently –not yet, anyway. She wracks her brain for some sort of believable excuse that even Silver would accept–

As fortune would have it, one falls into her lap.

“–pretty sure I hit three-fifty yesterday–”

A collective chorus of groans alerts Sevika to the newest problem –chiefly, that Arik is bragging about his “gym gains.” Again.

Nevermind that she could break him over her knee like a fucking twig.

“It’s taken a lot of dedication and hard work.” Arik stretches and flexes, preening while everyone else rolls their eyes. “I don’t want to brag, but I’m probably the strongest member in the crew.”

Sevika arches one eyebrow in judgment; it’s ludicrous, considering that he’s ignoring her, the bouncers, Leon and Boris, and Lock, Silco’s mountainous, tattooed henchman that works security at the Shimmer plants. Why do we even put up with you?

Theo barks out a laugh. “Fat fucking chance, dickwad. No way in hell you’re the strongest person here. Pretty sure Miss Silver could knock you on your ass.”

“I’d take that bet,” Silver chimes in, twirling a lock of her straight, powder purple hair around her finger.

Arik pouts, looking like a spoiled teenager. “Oh, yeah? Who’s strongest, then? You?”

“No.” Theo shakes his head. “I don’t have delusions of grandeur like you. Nah, it’s probably…” He looks around the bar, eyeing the bouncers, then Sevika, before twisting in his seat so he can see the back of the bar. “Actually, it’s probably Mouse, here.”

It takes you a moment to register the nickname foisted upon you by the rest of the crew. You lift your head, blink a few times, then straighten up. “What?”

“Cuntface here–” Theo jerks his thumb over his shoulder at Arik, who sputters and wheezes like a dying engine “–thinks he’s the strongest person in the crew. I wagered that title would probably go to you.”

“Oh.” You look around at everyone, then nod. “Okay.”

Arik huffs and crosses his arms over his chest. “There’s –there’s no way to prove that! Size isn’t everything!”

Sevika bites back a smirk as every single woman in the bar glances at each other and rolls their eyes.

“You’re shitting me, right?” Theo sneers at Arik. “Look at her, and look at you. It’s not going to be much of a competition.”

“You can’t prove that!” Arik insists, expression petulant.

Theo swivels in his seat to face you again. “Can you knock him out to shut him the fuck up?”

“No one’s doing that,” Sevika pipes up when everyone starts chattering and laughing excitedly. When people start grousing, she levels the room with a hard, final glare. “We’re not paying to get blood out of the floorboards. Again. If you all want to be idiots and knock the shit out of each other, you do it on your own time and floors, where I don’t have to clean up after your fucking mess.”

There’s a lull, and for a moment it seems like that’ll be it–

Silver perks up. “What about arm wrestling?”

“Hey,” Ran drawls, eyes lighting up. “That could work.”

“Anything to get this moron to shut the fuck up,” Theo grumbles.

Arik pouts, but says nothing.

When she realizes everyone is looking for her –presumably for permission, not that anyone’s ever bothered asking before–Sevika waves one hand dismissively. “Knock yourselves out.”

You watch as a table is cleared and Theo all but shoves Arik into a chair. When everyone looks expectantly at you, you shoot a wide-eyed, somewhat panicked glance her way.

Sevika offers you a half smile, then shrugs as if to say ‘it’s your choice.’

You shrug back, then sigh before standing. You stride over to the awaiting table and sit opposite a very grumpy, red-faced Arik.

Sevika shifts on her stool so she has a better view. Heat unfurls in her core as you prop one elbow against the table. She watches the way the thick muscles in your arm and forearm ripple with each movement. Damn.

Arik shifts in his seat. His eyelid twitches as he eyes your arm and hand. “I– I don’t know–”

“Take her fucking hand,” Theo growls.

Arik swallows hard, then props his elbow on the table and takes hold of your hand.

“On go,” Ran declares –they’ve left the bar and now stand beside the table. “Three… two… one… go!”

It’s not even a competition. If anything, it’s almost pathetic.

Arik tenses his arm –then squeaks when you push his hand down so fast he nearly falls out of his chair. The back of his hand hits the wooden surface of the table with a dull thonk. He lets out an angry snarl, yanks his hand away, then lurches to his feet and storms off with such force that his chair topples to the floor.

Everyone else cheers and claps as the front door of The Last Drop slams shut behind Arik.

“Fucking finally,” Theo mutters before running one hand through his curly hair. He looks at you and smiles appreciatively. “Thanks for shutting him up. Want a drink?”

You lean back and away. “I –I’m good, thanks.”

“That wasn’t even a challenge, though!” Silver pipes up, pouting.

“We already knew it wouldn’t be,” Theo fires back drily.

“But,” Ran interjects with a wry edge to their voice, “if we’re really trying to figure out who’s strongest…” 

Sevika presses her lips into a thin line when they turn and look directly at her. Don’t you fucking dare.

“Do you think you could beat Sev?”

Traitor.

You look at her, then lean back in your seat and grin. “Oh, yeah. Easy.”

Sevika feels her brows rise up, and she grins back despite being annoyed with Ran literal seconds ago. “Really? That’s the stance you want to take?”

“I mean…” You shrug and smirk. “It’s the truth.” You raise one eyebrow as buzzed laughter and inebriated runs through the gang. “What, you're too scared to test it?”

Them’s fighting words. Sevika cocks her head to the side, smirks right back, then shoves off her barstool and stalks over to the table.

Your eyes light up as she sits down across from you. You lean forward, prop one elbow on the tabletop, and grin. “It’s nothing personal, Sev.”

The crooked angle of your grin makes her heart flutter in a delightful, squirmy manner. She swallows hard, forces down the childish feelings of elation, and props one elbow on the table without dropping your gaze. She smirks, and revels in the way your eyes dance in the bar lighting. “Nothing personal, sweetheart,” she fires back, making sure her voice comes out lower and huskier.

Your grin broadens. You clasp her hand and squeeze tight while Theo counts down…

“Three, two, one–”

Oh shit.

It’s like shoving against a wall. Granted, Sevika’s shoved, kicked, and punched a number of walls in her day. She’s left her mark –even broken a few–on nearly all of them. She likes to think that she’s a reasonably strong, generally indestructible motherfucker.

You watch her for a few moments, expression placid –save for the smug, wicked, coy, sexy smirk on your lips. You let her try for a little longer, then inhale sharply and blink rapidly. “Wait, did we start already?”

“Fuck you,” Sevika grits out without any real malice.

You grin, showing a brilliant, alluring flash of teeth –and then you push.

“Shit.” Sevika strains against your arm.

To her credit, she feels your own arm waver slightly; to your credit, you brace your muscles, and it’s like pushing against a wall again.

She grits her teeth and tries to up the ante again. She curses when it doesn’t work, then grunts when you push her arm down another fraction of an inch.

“You okay, baby?” You grin when everyone else laughs (it’s a mix of delight and shock). “It’s okay if you need to tap.”

She grins back. Right now, she doesn’t care if she loses. Frankly, if you keep flirting with her like this, she’s the real winner in this scenario. “Keep it up, baby. We’ll see who taps.”

It’s a lost cause. You take your sweet time, push her hand down smooth and slow, and talk a lot of smack all the while.

She’s got less than an inch between the table top and the back of her right hand, now. You’re not even actively pushing, more just keeping her pinned at that point. She grunts, then laughs when your arm doesn’t budge. “Come on, you cunt. Just fucking finish it!”

You laugh in return and wink. “You’re getting tired in your old age, Sev.”

She grins. “Say that again and we’ll take this out back, bitch.”

You wink –then shove the back of her hand down against the table.

The crowd clustered around the table breaks into cheers.

