#rip I won’t be here as much as I enjoy this game but

[hoshifighting]

helloww i wanted to request seventeens reaction to afab!reader having a hard time cumming! like it just takes them a really long time to get there

seungcheol is not here for quickies; he’s in it for the long haul. it’s like he enjoys the challenge of finding that perfect spot that makes you moan just a little louder. “don’t worry, baby,” he murmurs. “we’ve got all the time in the world.” the way he maps out your body with his touch, learning every sensitive inch, almost makes you feel a bit vulnerable. and before you know it, you’re gasping as the orgasm overtakes you, surprised at how quickly he figured you out.

jeonghan spends ages making you sensitive, playing with your nipples, kissing you deeply, brushing his hands like feathers over your pussy. he whispers filthy things in your ear, his breath hot against your skin. by the time he starts really stimulating you, you’re already on the edge, and when you finally cum, it’s like he’s ripped the orgasm right out of you.

joshua is going to prove you wrong. he’s determined to make you cum with his mouth, no matter how long it takes. “it’s not a race,” he chuckles, his voice muffled between your thighs. “just relax.” he’s meticulous, taking his time, exploring every inch of you with his tongue until you’re writhing and moaning, finally giving in. he’s in it for the long game, and he won’t stop until you’re a trembling mess.

junhui has this thing about watching you touch yourself. he’ll sit back and watch, his eyes dark as you try to get yourself off. “show me how you like it,” he asks. and when you finally cum, he’s there, ready to take over and show you just how much better he can make it. it’s almost like a competition, but one where everyone wins.

soonyoung tries different things until something clicks. he’ll switch positions, he turns you this way and that, change angles, and then, almost like an epiphany, he’ll grab a pillow and put it under your hips. “let’s try this,” he says, a determined look in his eyes. and then, it’s like a lightbulb goes off. there it is—the perfect angle that has you cumming, maybe even squirting a little, and he’s just as surprised as you are, but in the best way.

wonwoo is a veteran of teasing. he’ll get you close and then stop, leaving you aching. he works your clit, then stops again just when you’re about to tip over the edge. it’s frustrating, but you know he’s doing it on purpose. “not yet,” he’ll whisper. he’s patient, waiting until you’re practically begging, and only then will he finally let you have what you need. the build-up makes the release all the more intense, and he knows it.

woozi loves his gadgets. he’s got a collection of vibrators and toys just for you, and he’s not shy about using them. he likes using a g'spot vibrator while his fingers play with your nipples or, he’ll hold a vibrator against your clit while he fucks you, his cock deep inside you, and it’s like sensory overload. “you like that?” he knows exactly how to push you over the edge, and he’s not stopping until you’re cumming.

minghao would probably suggest something like tantric sex, making you focus on the pleasure without even touching you. “just breathe,” he’ll say. the first time you cum from just the build-up, you’re left staring at him in disbelief, and he just smirks, clearly pleased with himself. sex is mind too.

mingyu reassures you. “it’s okay if it takes a while,” he says, his voice soft as he kisses his way down your body. “i love being down here.” he’s in no rush, taking his time, savoring every moment. he’ll drink in every drop, making you feel like the most important person in the world, no matter how long it takes.

seokmin loves to play with your kinks. if you like choking, he’ll do it just right, feeling your pussy tighten around him. if you like being spanked, he’ll watch you get wetter with each smack. “you like that?” he’ll ask smirking. even if he’s not usually a dirty talker, he’ll do it for you, pushing you over the edge with his words.

seungkwan is all about his hands. he knows you have a thing for them, and he’s more than happy to use them to your advantage. “you’re so wet,” he’ll murmur, his fingers deep inside you, curling just right. he’ll coo at you, sulking/mocking until you’re lightheaded and cumming hard around his fingers.

vernon is patient, just like you. he knows it takes time for both of you, and he’s more than willing to take it slow. “we’re in no rush,” he’s prefers mutual pleasure, whether it’s a slow 69, mutual masturbation or the wildest positions you can think of. it’s a perfect match. both of you working each other until you both cum.

chan is determined to make you cum, almost like it’s a personal challenge. “i can do it,” he’ll mutter. he’ll try everything, experimenting with different techniques until he finds the one that makes you break. and when you finally do, he’s smug but also relieved, holding back a proud grin as you come down from your high.