Sevika can’t find it in herself to give a shit. Yeah, she lost, people are teasing her for it, whatever. She’ll kick their asses later, if she feels like it. Right now, you’re laughing, and smiling at her, and she technically got to hold your hand. That’s all she really cares about.

“What about the other one?”

Sevika blinks a few times, then frowns, confused. She looks up at Theo. “Huh?”

“Her other arm.” He’s talking to you, but he turns and gestures to her mech arm. “What about that one?”

“Uh…” Trepidation flashes across your face as you eye her prosthetic. You cringe and lean back in your chair. “I doubt it.”

It’s fair; her mech arm is reinforced, has motors that work the joints the way her muscles used to, and it’s heavy as shit. She’s crushed bones with her mechanical hand, just by clenching her hand into a fist.

But, still. In for a penny, stupid ways of flirting –all that shit.

She props her metal elbow on the table, resulting in a muted thud.

The table quakes beneath the weight of her arm.

She grins in a way that she hopes is taunting and enticing. She holds up her left hand and waggles her fingers. “You scared, sweetheart?”

Your eyes flash. You run your tongue along the inside of your lower lip. You brace your forearms against the table as you eye her metal hand. You hesitate, pressing your lips together, then say, “Just don’t crush my hand.”

“Nah.” She shakes her head. She’s not out for revenge.

Your shoulders relax. You cock your head from side to side, stretching your neck, then put your left elbow on the table and clasp her mechanical hand. “Bring it on. Sweetheart.”

It’s a more even match; she’d certainly hope so, given the fucking mechanical arm.

There’s a vein popping out on the side of your neck. Your face is pinched, expression one of intense focus and strain. The muscles in your arm and forearm stand out in full, glorious relief, defined and rippling as you fight against the force of her arm.

Her arm isn’t shaking this time, at least; such are the merits of steel reinforcement bars. But she’s not moving your hand, either. Sevika growls. The motors in her arm whir as she pushes harder.

You grunt and shove back. You bare your teeth. Your gaze is locked on where your two hands are joined. Your hands trembles from the sheer force of your exertion–

And then her hand lowers an inch.

Everyone else gasps. Exclamations and expletives roll through the bar.

“Fifty gold pieces says Mouse does it,” Theo says. 

“Bullshit,” Ran fires back. “She’ll get tired, first.”

Kharim pulls out a pad of paper and a pencil. “That’s fifty on Mouse, so far. Do I hear one hundred?”

“I’ll put twenty on Sev,” Silver says with a sweet smile.

“Really?” Sevika grunts as she pushes harder against your hand. “Only twenty?”

You let out a breathless, strained laugh –then push her hand down further.

“Who’s got another fifty on Mouse?” Kharim asks.

Too late, she realizes her prosthetic arm is actually working against her, in this situation. She has to work against the weight of the mech arm –which you can use to your advantage, naturally. The built in mechanical safeties are hosing her, too. Her arm is designed such that, at certain angles or certain levels of exertion, the gears and motors will give to whatever she’s working against. It prevents damage to the internal mechanisms and bending the internal support structures. It’s invaluable for the longevity of her prosthetic, but it also means she can’t mindlessly strain against your hand like she could with her right arm. Her only hope is that her left arm can outmatch yours in raw strength.

Normally, she’d go all in on that bet. Normally –unless her opponent was doped to the gills on Shimmer–there wouldn’t even be enough force in the picture for the failsafes to override the locking mechanisms.

You growl, teeth bared in a glorious snarl, and shove her metal hand lower.

She can’t even find it in herself to be mad. One, she’s not some mealy-mouthed bitch who needs to be the strongest person in the room at all times; she, unlike some people (Arik), is confident in herself and her abilities. Two, it’s frankly impressive. It’s an unrepentant display of raw strength, and she’s not above respecting it. Three…

It’s hot.

She’s torn between focusing on resisting you and watching the muscles in your arm flex. Her mild buzz isn’t helping, either. In hindsight, should’ve stopped with the second glass. It’s taking far too much focus not to just gawk, to grin and simper like an idiot, and she likes to think she still has her pride –which is also why she’s not just giving up. After all, she has her pride. Sevika growls when you force her hand lower, then doubles down and pushes back. Maybe not for much longer, with how this is going. Fuck.

You grit your teeth. There’s sweat glistening along your hairline (which might be her only other saving grace, since her mech arm can’t get tired). You snarl, then grip her hand tighter.

Sevika swears when her arm suddenly jerks downward. She nearly topples out of her chair, saved only by managing to plant her feet beneath the table. She catches herself, blinks–

It’s over.

You shove her metal knuckles against the table with a thud –hard enough that the wood dents inward where her steel knuckle guard hits the surface.

The crowd goes nuts, loses their minds, whatever. If she’s being honest, she’s really not paying attention to it. A distant fragment of her brain registers the squaring of bets, exchanging of coin, but–

You’re still holding her hand.

A larger, deeply buried part of her is furious that she doesn’t have better sensory input on her left hand. She can detect pressure and temperature, rudimentary shit, but she can’t feel the calluses on your palm, or the precise texture of your skin. She can’t really gauge how thick your hand is in hers.

You’re still panting, somewhat dazed as you stare down at your joined hands. Slowly, your eyes trace up the line of her mech arm, up to her face, where you take in her stunned expression. You swallow, quick, then grin.

You’re breathing hard. Your skin glistens faintly with warmth. Your hair looks tousled, slightly sweat trapped. And your grin practically glows.

It’s the closest she’s ever been to seeing what you look like after sex. Sevika can feel her mind filing every single detail of how you look away for future masturbatory reference. She grins back, slow and a bit dazzled. “Shit.”

You let out a soft, quiet laugh. You drop her gaze for a moment, but when you look back up your eyes shine unabated joy.

You’re not looking away. You’re not pulling away. You’re not letting go of her hand.

Do it, a voice that sounds irritatingly like Ran’s whispers in her mind. Do it, you fucking coward. Sevika licks her lips, then leans forward, hoping that she comes across as conspiratorial and collected. “I–”

“Aw, don’t feel too bad, Sev.”

The sudden intrusion feels more like an assault. Fake, sweet perfume cloys at her nose. There’s arms around her neck, and unwanted weight in her lap.

Silver’s face looms into view. She peers down through her lashes, lips posed in a perfect, alluring pout. “It’s not–”

Whatever else Silver says goes in one ear and out the other. She’s looking over the smaller woman’s shoulder, instead.

You pull your hand back across the table. Your smile slips away, and your shoulders bunch up ever so slightly. Back to the usual mask of the careful, quiet mouse.

Godsdammit. Sevika shoves Silver out of her lap and stands with a snarl. “Fuck off.” She stomps away and up the stairs, to where Silco’s office and a few private rooms are. “Everyone, out! Tonight’s done!” She ignores the groans and jeers following her, storms into Silco’s office, and slams the door shut behind her so hard that it rattles in its setting.

Silco’s office is mercifully dark. Quiet.

Sevika collapses onto the quilted velvet couch tucked into the corner of the office. She drops her head into her hands and scrubs at her face. Janna’s left fucking tit, that was a disaster. She sits up, only to slump against the couch like a dejected teenager. This is never going to work out.

If she was anyone else, she might cry –out of sheer frustration, if nothing else. Since she’s not anyone else, she helps herself to a cigar from Silco’s stash.

She only gets as far as rummaging through his desk for the cutter. (Jinx must have absconded with it. Again.) Something in her hindbrain makes her go still; an old, well-tested instinct that says ‘something isn’t right.’

Sevika freezes. Her eyes scan the darkness for any signs of intruders, or one of Jinx’s traps. She strains her ears; aside from the faint, scuttling noises of stray pests, it’s silent.

Too silent.

There should be more talk coming from downstairs; she hadn’t really expected everyone to listen to her when she ordered them all to clear out. There should be music playing, people arguing, clacks from the balls on the pool table. At the very least, there should be complaining and the noises of a final clear down.