[starlostseungmin]

husband!hyunjin

✰ notes: here concludes my husband!skz series with hyunjin. i hope you enjoyed this as much as i enjoyed writing everyone! not proofread and not edited. DO NOT FORGET TO REBLOG, COMMENT AND LEAVE TAGS! thank you <33

seungmin , chan , lee know , jeongin , han , changbin , felix（ hyunjin ）

ꔛ

Husband Hyunjin whom everyone expected to make a grand proposal, prepared a simple candlelight dinner in your shared apartment and cooked your favorite meals. You thought it was just a usual dinner date at home which you’d do sometimes. He suddenly got down on one knee and opened a small box with a diamond ring, “Will you be my everlasting muse? The one who would love to spend the rest of their life with me?” 

Husband Hyunjin who cried and hugged you tightly as he thanked you for saying yes. 

Husband Hyunjin who was the happiest and got emotional during the weddingーmentally screaming, hair-ripping, toe-curling, exaggerated excitement (sincere), and deeply in thought about how he would spend an eternity with you. 

Husband Hyunjin who loves to stare at you while talking, especially on your lips thinking how much he wants to kiss you. His kisses start with innocent, soft, and warm then later change into intimate, hot, and intoxicating which makes you get addicted to them. 

Husband Hyunjin who loves to be babied and cuddled when he’s tired or just wants to be a small spoon whenever he feels like it. He’d refuse to go to work just to stay in bed all day with you. 

Husband Hyunjin whose dates consist of visiting art museums, picnics, watching musicals or movies, evening strolls, and road trips. Sometimes it gets over the moon when he decides to take you to (country) because you’ve been dying to visit the place. He giggled nonstop when he surprised you that he bought the tickets. 

Husband Hyunjin who would always bring his sketchbook and camera on dates just to take a picture of you or make his hand busy sketching a portrait of you just because he finds you beautiful every time. He will show them to you when he’s done. The pictures or sketches will be hung on your shared apartment's wall for safekeeping and memories. 

Husband Hyunjin who drives you crazy when he’s just doing normal things like simply unbuttoning his polo, rolling up his sleeves, taking off his jacket showing his bodybuild especially when he wears a tanktop inside, brushing his bangs upward, dancing? It would add fuel to the fire when he kisses you like a man starved from your touch. 

Husband Hyunjin who brings you food and medicine when you get sick. He will probably take his day off from work depending on how fast your recovery is that it would take days for him to sit there and take care of you. The type to make sure that you won’t die since he would end up grieving so hard. “It’s just a mild flu, Hyunjin.” “Are you sure?” 

Husband Hyunjin who is loud and dramatic whenever he realizes he got betrayed, lost a game, or is just being dumb (lovingly). He and Jisung are a perfect match and you’re the one who actually gets in between. 

Husband Hyunjin who gets shy whenever you compliment him but sometimes he would feel a blast of confidence that he gives you a wink as a response and becomes flirty.

Husband Hyunjin who loves to make a fool of himself, vocabulary just consists of memes (you can blame Han and Felix for that) cringes at his own cuteness and regrets it later just to make you laugh. 

Husband Hyunjin who lets you play with his long hair. He loves it when you do pigtails. You often tease him that he looks like Boo from Monsters Inc. 

Husband Hyunjin whom Kkami wants to disown. 

Husband Hyunjin who tries his hardest to comfort you as best as he can whenever he sees you being vulnerable in trying times. Promised not to leave you alone until you feel better, crack a dad joke he got from Chan to lift the atmosphere (which is effective by the way) and take you to his arms, whispering how he is proud of you. 

Husband Hyunjin who made a playlist filled with songs that make him think about you, scream your vibe, and the ones that would portray his exact feelings. Sometimes he would write down lyrics about how lovesick and hopeless romantic he is. All songs and melodies are heavily inspired by you. 

Husband Hyunjin who loves to send you selfies, videos of him taken by the members that serve husband material, and voice messages whenever he’s abroad because he misses you so much that he cries himself to sleep and can’t wait to go home. It’s also necessary to send you short vlogs and pictures of sceneries of the places he went without you because of work and leave messages like, “This reminds me of you.” “It’s beautiful, isn’t it? Let’s visit this place together soon!” “I’m sure you’d like these souvenirs I got you!” “The food out here is great! Treat me here soon!” 

Husband Hyunjin whose love languages are words of affirmation, physical touch, gift-giving, quality time, and acts of service. 

Husband Hyunjin who loves to spoil you even if you tell him not to spend a lot of money on you but he won’t listen and insists on accepting them. 

Husband Hyunjin who doesn’t admit his mistakes during the first few minutes of the argument but later apologizes over and over again and promises never to do it again. He’s also the type that is hard to make up with but he can’t keep it up for hours and just cuddles you whispering “I’m sorry, I’ll do better.” 

Husband Hyunjin who gets jealous easily and is possessive whenever he sees you having a good time with his members. “I’m yours, Hyunjin. Don’t worry.” You’d say but you know that is not enough for him so he’d show you to whom you belong (affectionately, or depending on how you both want it).

Husband Hyunjin who refused to get a divorce when you felt that your marriage was falling apart because he couldn’t imagine his life without you. He won’t let go of you easily and you didn’t even make any attempts to leave him. 

Husband Hyunjin who is careful whenever in talks of having kids because your decision matters in this relationship but he would reassure you that if you ever wanted to have one, he will be the best dad your kid could ask for. 

Husband Hyunjin who is the most precious, kind, and pure to your heart that you wouldn’t even want to live a life without him. He is the moon and stars to your night, the sunshine after the rain, the rose amongst the thorns, and the pretty shells you find on a beach where no one knows. 

Husband Hyunjin who holds your hand and intertwines your fingers as he kisses your knuckles saying, “I love you.” 

Husband Hyunjin whose wedding vows are not enough to show how much he would love to spend his entire life with you. “I fucking love you so fucking much and we’re married, you can’t leave. You’re stuck with me whether you like it or not!” 

✰ taglist: @notastraykid , @ameliesaysshoo , @l3visbby , @reignessance , @lix-ables , @skzfelixlove , @rachabreathing , @hyunverse , @minluvly , @sleepyleeji , @starseungs , @midsoulz , @oddracha , @armystay89 , @lashaemorow

©️ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐌𝐈𝐍 , 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒.

[pitchsidestories]

treat you better (2) II Ingrid Engen x Mapi León x Reader

part 1 I masterlist I word count: 1438

a/n: Hi, we hope you'll love part two as much as part 1 and thanks to @briggtea for sending us the idea for the oneshot.

You stumbled upon that podcast snippet accidentally while scrolling bored through Instagram while your girlfriends were getting ready for bed in the bathroom of the hotel room you were staying in. Nights before big Champions League games always made you feel a bit restless.  It was a queer podcast about sports you enjoyed, that’s why you clicked on it, but you couldn’t stop watching it when you noticed the guest was your ex-girlfriend.

In the scene the host asked her grinning:” How would you rate y/n on a scale from 1 to 10?”

“Maybe a two if I’m being nice.”, your former lover replied with a smug smile on her lips, you wished you could take away from the fellow footballer.

“Oh wow, seems like you got an unpopular opinion here, the internet goes crazy for her.”, the interviewer whistled impressed by the reply of your ex-girlfriend.

“The internet’s falling for her looks. She’s not that great to be with.”, she shrugged.

“So, the rumours are true, you two were together?”, the host curiously lifted an eyebrow at her.

“Maybe. All I can say is that she wasn’t very committed.”, the football player answered laughing which was obviously a blatant lie. After all she was the one who cheated around in London not the other way around.

“That’s bullshit!”, Mapi yelled furiously before ripping the phone out of her hands to throw it on to the bed.

“Babe.”, Ingrid tried soothing your Spanish girlfriend with her calm voice.

“She’s basically gaslighting her!”, the defender protested enraged, shaking off the hand the Norwegian had laid on her shoulder.

“Maria, relax. I know she does, and we’ll prove her wrong on the pitch tomorrow.”, you told her calmly.

 “On the pitch? She’s going around spreading rumours about you when she was the one who cheated on you!”, Mapi snorted angrily.

“No, you don’t understand, amor. She’ll hate losing against us.”, you pointed out.

“I believe you that, but I’d like to hurt her in in more ways than just that.”, she hissed, sounding almost like Bagheera when he was ready to fight whatever caught the cat’s eyes.

“I appreciate it, but trust me, she’s not worth it. Come on we should go to bed.”, you assured her in a soft tone.

“Fine.”, the Spanish player sighed, exhaustion was catching up with her. Quickly she and Ingrid laid down, you were in their middle.

“Sleep well, my loves.”, Ingrid gave each of you a good night kiss.

“Good night, girls.”, you whispered, once again feeling very lucky to have them in your life.

“Night.”, Mapi mumbled, already half-asleep. Sleep took the three of you in quick succession.

You tried to focus on yourself as best as you could while you got ready for the game. Ignore the noise, forget about your ex. There was just you and the game in front of you.