She’d half-expected Silver to follow her upstairs. Or maybe Ran, at least. But there’s no sounds of someone climbing upstairs, or Silver’s high-pitched voices, or even creaking floorboards in the hall outside.

Sevika pulls out a knife she keeps tucked in a sheath hidden behind the waistband of her pants. She creeps forward, deadly silent, until she reaches the door of Silco’s office. She gingerly places her right hand on the doorknob, until it’s completely encapsulated by her grip, then slowly turns the handle. Once the latch is fully retracted, she tucks herself behind the door and inches it open. She waits for a beat, then another, then peers around the corner.

The bar is empty.

Now that the door’s open, she can hear the sounds of someone rummaging around the main bar floor. There’s no conversation, though; it’s too quiet to be the usual crew, for another matter.

Sevika stalks down the hall. She quietly, efficiently clears each room before she passes it, until she reaches the end of the outer wall, where the balcony begins. She tucks herself into the shadows, then peers around the corner.

You’re down on the bar floor, putting the remaining chairs up on the tables.

Sevika watches you for a moment, somewhat dumbfounded. Where the fuck is everyone else? She blinks, until her brain finally processes that The Last Drop has not been broken into by assassins or other hooligans, then steps around the corner and into the full light of the bar. She taps the railing of the balcony with her metal hand to alert you to her presence. When you look up, she gestures around aimlessly. “Where’d they go?”

You look around, then back up at her and shrug with one shoulder. “You said to get out.”

“Doesn’t mean they’d actually listen.”

Your gaze cuts away from hers. You duck your head, then go back to putting up the chairs. “Might’ve pushed ‘em. Enforced the order.” You give a one shouldered shrug. “Thought you wanted ‘em gone.”

Sevika grunts and nods. Fair enough. At least, now, she doesn’t have to deal with Silver lingering around. For lack of knowing what else to do, she watches you as you continue tidying things up for the night. “We don’t pay you to do that.”

You shrug; your back’s to her, now, as you work your way around a circular table. “Doesn’t really matter. Thieram deserves a night off, every now and then.”

There’s not much point in loitering on the balcony and staring at you like a mooning idiot. She strides across the length of the balcony, tromps down the stairs, then crosses the distance to the table you’re working in three strong steps. She grabs one of the remaining chairs, flips it upside down with ease, then hooks the seat of the chair on the table top.

You go still for a moment. You watch her, gaze following her every movement, until you relax again and resume working. “‘M sorry ‘bout earlier.”

She nearly trips over the chair she’s picking up. Sevika stalls, blinks, then sets the chair back on the floor and levels you with an incredulous, confused stare. “What?”

“For kicking your ass.” The corner of your mouth briefly ticks up in a self-satisfied smirk, but it washes away to true contrition. “Wasn’t trying to humiliate you ‘n front of everyone.”

“I–” She pinches the bridge of her nose. Can’t imagine where that narrative came from. “I’m not. You didn’t.” She hangs the chair from the table, then scoffs, indignant. “Fuck’s sake, I’m not Arik.”

You smirk, but stay still as you watch her for a few moments. “You were mad about something.”

“I was mad at Silver,” Sevika grouses, careful to avoid making eye contact. And her lousy sense of timing.

You let her get the last few chairs, opting instead to grab a tray and collect stray glasses and empty beer bottles. “You two okay?”

She snorts. “We’re not involved enough to be ‘okay’ or otherwise. We’ve fucked before. End of story.”

“...Did she do something to you?”

The tight, lethal quietness in your voice gets her attention. She straightens up, meets your gaze, and shakes her head. “No. She just gets on my nerves now and then, s’all.”

You grunt, understanding, then add a couple more glasses to your tray before carrying the lot over to the bar.

Sevika grabs a couple stray, half-empty bottles of whiskey, tequila, and vodka, then follows partially in your wake. She stops at the bar counter, watching as you round the end so you can dispose of the beer bottles and set the used glasses in the sink. She sets the half-consumed bottles on the counter, then leans against the neon light-edged lip while she watches you. “Gotta say, it was pretty impressive.” She smirks when you half-turn, brows lightly drawn together, then waggles her metal fingers. “Figured I’d have you licked.”

You snort, then shake your head. “Might’ve.” You set the last of the glasses in the sink, then drop the beer bottles in the recycling can. “Probably would’ve if we’d gone longer. You’d have me beat on stamina.”

She can’t stop her automatic, teasing, too sultry for its own good reply. “Oh, I doubt that.”

You do a quick double take.You stare at her over your shoulders, eyes the size of dinner plates. Then, your lips press together before quirking upwards in a shy smile. You laugh softly. “Yeah, well, your mechanics would’ve won, in the end.” You toss the last of the bottles into the recycling can, then turn and step to the bar. “Figured it was just best to–” you draw your fingers across your neck in a quick slash and click your tongue “–cut things quick, override the locking mechanisms.”

“Smart,” Sevika purrs.

You lick your lips, then grin. You eye her for a moment, shifting from foot to foot –then, you grab the remaining bottles and crouch so you can stow them beneath the bar counter. “Course, helps that you’re shit at arm wrestling, too.”

“Excuse me?” she laughs, caught off guard and bemused. “Run that by me again?”

“You’re shit at arm wrestling.” You chuckle as you stand. “Your form’s terrible. Makes you easy to beat, even if I wasn’t stronger than you.”

She grins wide, exhilarated. Fighting words. “Oh, is that how it is?”

You plant your palms against the bartop. “‘S how it seems to me.” You smirk –which grows into a smile as she looks you over–then prop your right arm against the counter. “I could show you a couple tricks. Improve your odds a bit.”

She takes the bait like the happiest, dumbest fish that ever lived and sets her right elbow atop the counter. “Teach me your ways, oh wise one.”

“Right off the bat–” You reach forward and adjust the angle of her arm. “‘S really not about raw power. I mean, it helps, but angles are a lot more important.” Your hands slide along the length of her arm, adjusting things until you’re satisfied with how she’s positioned. You nod to yourself, then move to her wrist. You hold her right hand with both of yours. “Gotta think about how you’re holding your hand, too. Too many people wind up pushing with their forearms. Means that they got their hands at the wrong angle, most of the time. You want to be pushing with your upper arm and shoulder.”

“Whatever you say, coach,” she drawls, layering on the sarcasm to –hopefully–hide how breathless she is.

You snort, then lower your left hand and grip her right hand with yours –assume the position. “Alright. Try now.”

She does –not with as much vigor as she used in the initial match, but she still puts decent effort into it. Her eyebrows spike high when she feels less strain than earlier. “Shit.”

You flash her a lopsided grin. “See? Knowing what you’re doing helps.”

“Bite me.”

You fake a grimace. “Not until you shower first. I don’t know where you’ve been.”

“You implying something?”

“I’ve seen how many people you can beat up in a week, Sev.”

She chuckles, then shrugs in concession. “Fair enough.” She grips your hand tighter and smirks wickedly before shoving against your hand, hard. “Hope you’re ready to join the list–”

You grunt –then brace against her onslaught and force her hand the other way.

“Shit!” Sevika strains against your hand, but it’s veritably useless as you slowly push her hand downward (at least you have to work harder for it, this time). “Son of a bitch –motherfucker!”

“Still stronger than you,” you fire back as you finally pin the back of her hand against the bartop. You smile, impish and sweet. “But that was a good try.” You grin when she glowers at you, then toss your head back and laugh when she flips you off with her left hand.

She can’t think of a retort; the wrestling tugged your shirt off kilter, and your laugh exposed something new –fresh, smooth ink along the side of your neck, previously hidden by your collar. She stares, tracing the way the tendrils of the flowers curve around your neck and down your clavicle before disappearing under your shirt. “That’s new.”

You look down at her, blinking rapidly, then crane your neck to look down when she gestures loosely at your chest. “Oh. Yeah.” You shrug with the opposite shoulder. “Wanted to do something for myself. Cover up some of the shit I got inside.” You hesitate, then swallow hard and ask. “Do –do you wanna see the rest of it?”

“Sure.” The meaning of your offer doesn’t really hit until you let go of her hand so you can start unbuttoning your top. Sevika locks her knees to keep from toppling over as all the blood rushes Southward from her head. Janna, help me.

Mercifully, you only undo the top three buttons on your shirt. Unmercifully, that gives you enough leeway to push the right side of your shirt down over your shoulder, revealing more of your chest and your neck.

Oh, and the tattoo.

It’s pretty. It’s a good piece, too, done by someone who knew what they were doing. The design is a dense cluster of flowers that fans up the side of your neck and down over your collarbone.

“That’s real pretty,” Sevika ekes out, voice gone to gravel. She reaches up to touch it, but catches herself before her hand leaves the bar. Don’t startle her. “Do you mind?”

It takes you a moment, but you look down when she gestures with her flesh hand. “Oh.” You let out a soft, trembling breath. Your throat flexes as you swallow. “Yeah –go for it.”

Everything that follows feels like a dream. The world seems to take on a warm, golden hue that overpowers the glaring neon lights and the dark shadow of night outside. It feels like she’s moving through molasses, achingly slow as she lifts her hand towards your neck.

Your skin is unbelievably soft beneath her fingertips. The lines of ink stretch slightly as she traces down your neck and over your shoulder.

“This okay?” Sevika murmurs.

“Yeah.”

Something about your heavy, trembling exhale makes her look up.

You’re staring down at her with wide, dark eyes. Your lips are parted, and you’re practically panting despite standing still.

But you’re not pulling away. You’re not shaking. If anything, you’re practically melting beneath her hand. And your gaze is locked on her face –practically zeroed in on her mouth…

Oh.

She owes Ran a drink. Or another kick in the shin. Maybe both.

This, however, is at least more familiar territory –so long as she plays her cards right.

Various options flit through her mind, but they all desiccate before they reach her tongue. She quickly finds herself locking up instead as she tries to figure out what the fuck to say. Shitshitshitshitshit–

(She’s never been more grateful that you kicked everyone out. Ran would never let her live this down.)

“Ask her out, or get over it.”

Sevika swallows hard. Go big or go home. Not like the world’s gonna end if she says ‘no.’ She clears her throat. “Anyone ever tell you that you’re really fucking attractive?”

“I–” Your eyes go wide as you sputter. Your gaze flicks between her eyes and her mouth. “Not –no. Not really.”

“Shame,” Sevika drawls. She traces her thumb down the stem of one of the flowers inked into your neck, then looks back up at you. “You’d think they’d have eyes. I’ve noticed since the first time we met.”

You snort, equanimity somewhat restored. “What, in an illegal prison fight club soaked in the blood of others?”

She smirks and winks at you. “You made it work.”

You draw your lower lip between your teeth as you smile. You duck your head bashfully, then brace your forearms against the countertop –which puts you closer to her height. “I hope you won’t be offended if I say that I didn’t notice you ‘like that’ from the start.”

Her gut drops. “Oh?”

You shake your head, gaze still glued on the countertop. “I was, uh, a little concerned with surviving –making sure you didn’t knock my teeth out with your metal fist, that sort of thing.” You let out a little laugh, then look at her. “But I noticed later.”

Warmth blooms in her chest and abdomen. She grins, soft and slow. “Really?” Her grin grows when you smile shyly and nod. “Well, shit. Lucky me.” She strokes her thumb along your tattoo again; satisfaction curls in her stomach when you shiver.

“I–” You lick your lips and look at her eyes, then her lips, then back up, then back down again, then back up again. “I don’t…” Your gaze locks onto her lips when she smirks; your pupils blow wide, and you let out a ragged, heavy breath. “I’d really like to kiss you right now.”

Heady elation blooms in her chest and quickly spreads through her body. “That,” she murmurs as she slides her fingers beneath your chin and leans in, “sounds great to me.”

Your lips are soft against hers. Hesitant. You freeze, scarcely even breathing.

But you’re not pulling away –or panicking–so she decides to stay the course. She presses her lips a bit more firmly against yours, then smirks when you let out a quiet moan and angle your head towards hers. There we go. After a few moments, she breaks the kiss and pulls back incrementally to assess your interest level.

You’re trembling. There’s a faint glow of sweat on your forehead. Your breaths come ragged and fast, chest rising and falling heavily. Your eyelids are half-lidded, pupils blown so wide that your eyes nearly look black.

Before she can do anything, you lean in and kiss her again; this time, it’s her turn to moan against your mouth.

It’s clumsy. It’s easy to tell that you don’t have much –if any–experience in this department. But your unabashed eagerness more than makes up for lacking finesse.

Sevika gently grasps your jaw with her right hand, guiding you through the series of kisses that follow. She carefully angles your head as she pleases, and pulls back intermittently to both catch her breath and see what you’ll do. When you keep following her lead, she decides to nip at your lower lip –just to see if it’ll draw you out of your shell more.

You let out a throaty growl when her teeth graze your lower lip –and then you pull away.

A mix of disappointment and fear flash through her stomach –but it all drains away when you vault over the counter and land next to her. She smirks as you crowd into her space, but frown when genuine trepidation settles over your face. “What?”

Your brows pinch together. “I–” You clear your throat when your voice cracks. “I don’t… I don’t know what to do with my hands.”

Oh. That’s all. She smiles, lax and confident, then places her hands on your broad shoulders. “Touch me, sweetheart.”

“Where?”

She slides her hands down your chiseled arms, then takes your hands and places them on her hips. “Anywhere.”

You’re too still at first –nerves driven by inexperience. But you loosen up when she nips at your lower lip again. You draw in a guttural breath, then squeeze her hips tighter when she curls her fingers into your waist. You press closer to her when she slides her tongue against yours. When she slides her right hand up the back of your neck and tugs at the soft hair at your nape, you growl, then slide your hands around her ass and squeeze.

Finally. Sevika moans softly and arches against you. She wraps her right arm around the back of your neck, so she can keep you close, and rests her left hand on your hip. She plunders your mouth with her tongue, then moans again when you grope her ass more firmly. She hooks one metal finger through one of the belt loops on your pants and tugs you closer –then gasps when you shove against the bar.

You crowd against her, kissing her fiercely, eagerly. Your hands cup her ass and lift, forcing her onto the balls of her feet so you have better access to her.

Surprise flits up her spine. She’s not used to being in this position; most women come to her to be manhandled, not the other way around. But she can see the appeal of it; there’s a certain giddiness in the gut that accompanies it, like the hang time from jumping across rooftops.

The kiss devolves into something artless and hungry. The two of you meet each other in the middle, pressed against each other like teenagers in a closet.

She’s starting to get into that state where she feels like she’s melting into you, and vice versa. The bar, the faint drone of passersby always present in the Lanes, the buzz of the neon lights that wrap around the bartop, the arm wrestling match less than an hour ago –all of it’s gone, blurred into background coloration like splotches on one of those fancy, impression-type paintings, for which Pilties drop the equivalent of a Trencher’s life earnings (and then some). There’s that familiar, ravenous ache in her cunt. She ought to ask you back to her place; The Last Drop hardly seems poignant enough for your first time. But the notion of stopping your eager exploration of her body is downright offensive –especially when your open mouth catches her jaw and sends arousal curling through her gut.