Even the chatter of your teammates faded into the background until something touched your elbow.

“Y/n?“

You looked up to Alexia studying your face.

“Yes, Capi?“

“Do you feel ready?“, she asked.

You watched a small line between her eyebrows as she frowned.

Nodding once, you replied: “Ready and focused.“

“Good.“

“Don’t worry.“, you assured her and forced yourself to a smile.

Alexia shook her head, considering you: “I just don’t want you to do anything stupid out there.“

“I won’t. You know I’m not the type such behaviour.“

“I’m just saying…“

You sighed, locking eyes with her: “Promise.“

This seemed to relax your captain. She nodded slowly and then clapped her hands: “Alright, let’s win this then.“

“Please.“, you agreed. You refused to imagine your ex cheering with her teammates.

Ingrid squeezed your hand as she passed you: “Come on.“

“Coming.“, you smiled back at her.

Mapi appeared on your side right as you were about to walk out on the pitch. She nodded into the direction of a very familiar ponytail: “There she is.“

Apparently, she had felt your gaze on her because in that exact moment, she turned around and flashed you a bright smile.

You swallowed hard as she walked towards you, all innocence: “Hi.“

“Hi, good luck.“, you answered plainly.

“You’ll need it more.“, she smirked.

It took you a lot not to roll your eyes about her arrogance. Instead you shrugged: “I think you’re wrong about this.“

You jogged onto the field to warm up, leaving her behind to watch.

The first half of the game remained calm as you had expected. Both teams testing the waters, not risking too much that early in the game. Barcelona had more chances but had not used them yet. You know you had to be more clinical in the next fourty-five minutes.

In the second half, the whole game changed. It got rougher, more aggressive and you had your problems with that.

It was more than frustration, it was pure anger. Your exes smug grin, the unnecessary fouls by the other team, the unsuccessful attacks. You just wanted to scream.

You took a deep breath and gathered yourself, there was no use. You had to stay focused.

It worked until the seventieth minute. Chelsea was on attack but Mapi won the ball easily. She hesitated for a half a second before passing it to Lucy.

Your ex saw this moment of hesitation as an opportunity. She wanted to win the ball back with a slide tackle but her timing was off. She crashed into Mapi, her studs colliding with your girlfriends ankle.

Mapi was on the grass, screaming in pain while your ex got up, unfazed by the incident. There was not even an apology.

Ingrid was already kneeling beside your girlfriend when you ran over to them.

“Shit.“, the Spanish defender cursed under her breath.

“Mapi, are you okay?!”, you asked her deeply worried.

“Yeah.”, she answered through gritted teeth.

“I swear she did it intentionally. I’m going to.”, you begun.

But a firm, big hand prevented you from walking up to your former girlfriend.

“No, you’re not doing anything.”, Alexia interrupted you, her voice dripping with determination.

“Stay calm and carry on, y/n.”, Marta added.

“But.”, you started.

“Score the winning goal for us.”, Aitana suggested with a wink, hoping it would stop you from doing something stupid.

“It doesn’t work like that, Aitana.”, you reminded her.

“Maybe it does.”, she replied encouragingly. While your gaze followed a hurt Mapi who got subbed off. A spark of extra motivation hit you when you saw that. Maybe the Catalan midfielder was right about that.

It was the last minute of the game when your chance arrived to turn the draw into a win, Caroline played a cross to you which you only had to head in with your head. It was a goal, Barcelona has won once more against the English team.

Aitana jumped into your opened arms.” See? I told you so.”, she cheered.

“There’s no fucking way.”, you could hear your ex-girlfriend scolding, shooting mad glances at you from afar, but you couldn’t care less.

As the referee blew the final whistle you sprinted to the bench where Ingrid and Mapi were the first to pull you into a group hug.

“We won girls!”, you laughed happily.

“You were amazing.”, the Spanish defender whispered proudly into your ear.

“And your goal was amazing.”, the tall dark-haired woman beamed at you.

“Thank you. Have you seen her face after I scored?”, you wanted to know from them with a hint of malicious joy.

“She deserved that.”, Mapi noted.

“How are you feeling? Her foul looked bad.”, you suddenly remembered, looking concerned at your girlfriend.

“I’m okay. She went right for the ankle, but it’s not too bad.” she calmed you.

“At least that.”, you let out a sigh of relief.

“Don’t worry about me.”, the heavily tattooed woman said.

“Come on, girls, time to celebrate that win properly.”, Ingrid intervened smiling.

“Yes, y/n deserves it.”, Mapi agreed smirking.

“And we make sure she gets her reward for her great game and her bravery.”, the Norwegian continued delighted.

“Oh, we’ll.”, your other girlfriend shared a knowing glance with her.

“Girls.”, you blushed listening to their words.

“We’re just proud of you.”, Ingrid declared.

“And we’ll show you how proud later tonight.”, the defender winked.

“We can’t just leave now.”, you protested, pointing to the rest of their teammates who were still celebrating.

“No one will notice trust us.”, the Scandinavian argued.

“Alright, let’s go.”, you give in, knowing fully well that your girlfriends would always treat you better than your former lover. And the night had just begun, it was set to be unforgettable.

[hansensgirl]

summary. | Your stepfather wants to try something new with you.

prompts. | Steve Rogers + stepfather + “Don’t you think you’re a little too old to be playing this game?” + face-sitting, requested by Anonymous.

pairing. | dark!stepfather!Steve Rogers x fem!reader.

warnings. | NON/DUBCON, stepcest, age gap, fear, captivity, oral (f), face-sitting, pet names, dirty talk, kind of mean!steve?, Daddy kink, allusions to somnophilia, and more. 18+ MINORS DNI!

author’s note. | this is a part of my Dark Concepts (2023) request form. thank you for taking part in this event! please enjoy and don’t forget to reblog. MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY! taglist: @hansensfics

Steve lays back against your bed, the one he forces himself into night after night.

“Daddy wants to try something new today, sweetie,” he tells you, patting his lap. You know what that means—he’s trained you very well. He never has to repeat himself, and you’re always a good girl for him. Well, you try most of the time. “Come here.”

You’re in your bra and underwear, nothing special, yet he prefers you with no clothes entirely. He swears you’re the most beautiful girl in the world, but he continues to taint you.

You straddle your step-father, and he uses his immense strength to pull you upwards, positioning your legs on each side of his head. 

“Oh– What are you gonna do, D– Daddy?” you question, though you have a slight inkling. “Daddy’s gonna make you sit on his face, baby. And I’m gonna make you feel so good,” Steve tells you. His voice is deep, and it makes your pussy throb.

“But, won’t you get hurt?” you ask. You know he’s more than careful when it comes to these things, but you just want to be sure. You’re also trying to stall him and perhaps convince him to leave you alone for the day. “I won’t, honey. Don’t worry.”

You nod your head as you look down at him, meeting his gaze. His blue eyes are blown out entirely, dark with arousal. You hate this—you hate him. He’s got you stuck in this suburban house as he uses you—his stepdaughter—for his dirty pleasure.

“Really? What about your neck?” you continue, fiddling your fingers. “I know what I’m doing, princess,” Steve reassures, giving you a smile. You can never tell when it’s genuine. He’s a great liar, in contrary to you.

“I know, Daddy… I’m just a bit scared, s’all,” you feign sheepishness as you admit. It’s true—you’re absolutely terrified of your stepfather. He’s hurt you in ways that make your skin crawl, but you find that your body betrays you when your panties are soaked. 

Steve grips the cloth that hides your core, and he tugs at it until it rips, giving him full access to your pussy. 

The older man sighs heavily, jaw clenching as he closes his eyes. You’re worried he’ll lash out and really hurt you.

“Don’t you think you’re a little too old to be playing this game?” he suddenly asks, tone harsh. You gulp thickly. “Wh– What game, Daddy?” you question, hands shaking from fright. “Stop pretending you don’t want this. I know how much of a dirty slut you are,” Steve spits, and before you can reply, he pulls you down onto his mouth.

All thoughts leave your mind when he licks a fat stripe on your pussy, lapping up all the creaminess you have to offer. You moan loudly, and he chuckles, the vibrations adding to the sensation of his skilled mouth on your core.

Your stepfather sucks on your clit, tongue flicking and swirling around the nub. He passes the wet muscle through your folds, teasing you by pretending he’ll insert it into your empty, aching hole.

You moan the title he’s demanded you always call him by, and Steve bucks his hips upwards, desperate for some friction himself. He shakes his head a bit, and you cry out, the pleasure blooming in your core increasing with every lewd movement he makes.

“Fuck, Daddy…” you whine, grinding your hips on his face just a bit. He hums against your wet cunt, and you feel yourself nearing your first climax of what surely will be many. 

Steve taps your thigh twice as a sign that he gives you permission to come. “Th- Thank you, Daddy,” you pant, and your muscles twitch as you come on your stepfather’s mouth. He licks up all that you have to offer and then some, forcing you to ride out your high.