You pause when she tips her head back. A few ragged pants fan across the sensitized, blood-hot skin of her neck. You swallow, then clear your throat. “I –is this–”

“Yes.” She curls her right hand around the back of your neck, then gently presses your forward until you lean the rest of the way in and press your lips against her throat. Her eyelids flutter as you trail soft, closed mouth kisses over the hollow of her throat. She moans softly, and her fingers curl into your short hair. Fuck. She waits for a bit, letting you explore, but pipes up again when she feels you growing more hesitant –nerves winning out over exploration. “Use your tongue.” She shudders when you lick beneath her jaw. “Attagirl.”

The praise does something for you. You moan into her skin, then repeat the motion again. You swirl your tongue against her throat, mimicking the way the two of you had kissed seconds before.

“That’s it,” Sevika encourages you, eyes rolling back in her head. She rolls her hips against you, then groans when you press closer, neatly pinning her against the bar. “Good girl.”

You whine, loud and broken, then lift. You half lay her out on the bar, then support the rest of her by locking your arms just beneath her ass. You bend over her and bury your face in her neck, devouring her like a starved stray.

Sevika locks her ankles behind your back. She clutches at the back of your shirt with her right hand, and braces herself against the bartop with her left arm. She’s in the perfect position to grind against you, so that’s just what she does.

A small, idle fragment of her mind notes just how great this is. Yes, she enjoys having her way with women –and she’ll get to you soon enough–but there’s something to be said for receiving. It’s a new spin on “being eaten alive,” and she’s never been happier to be dinner.

She slides her fingers into your hair when your mouth trails lower, towards her clavicle. “Good girl.” She gasps, then tightens her grip on your hair when you drag your teeth over her collarbone. “That’s it –good girl, good girl–”

You moan and grind your hips against hers–

Something crashes in the alleyway outside. There’s a loud slam, followed by the crystalline crack of shattering glasses. An enraged, muffled shout ensues, followed by more heavy thudding.

You both freeze.

She recovers first. A few minutes of hearing proves it’s just a couple of angry drunks going at it –she can hear slurred, if muffled, arguing and grunting that accompanies being punched. Idiots. She turns back to you–

You’re completely stiff. Your eyes are wide, gaze flicking around the bar. You’ve gone from holding her to gripping the edge of the bar top.

Sevika winces faintly when she hears your knuckles crack. She opens her mouth to reassure you–

Another thud makes you flinch –and then you press down against her.

Sevika grunts. She tries to sit up, only for you to push her back down. She stops struggling when you use your arm to cover the top of her head. What the–

There’s something so deeply protective about the gesture that it makes her brain short circuit. You’re literally covering her with your body, as though the ceiling’s about to collapse on top of the both of you.

It’s sweet. It’s also bewildering because nothing bad is fucking happening. It’s just drunks in the alley; they’ll probably pass out long before they could ever beat each other to death.

Sevika gingerly splays her fingers against your back, between your shoulder blades. She murmurs your name, but gets no response –not even a glance of recognition. Her stomach drops when another round of shouting makes you flinch. She feels your chest push against hers as your breathing speeds up –and okay, that’s enough, time to divert things. She says your name, louder this time, then carefully cups the side of your face with her right hand. “Hey, baby. It’s okay. Just look at me, alright?”

You jolt when her thumb sweeps across your cheek. You do look down at her, though, and let out a shaky breath when you meet her gaze.

She revels, just for a moment, in how quickly you melt again under her attention. You’re still tense –you haven’t let up your death grip on the bar top–but your shoulders loosen up and your breathing slows a bit. You swallow hard, then lean every so slightly into her touch.

Focus. She can already feel herself getting sucked back into dreamy, brainless bliss. Focus, focus, focus. She blinks hard, then clears her throat. “Hey. Let’s get out of here, yeah? My place is quieter.” She pushes up on her left arm so the counter isn’t digging into her back. “More comfortable.”

“Oh.” Your eyes go wide. “Uh–”

Sevika swallows a grimace. Shit. Maybe Ran was right; she’s rusty, too eager, and now she’s pushing too fast. “It’s okay if you don’t–”

“No, no,” you cut her off. “We can –I just–” You set her down, then lick your lips as you rock from foot to foot. “My bed’s probably bigger.” You shrug and shove your hands in your pants pockets. “That’s all.”

Only several years of playing cards keeps her from sagging in relief. She nods, trying to process as panic flashes and ebbs, then takes a moment to study you. She notes the tightness in your shoulders, the way you’ve got your head ducked, and presses her lips together faintly. “I don’t want to make you do anything you don’t want to do.”

Your eyes flash, and you step closer to her. “It’s not,” you growl, “an issue of want.” You swallow, then let out a self-deprecating laugh –which, fortunately, prompts you to relax a little. “I just won’t know what I’m doing, s’all.”

“I can work with that.” Sevika closes the distance between the two of you, gripping your hips when you bend down and kiss her again. She savors the feeling of your lips for a moment, then pulls away and grins up at you. “Lead the way, sweetheart.”

[onlyangellucifer]

Morning, Baby - Part 1

Summary: Y/N wakes up in a bed next to her dad's bestfriend, Harry one morning. Confused at where things lie, she wrestles with if the relationship is worth the risk.

Warnings: smut, angst, age gap (Harry is 30, reader is 23), alcohol consumption, unprotected sex (please wrap it before you do it!)

Authors Note: This part is 1268 words long, so sorta short. No smut involved this time yall, i'm so sorry. I'm a bit rusty at writing but any feedback is welcomed and encouraged! (please be kind). You can read the sneak peak here. There is a time jump, however, it's noted with a line!

dad's bestfriend!Harry

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The birds chirping while the sunlight made it’s appearance through her sheer curtains was what y/n woke up to every morning. She used to love the way it woke her up, but lately she’s grown irritated with it. Then again she wasn’t out until all hours of the night in the past like she is now. She wasn’t much of a partier, in fact she loathed being there. She hated how the room always reeked of weed, sweaty bodies, and booze. However, since she was in college now and had adult friends, she went. She was a shy person, never really talked to anyone and kept to herself. Her friends dubbed her the “mom friend” and it was fitting. She would nurse the same drink all night, if she even drank, or she’d fill a red solo cup with water and tell people it was vodka. She made sure everyone got home safe and had everything they needed for the hangover that was sure to follow. However, with it being summer time and college was on a break, that meant her friends wanted to go out more and she would be dragged with. Too nice to say no or tell them she wanted to have an early night.

That’s probably why she groaned, flopping a pillow over her head before looking over at the clock, 8am. She normally would sleep till noon, seeing as she got home at 4am. Her parents were trusting, never gave her a curfew due to the fact that she never really broke their trust or gave them a reason to. Today was her birthday, turning 23. Her parents insisted on throwing her party, she was an only child so her birthdays were always extravagant. Her dad was a CEO at a major law firm and her mom owned a flower shop in town, so they were pretty set on money and anything y/n wanted was what y/n got. Well, not anything per say. There was one thing or one person that she wanted but never had the balls to actually make a move on, Harry.

Harry was always around, for as long as she could remember. He was one of the most successful lawyers at her dad’s firm and thus her dad took a liking to him very early on. Despite being 10 years younger than her own father. Her dad was always inviting him out. Whether it be golfing, out on the lake on their family boat, or to family dinners, Harry was there. She wasn’t sure when she started to gain an attraction to Harry, she just knew she wasn’t crazy for feeling that way. All of her friends always gawked over him. His tan skin was complimented with the dark ink of his tattoos, the cross necklace dangled on his chest and his abs were toned perfectly. It was like he was a walking Greek statue and the god’s made him a sin walking. She does remember the first time she masturbated to the thought of him though, or the image of him more or less.