Your heart clamours inside your chest as Steve continues to eat you out.

Maybe he is right. You, indeed, are too old to play that game.

[shiftingdiariesofophelia]

i spend so much energy trying to make/find fun creative things to add to my scripts and i’m not gonna gatekeep, so here’s some of the funniest/weirdest/lowkey best things i’ve added to any of my scripts (that I haven’t talked much about before):

-I can always find things I need.

-Santa is real

-People just??? trust me??? I could genuinely tell someone that world war two was between the australians and canadians and they’d just be like yeah that checks out

-I don’t have allergies bc i hate sneezing

-Every pair of shoes I own are comfy as hell

-My hair can’t get knotted/tangled

-no periods because f that for real

-I always win/I’m naturally good at card and board games.

-Babies/Animals like me and will stop crying/whining/etc. when i’m around.

-cigarettes taste good and aren’t bad for you. i wanna be lana del rey coded so bad i guess

-i will literally never be in a situation where i have to kill someone. (useful for more dangerous drs!!!)

-random beef with the funniest character imaginable. hp dr? me and susan bones are arch enemies. fame dr? me and pete davidson indirect tweet each other all the time complaining. avengers dr? me and the ancient one are fist fighting in the mirror dimension idc

-indestructible things. i am clumsy and stupid i need this in every dr.

-pages don’t rip out of notebooks on accident (this has been the bane of my existence since 9 years old)

-I always have a hair tie when i need one. because you think you won’t need one, and then the second you don’t have it, you need it.

-people don’t smell. lifesaver.

-*random character* knows i shifted but can’t do a goddamn thing about it/doesn’t care and just goes with it. my favorite examples are Shane Dawson (fame dr) and Professor Trelawny (HP dr)

-i can’t get hurt in stupid ways (stubbing toe, tripping, etc.)

-if someone tries to shoot me the gun will literally fly out of their hand lmao (again, useful for dangerous drs)

-i know everyone’s phone passwords

-infinite toilet paper (for dystopia/woods/etc. drs, but could just be useful every day tbh.)

-i’ve always got some kind of out of pocket one liner for when the situation is too awkward

-tattoos don’t hurt (i am a pussy)

-adding random side characters/completely new mfers to my scripts because if i’m constantly around these fine ass bitches i know everything about i might actually have a heart attack

-when someone’s mean to me they get some form of karma in the next 24 hours directly related to how mean they were. call me stupid? enjoy tripping up the stairs. push me over? i hope you enjoy biting into a sandwich only to find the bread is moldy.

there’s probably more but this is just a short list of the first ones i could think of

[desertduality]

HELLO soo I was inspired by @stiffyck and the most recent secret life episode to write some tcd angst set in secret life <33 Enjoy :D

Link to Ao3 if you prefer to read there

———----

Scar, despite all odds against him, does hold his own for a little while. Gem is after him, bloodthirsty and intent, for reasons that Scar doesn’t know. She traps his base, she shoots at him, stabs at him — and he survives it all, up until he doesn’t. There are four of them by then, and they hunt him down and pick him off. And he dies. 

These games are fun, is the thing. They get together and they make silly little groups with playful rivalry’s and eventually someone wins. It’s fun. Scar has fun, usually. 

None of them know about the world he came from. That lonely, ravaged, barren world. The zombies had been everywhere, fast and stubborn. Scar had been young and hurt and alone, and had learned to run on broken legs before he learned how to read. 

It’s been a long time ago, now. The memories sneak up on him far less often than they used to, and he’s better. This though, this thing with Gem and the others, it’s hitting him in places that still hurt; places that will always hurt. 

Scar is fresh off his first death, still reeling from being hunted down, and Cleo and Grian are telling him he can’t stay. 

“You’re not one of us,” Grian says, and they’re just playing a game, but Scar is confused. He’d been invited, hadn’t he? But then Cleo had taken it back. 

“Scar!” Bdubs is a distance behind him, sitting atop a horse and calling his name urgently. “Scar, we need to talk to you.”

Scar goes, and hears whispering behind him, something about zombies and spreading. It makes a bit of nerves flare up in his stomach, but he ignores them. He is far enough removed from the past that hearing the word won’t send him into hysterics. He’s even recovered enough that he can handle the sight of a few zombies, even if his heart rate elevates until they’re gone. He’s better, he is. 