She was 17 at the time, she wasn’t a very sexually active teenager, which her parents were thankful for, but she still had needs like anyone else. It was Summertime, the sun was beating down on their backyard as people were gathered in groups or in the pool. Her dad had thrown a pool party to celebrate the first day of summer and the big win of the company, which of course was achieved by Harry. Harry showed up wearing patterned button down shirt, overtop laid a sweater vest, while his toned legs were hidden by plaid trousers, which hugged him in all the right places. His hair was styled perfectly, but also messily which lead her mind to think about how it would feel between her fingers as she tugged on it, his name rolling off her cherry red lips. The real torture came when he was eating watermelon and the juice dribbled down his chin, his ring clad hand wiped it away. She was trying not to gawk but all she could think of was her juices dripping down his chin. Her thighs rubbed together, trying her best not to drip on the chair, clad only in a red bikini.

Needless to say, she touched herself that night thinking of how his hands or more so his mouth would feel like on her.

He never flirted with her though, he always kept things innocent and polite, well at least while she was underage.

She sighed loudly into her empty room, deciding it’s time to get up before her mom came to drag her out of bed. While it was her 23rd birthday, she still had to help setup and these were the times she wished she had siblings to do that instead. She heard voices downstairs, footsteps rushing around and then she heard him. His accent echoed through the halls and a smile spread on her face.

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The night was filled with drinks, laughter, birthday gifts and a cake with her face on it. She tried to keep her eyes to herself, but how could she when Harry was dressed in only olive green swim shorts, the July air was still humid and the theme was pool party. She wore her olive green bikini, not meaning to match him but happy regardless. He had shown up wearing a white tanktop, backwards cap and navy blue shorts. So, there was no way to tell that they’d be matching. Y/N couldnt keep her eyes off Harry, and Harry couldn’t keep his eyes off her.

He’s had an attraction building since she turned 19 and lately it’s been harder to keep his eyes and hands to himself. He was unsure if she’d have any feelings back, but the vodka redbull her father handed him was clouding his mind. Y/N laid in that olive green bikini next to her two other friends, Mary and Char. She felt eyes on her and was pleased when her eyes caught Harry’s before he looked away. Her own alcoholic beverage was clouding her mind.

That’s probably how they ended up here. In her room, her back pressed against the door as his lips found her neck and her hands found his hair. The chocolate curls felt smooth and soft in her fingers as she tugged him back to her mouth. His lips tasted like orange chapstick and his breath smelled like mint and vodka, which was instantly her favorite smell. She cursed softly as he pulled away, both of them painting before he let out the first words since they entered the room;

“I hate to interrupt this, baby but.. I think we should get back to the party before they come looking for us and find us in a compromising position.. Continue this at my place?”

She wanted to whine, wanting this to continue but she knew he was right. They were only supposed to be gone to get extra towels and had been gone for a good 10 minutes. She nodded her head reluctantly before responding with a simple kiss to his lips before they pulled away from each other, straightening out their clothes and unlocking the door.

They grabbed the towels from the hall closet outside her room, both of them eagerly awaiting the end of the party to continue what just happened. Both of them were still unsure if it was the alcohol that was making this happen or that they both shared mutual feelings, but that was half the fun.

[maspers]

Ranking the Miracucast by good they are at playing UNO

Marinette: She has a strategy. She plays to win. Her family has been playing UNO since before Marinette was in nursery school. She is ruthless and takes no chances. There are no allies in UNO. ...She still ends up losing more often than not because that's just how UNO is. 7/10

Alya: She's mostly just at the table for fun, and really enjoys how into it her friends get. 4/10

Adrien: Yes. 10/10

Nino: You would not expect this man to be good at UNO. But everyone just kind of... ignores him? He just casually goes along causing no drama, until he's the first person to call "UNO!" and everyone wheels around in their seats to face him with shocked looks on their faces. Adrien, however, can see right through Nino's facade and the moment Nino says "UNO!" both of them know that it's on like Donkey Kong. 9/10

Chloe: She has no idea whatsoever how to play, but she refuses to lose to Marinette. There is drama. There is house rules. There is drama about house rules. But they keep inviting Chloe back to the table because when she plays she also *hosts* the game at Le Grand Paris, and while they may not be good at much the Bourgeois family DOES know how to host events better than anyone else. 5/10

Sabrina: Initially didn't participate and was just there to act as Chloe's valet. Then one day she joined the table and curbstomped everyone, then went back to helping set up the snacks like it never happened. This has happened a couple times since then, and nobody understands it. Adrien and Nino have begged her to teach them, and she acts like she doesn't know what they're talking about. The only person to ever match Sabrina in a game of UNO was Marinette's mother Sabine, and all the players that were involved in that game signed an NDA stating they can't reveal who won. I have no justification for any of this, but I can feel it in my bones. 11/10

Mylene: Surprisingly vicious, but experienced players have no difficulty dispatching her. 6/10

Ivan: Unfortunately he is not very good at this game. There was one time he actually won though, with a pretty good strategy, and his smile was brighter than the sun. Since then everyone has wanted him to win again, but none of them are willing to sacrifice their own chances of victory for it. Ivan doesn't mind. He's just happy to be included. 2/10

Rose: Everyone expects her to be secretly good at this game for some reason. She doesn't understand why. She's pretty average at the game, but enjoys when she plays a card normally and everyone else glances around in a panic. This is fun! 4/10

Juleka: By herself she's a little better than average, but she's a real menace when Luka is also in the room. She knows all his tells and micro-expressions, and since Luka is Luka (see below) that means she knows everything. There have been talks of banning the Couffaine Twins from playing in the same round as each other, but such a ban was pretty impossible to enforce. 8/10 by proxy

Kim: In regular UNO he's a complete failure, but when the group is playing with large amounts of house rules he starts doing really really well. Not on purpose. Most of the time, however, he just shows up to eat snacks and arm wrestle with Ivan in the background while everyone else plays. 3/10

Max: Like with every game he's played, he knows ALL the strategies. Card percentages, color probabilities, the works. He should, by all accounts, be an expert at this game. But he does not understand the Heart Of The Cards and so he keeps losing. 6/10

Alix: Is definitely cheating. All the time. Everyone knows it. And it hurts, because Alix is legitimately good at the game too. Her classmates are begging for a regular game, but she just loves seeing what weird stuff she can get away with. Alix/10

Nathaniel: He wasn't particularly interested in the game originally, but then someone (Chloe maybe?) commissioned him to make a massive custom deck with original art based on the superheroes. Since he makes the cards, he somehow also became the judge on what can and cannot become a permanent house rule, since that often leads to new cards being made. He's still really awful at the game itself, but everyone showers him with praise and view his title as Deck Keeper as worthy of unparalleled respect. And since he made the cards, he's the only one capable of countering Heart Of The Cards bullcrap. 5/10

Lila: Has literally never played UNO before, though she will never admit it. 0/10

Luka: The jury's still out on whether or not his inner music hyper-empathy counts counts as cheating or not. Since they can't prove he's using it to know what everyone is feeling about their cards and plays, he's still permitted at the table. But the fact remains that he's very good at this the game. 8/10

Kagami: She has absolutely no idea what she is doing. The amount of cards in her hand sometimes gets so large Felix or Adrien has to provide one of their hands to help hold them. But she is also having the most fun she's had in a long, long time. So let's focus on the positives, shall we? -10/10

Marc: He swears the deck is not rigged in his favor. Nathaniel asserts there's no way he COULD rig the deck in Marc's favor, and Max ran the numbers to prove it. But somehow every time the group starts a new round Marc draws his cards and yup full of wild cards again. 6/10

Ondine: This was Kim's idea of a date. Ondine was not impressed. But she did stay for the snacks, and at least gave it the old college try. UNO just isn't her vibe, and that's okay. 1/10

Aurore: Doesn't usually play with everyone else, but she DOES know how to play, and one time she was asked to join a game when most of the group was unavailable and they needed more players. It was a bit awkward because she's a big Adrien fangirl and is used to playing with a different set of house rules, but they made it work, and fun was had. 4/10