Bdubs takes him back to the others, and they explain to him what’s been going on. It’s Gem’s task to spread the Boogeyman curse, one by one, to everyone. He suddenly feels a little bad for trying to burn the book earlier, because this sounds like a good time. Causing some chaos, killing some people, making each other laugh — it's what they’re all here for. It’s why they play the game.

(There’s a small but persistent inkling of unease living behind his rib cage at the fact that they’re comparing themselves to zombies, to an apocalypse, but he ignores it. It’s not important enough to mention it, and he doesn’t want to ruin everyone’s fun.)

They get Etho, and Gem praises him for it, and Scar tries not to compare the fortress the others are defending to the bunkers he used to raid. His brain still makes the connection, as much as he wishes it didn’t. The memories trickle in slowly, making him more and more on edge as the day goes on. It will be over soon, Scar tells himself. Then he can rest, and go back to being better.

Joel has a zombie spawner to farm XP. Scar has used it, has been inside it. He’d been expecting zombies, then. He doesn’t expect it when Joel throws down sixty-four zombie eggs in a row. 

The thin and fraying thread tying him together snaps.

Everyone is screaming and yelling, running, chasing after Joel. There are zombies as far as he can see, in groups and alone, groaning and gurgling into the night. It fills his ears, wraps itself around his mind like a vice, catapults him back to when he was just a kid, fighting the world with his teeth bared and no one at his back. 

Everything goes fuzzy and distant, the noises muffled beneath his heartbeat and heaving breaths echoing endlessly in his ears. He slows to a stop, chest heaving and eyes wide, skin going cold and numb with terror. Nothing makes sense. Everything is wrong. 

There’s something in his hand, and he looks at it, panicked tears prickling at his eyes. He’s holding a sword, and an anguished, confused noise rips itself from his throat. Where’s his gun? Guns are better, guns are safer; guns mean he doesn’t have to get close. 

The moaning of the undead is growing louder, they’re coming for him, and he stumbles forward with gasping breaths, eyes flitting around wildly as he searches for a place to hide. The ground is filled with craters, zombies in every direction, and he blinks desperately to clear his blurry vision, pushing forward with all the desperate agony of a man living on borrowed time. 

He thinks he hears someone call his name, but it can’t be real, it’s just a memory, it’s just his stupid, persistent hope manifesting itself at the worst possible time. He has to get back to his base, his bunker, but nothing looks familiar, no direction looks like the correct way to go—

He runs anyway, passing by a giant stone statue and weaving around holes in the ground and slashing blindly at anything that looks like it’s moving. He spots a tower in the distance, oddly shaped and oddly colored, but a structure nonetheless, and he runs for it. The zombies are here and they never left and he never left and he runs. 

He only makes it halfway. 

There’s a zombie in one of the craters, and Scar doesn’t see it, is too wrapped up in his tunnel vision, and it grabs at his ankle as he walks by. He hits the ground, hard, his knee hitting first before everything else. He hears a sharp crack, and knows it’s broken. 

He twists his head around wildly, tearing his leg out of the zombies cold grip with a yell of pain, dragging himself out of reach just in time for others to bear down on him. His vision becomes a swirling kaleidoscope of hands and teeth, of skin and claws, and he opens his mouth and screams. 

(He won’t know until later, but everyone near spawn hears it. Everyone hears it, and freezes, and turns to look. It sounds like pure terror, like the final cry of a dying man. None of them will ever forget it.)

He swings his sword wildly, slashing and scrambling to get away, but his knee hurts and they’re pushing him down, he can’t get up—

He hears yelling, distantly, but that still can’t be right, no one else is here, no one else can save him—

Scar rolls to the side, and falls into one of the craters, dirt and pebbles sprinkling down on top of him when he hits the ground with a dull thud. He shouts through clenched teeth as the landing jostles his leg, but still pushes himself up and back until his back hits the solid side of the hole. Grass and dirt is still clinging above him, forming somewhat of an overhang. They can’t attack from directly above. Scar grips his sword in violently shaking hands and waits for the hoards to find him. 

He still hears the voices, but he shouldn’t be hearing voices, he’s alone here, he hasn’t heard a human voice not his own since he was six, and he closes his eyes tightly for a few seconds, willing himself back to reality. Something drops to the ground in front of him, and Scars eyes wrench themselves back open, landing on the shadowed figure of a person coming his way. He has both hands on his sword, and he points it at the approaching zombie. 

It speaks. It says his name. 

“Scar,” the figure says, a deep, frantic concern in their voice. “Are you— What happened? Are you okay?”