Felix: He tries. He tries so hard. Everyone was wary when he joined the table, but there fears were unfounded because Felix is absolutely pathetic at UNO. He has the rules memorized. He keeps track of all the house rules meticulously, which interestingly means he's very good at keeping the game running smoothly. Everyone turns to him when there's uncertainty about a particular situation. But he just can not win. Ever. He doesn't even get close. He's managed to call "UNO" a grand total of once in his lifetime, and that was because the rest of his cards ended up in Kagami's hand instead somehow. It's awful. It's mortifying. He's a chess prodigy, an expert tactician, how has he been reduced to this? 1/10

Zoe: Was really excited to play, and let out a squeal of joy when she saw Nath's custom cards. She knows how to play really well, and was really quick on the uptake when it came to all the house rules, too. Since she's around technically the group no longer needs Chloe to host, but Chloe took that as a challenge to be an EVEN. BETTER. HOST. Zoe is not complaining, less work for her. And she still beats he sister most of the time, so it's all good. 7/10

[classicslesbianopinions]

Ancient Woman Thunderdome 2023

FINAL ROUND (Round 6): Atalanta vs. Medea!

The rules: Vote based on who would win in a fight, NOT who you like more. Consider factors such as physical prowess, intelligence or cunning, and magical ability.

If the character has multiple non-godly forms, consider the one you believe to be more powerful. If the character is a goddess for a portion of their life, please only consider their mortal or non-godly form.

The fighters:

Fighter: Atalanta Source(s): Apollodorus's Library, Ovid's Metamorphoses, various other mythological sources Bio: Atalanta was a huntress associated with Artemis. She was a virgin who lived in the wilderness, and at one point killed two centaurs who tried to rape her. She may or may not have sailed and fought with the Argonauts, and defeated Peleus in a wrestling match at Pelias's funeral games. When Artemis sent a boar to Calydon to punish the king for not sacrificing to her, Atalanta joined the hunt and drew first blood. Later, her father found her and tried to get her to marry. Atalanta, knowing she was faster than just about anyone, said she would marry anyone who could beat her in a footrace, but if the suitor lost, he would be killed. Many men were killed, until Hippomenes prayed to Aphrodite and received three golden apples, which he threw to the side during the race to distract her. She did marry him, and, after she bore his child, they were both turned into lions in retaliation for having sex in a sacred area.

Fighter: Medea Source(s): Apollonius of Rhodes' Argonautica, Euripides' Medea, various other mythological sources Bio: Medea was a sorceress from Colchis, where the golden fleece was housed. When Jason arrived in pursuit of the fleece, Hera wanted to help him, so she got Aphrodite to make Medea fall in love with him because she knew Medea had skills that would be useful. Medea did help, in exchange for Jason's hand in marriage: she used her magic and knowledge to protect him through the tasks the king had him complete to get the golden fleece, and then when it turned out the king didn't plan to give Jason the fleece, Medea put the dragon guarding the fleece to sleep while Jason stole it. She then joined Jason and the Argonauts in flight. When the Argo was caught by Medea's half-brother, Apsyrtus, Medea tricked him into a trap so Jason could kill him. When they returned from their voyage, Jason was meant to trade the golden fleece for the king Pelias's throne, but he wouldn't give up the throne; Medea then tricked his daughters into killing him by telling them that if they cut him into pieces, she could bring him back to life. From there, she and Jason fled to Corinth, where they lived for some time before Jason decided he wanted to marry another woman, Glauce, the daughter of the king (Creon). Creon exiled her, and so Medea went to Athens and got Aegeus, the king there, to let her stay. She then called Jason to her, apologized for her reaction to his desire to marry someone else, and asked if her children could give Glauce gifts as an apology. The gifts, a robe and crown, were poisoned, and killed not only Glauce but also Creon when he tried to save her. She then killed both her children in an attempt to hurt Jason.

[blues824]

Imagine Floyd leetch with a female inosuke from demon slayer

Him finally having a person who is more wild than him and who can't say one name correct except their own

I can imagine a scenario where her squishes her to thigt a brakes a rib and her refusing to go to the nurse because they are not weak because if they are weak why can she do this cackling like a maniac

How would he react to seeing her face for the first time

Another one of the demon slayer themed requests! Love this one!

When he first met you, he noticed how you managed to butcher everyone’s names, and that’s similar to what he does when he gives sea-themed nicknames (he calls you Blue Pointer since you remind him of a Great White Shark). He found it interesting how you picked a fight with nearly everyone.

He also likes how you are very chaotic all the time. He found his long-lost triplet! He will constantly try to cling to you, but you always take it as an invitation to fight. Everyone is annoyed by you, but it doesn’t bother you.

He doesn’t like how you are very short-tempered. You also like to be very loud and go all-in without giving a second thought towards anything. That is one of the few places where you both are very different. He tends to be a bit sneakier.

He does appreciate that you don’t know a lot about typical human interaction, since you both were not raised by humans. You both learn how to socialize normally, and it’s a journey you both travel together.

After hanging out with Floyd for a while, you get used to his squeezing and even have squeezing competitions to see who can make the other stop breathing and tap out first. Everyone was grateful that you were both focusing each other’s attention on the other rather than anyone and everyone else.

One time, he squeezed you so tight that he broke one of your ribs but you didn’t tap out until he noticed the snap. He quickly let you go and hoisted you into his arms, bridal-style. You were trying to wrestle out of his arms and yell that you didn’t need to go to the nurse and that you weren’t weak, but it didn’t work.

From then on, everytime he sees you he apologizes while squeezing you a lot less hard. He will let you win at the squeezing competitions because he doesn’t want to break another one of your ribs. You yell at him that you can take it and to not think you are weak, but he doesn’t listen to you.

As for your abilities, I would say he finds your enhanced flexibility the most intriguing. He himself is very flexible since he’s an eel, but you are a human and he didn’t know humans could do that. He saw you when you were warming up for P.E. and you bent backwards until your head was between your feet. He ran up to you and started shooting questions at you until you got mad and chased him.

[plentyoffandoms]

Cody anon here, I’m excited to hear you’ll write for him!! Could you write something kinda angsty or enemies to lovers-esque? Like the reader being concerned about his peck injury before his match with Seth at Hell in a Cell and it resulting in an argument between the two, or the reader & Cody becoming a mixed tag team and neither one liking each other very much at first?

I’ll read literally anything you write, so if you decide to do something different and don’t like these suggestions it’s no problem! :)

Cody Rhodes x f/Reader

Main Masterlist ♡ Miscellaneous Wrestlers Masterlist

Warnings: Some swearing

Just like all my other stories, this has not been proofread, but please enjoy.

I hope you like it.

WC: 1374

Gifs & Photos do not belong to me. 1st gif @goodtimesgreatmemories 2nd gif @womenwwe 3rd @juliahart

Summary: Cody & f/Reader fight over his upcoming match with Seth. Cody wants to wrestle with his injury & f/Reader tries to stop him.

YN'S POV:

"Gahh! Why do you have to be so damn difficult?" I asked the man in front of me, crossing my arms over my chest, trying not to slap him in the face.

"I know my body YN and I know I will be just fine to wrestle," which just made me roll my eyes at the stubborn man.

"You are just going to make it worse. You even got told not to wrestle this weekend by medical professionals, but oh yes tell me you know your body."

I held up my hands in mock defeat as he just sighed at me. "Will you just let it go, for fucks sake YN, I am a grown-ass man who has wrestled through worse."

"And every single time you had to take a long ass time off to recover."

I would know this as I am head of the Physiotherapy for all the wrestlers here at WWE.

"I am doing this and that is final."

I wanted to stomp my foot like a child and throw a tantrum just because I didn't get my way, but I just turned around and left the man standing there with a smug smile on his face.

He doesn't get that he now has a massive target on his chest, literally. He can seriously fuck up his chest and every other muscle and tendon attached to it.

Cody can ruin his whole career just because he didn't take this one time to recover and he knows this, or he should know this.

But he refuses to listen to reason and I will have to watch from the back as Colby attacks him over and over again.

"What has got you muttering?" Bianca asked me with an amused smile on her face. I went to answer her but she just held up her hand and then placed said hand under her chin and a thinking stance.

"I got it, does it have to do with Cody 'the man who you say you hate but secretly love' being a stubborn asshole about tonight's match?"

"Okay, first off, I do hate the man, and secondly, yes."

"He is a Runnels YN, you know how hard-headed they can be."

"I know, I just don't want him to mess this up. He left AEW and came here and I don't want one injury that he has control over, to mess up not only this one shot for the title but could also end his whole career."

Bianca placed her hand on my shoulder in a friendly manner and gave it a quick squeeze, knowing how frustrated I am with him.

"Come on now Bianca. It is time for your appointment anyway. Gotta make sure you're in tip-top shape tonight."

CODY RHODES POV:

The moment she turned and left the room, I wanted to go after her and try and talk some sense into her but I know that isn't gonna happen.

When my medical reports came back and landed on her desk, she sought me out and asked me why I was even thinking about wrestling tonight. Why I couldn't give myself more time to recover, I tried to explain to her why, but she wouldn't listen.

YN knows how important this match is to me and knows that I have to prove to everyone here and the fans out there that I belong here in WWE.

I left AEW because of personal reasons that I have yet to disclose to anyone but I have to make this work here at WWE. I have to win this match against Colby or else people may just believe that I am some just washed-up hack.

I looked in the mirror and noticed that the bruise seemed to be getting worse, and no amount of makeup to help cover it, trust me, we tried.

"You know she is right you know?"

I looked and saw that Kevin was standing there, smiling at me. I just glared at him.

"You of all people should know that we wrestle through all kinds of shit. Why care so much about this one injury?"

"And you usually never give a damn when one of the medical staff gives a shit about you. Why her?"

I opened my mouth to give some lame ass excuse, but nothing came out. "It is time to move on from Brandi and you need to stop fighting with your feelings about this. That is why YN and you fight constantly. You two are more alike than you like to think."

~

YN didn't even look at me as I passed her to walk out. She would usually wish me luck, but this time she just stared down at her phone and refused to acknowledge me.

Colby and I wrestled with everything we had and in the end, I won. I held up my arms in victory, and I hope I didn't show how much I am in.

I walked backstage and YN was waiting for me, with a concerned but angry look on her face. She indicated to follow her and I did after a few moments of my friends and colleagues congratulating me.

Once we got to her office, she slammed the door shut and I could just feel the anger radiating off of her body.

She looked me over and tutted every single time I made a noise in pain. "Are you going to not speak to me this entire time?"

"Why waste my breath, Cody?"

"Ha, got you to finally say something," I smirked but that quickly left my face as she glared at me. She worked in silence for a bit longer and then told me that I could go.

"Any tips?"

"Just relax for a couple of days. Ice it and no working out. Don't be shocked if the bruise gets bigger and works its way down your arm and side."

I muttered a soft thank you and left her alone, contemplating how I can win back her friendship.

YN'S POV:

"Delivery for YN LN."

I closed my eyes and counted to five and said that was me. I was handed another bouquet. I thanked the Delivery Person and looked around for another vase or even a mug to place these flowers in.

Three days of flowers Delivery and Cody hasn't given up. I know he wants me to talk to him and I will, but damn, let me finish being angry at my own pace.

Three hours later, a giant Teddy bear was delivered and now enough is enough. I sent a text to him demanding he comes to my office.

His head was barely through the door and I was telling him to sit down. "I see you got my gifts."

"Yes and I forgive you, now will you stop the deliveries, please? I like flowers but not this much."

"Only if you go out to dinner with me."

"Fine." Knowing deep down it was a dinner between two friends.

"I don't think you are understanding what I am asking. I want to take you out on a date. No talk of work or wrestling. Just us, on a date."

"I am not just some backup because you are lonely Runnels."

"For the love of God YN, it isn't like that. I like you, fuck. I have moved on from Brandi and my thoughts are filled with you and you alone."

"You better mean it, Cody. I am no one's second choice," he reached across the desk and took my hand in his. He ran his thumb over my knuckles.

"I mean it. I have just been too damn stubborn to realise why we fight so much is because, well I like you. Kevin had to practically give me a swift kick in the ass to make me realise."

"One date Cody."

~

One date turned into three, which turned into two years of dating. Then one full of year of us being engaged and tomorrow is the day we get married.

We still bicker but it usually ends with one of us apologising with a kiss, and our favourite food.

Who knew one fight over an injury would make us finally come go terms with our feelings?

Well Kevin did.

Tag List: if you would like to be added, please let me know. @lghockey @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @anaeve @crowleysqueenofhell @thenerdybaker523 @nicoleveno14 @malakaiblacksgirl1989 @1rsolideranna @legit9thlunaticwarrior @melissahausen @wwenhlimagines @blaquekittycat

[snailsaxophone]

Team Star and Their Love Languages

Giacomo

I think his love language would be words of affirmations

He’s self conscious, especially after what he did as student council president. Everyone outside of team star were really mad at him

So basically, he’s nervous about what everyone else thinks of him especially as a team star admin.

Just a simple “You’re doing a great job!” or something is enough to perk him up on the worst of days

It really helps to reassure him that nobody hates him lmao

Ortega

Gifts lol

Before coming to team star, he was used to being pampered with gifts and whatnot

But after joining, he never really got any gifts besides his birthday and christmas. It really hurt him, was he not worthy of gifts anymore?

It doesn’t have to be anything expensive by any means. Something as simple as picking him up a candy bar while you’re shopping will make him so happy

It’s really the thought that counts with him. For all the artists out there, if you make him anything he will absolutely treasure it.

It’s just a gentle reassurance that someone still loves him. It’s a little taste of home, if you will

Atticus

Quality time 100%

He often likes to go out with you, even if it’s just to class or to go shopping

PLEASE sit by him while he’s sewing. He really enjoys your presence

On that note, be prepared to be a mannequin. He’s gonna make a ton of clothes for you, and he’s gonna make sure the fit just right

I think because of the way he dresses and acts he never really had anyone close to him. His team star friends are the closest people to him, but since they’re stationed at their respective bases he doesn’t see them often

Because of all that, he gets quite lonely. He will treat you only with the upmost respect while he’s with you too. You need a drink? He’s already on it. It’s a bit too cold? He’s turning on the heat and grabbing blankets

I love him so much

Eri

tbh kinda struggled with this one, but i think she goes well with acts of service

Eri appreciates the little things in life, so she notices the little things more often then not

If you give her flowers she’ll cry. Please give her flowers she deserves them sm

Show up to her wrestling tournaments and she’ll win just for you. You showing up is all the motivation she needs

And of course, just doing daily chores lifts a big burden off her back. She’s used to being the responsible, caring one, but it’s nice to sit back once in a while

Even just looking after the other team star members makes her love you

Mela

Physical touch

She’s another touch starved pokemon character.

I think she’s used to shutting herself out, being cold and tough. But really, she needs a big hug

Just holding her hand makes her blush, she really enjoys it

Cuddling? Absolutely. Soft Mela is very healthy for the soul

I absolutely love Mela if you couldn’t tell

A/N : This wasn’t written to specifically be romantic, it’s cool if you view it that way but i know everyone has different age headcanons and whatnot so i didn’t want anyone to be uncomfy with that. So please read this however you like!