The cloud that had been blocking the moon slowly drifts away, and Scar gets a good look at the figure — the person — in front of him. He’s human, he’s alive, and Scar knows him, he knows who it is, but he can’t be here, he’s not supposed to be here. This is the world where Scar is young and alone. No one else belongs here. 

The past and the present collide angrily in his head; he doesn’t know what’s real. He doesn’t even know this person's name. The person is crouching a few feet away, empty hands extended imploringly, worry plain in his eyes. Scar’s eyes catch on his shirt, black with gold accents, and can’t help but think that something’s missing. A letter, he thinks, but can’t quite remember which one. 

It doesn’t matter. He’s not really here. 

He must’ve said some of that out loud, because the man’s face drops, something heartbroken pinching at his eyes. Scar feels bad, and doesn’t know why. 

“I’m here, Scar,” says the man, voice trembling. “I’m real. You’re okay.”

The man is a liar. Scar shakes his head, a trembling exhale shaking his tense frame. The sword remains steady. 

“No,” Scar says, voice strained and breaking. “No, you— you can’t be. Not here.”

“Scar—“

“Stop saying my name,” Scar begs. “I don’t know— I don’t know who you are.”

It’s only half true. He recognizes him, knows he’s a friend, but his brain is rebelling against the very thought that he could exist in a place like this. In the place Scar grew up. No. Everyone was either dead or undead, here. Everyone but Scar. This person with sad eyes and gentle hands does not belong. 

“Impulse!” Another voice is calling down at them, and Scar looks up, catching a glimpse of bright orange curls and mismatched eyes. Nothing makes sense. “Is he okay?”

The man — Impulse — looks at him, and then looks up. He can still hear the zombies, everywhere and far too many. 

“Get Grian,” Impulse says, and the person above them freezes for just a moment, and then disappears. 

Grian, Scar thinks. Another name he knows. Another name that doesn’t make sense to be hearing in a world like this. His mind scrambles, his eyes sting, the zombies groan and shriek above him. Nothing makes sense. 

Grian will, some distant and muted part of him says. 

Grian will. 

—————————

Grian is on top of their cobblestone tower — laughing at the sheer amount of zombies and chaos in the distance — when Gem comes tearing up the slope at high speeds, something frantic and determined in her eyes. 

“No zombies allowed!” Grian calls down, grinning, though it dims when she looks up at him. There is something serious and desperate about her gaze. 

“Grian!” She slides to a stop at the base of their castle, face dotted with sweat and panic. “You need to come with me, something—“

“You’re just going to kill me,” Grian says, confused and faltering. “Why would I—“

“It’s Scar,” Gem interrupts, a harsh concern clipping her words. “He’s— Something’s wrong with him, a zombie got him and he screamed.”

Grian tilts his head. “Scar screams all the time.”

“Not like this,” Gem says, sounding genuinely shaken. “Not like this, Grian, please.”

She doesn’t even have her sword out, standing at the base of their fortress with wild eyes and a desperate plea. Something’s wrong with Scar. Something bad enough that everything else has gone out the window. Gem’s not here asking him to play the game. She’s here begging him to pause it. 

“Okay,” Grian says, a new bubble of panic growing in his chest. “I’m coming, let’s go.”

Gem nods at him when he emerges from the tower, and then she takes off running, leaving Grian with nothing to do but follow. It seems to take forever to get there, weaving around hoards of zombies and craters left over from the wither attack. The other server members are mowing through the hoards with swords and axes, and what seems to be extreme prejudice. They all look a bit shaken. The coil of nervous worry in Grian’s rib cage grows. 

Gem stops them at a random crater, and nods. “Down there,” she says, and then throws herself back into the fray, cutting through any undead limbs that reach for her. The surface is a battlefield. 

Grian drops down, and Impulse turns to look at him, grim concern pressing his lips thin. He looks relieved when he sees him, and Grian looks behind him and realizes why. 

Scar is there, hunched against the wall and shaking like a leaf, sword held in trembling hands and fearful eyes flickering between them. Grian’s stomach drops, and he inhales shakily. Scar looks lost, and so very, very afraid. He’s never seen him like this. 

“It’s the zombies,” Impulse says, quietly. “They set him off somehow, I— He barely recognizes me.”

Grian remembers, distantly, Double Life. Scar had fallen into a pit of zombies, and they had both died that day. He hadn’t quite understood why their shared heart had been beating so fast for so long after; he never knew the reason for Scar’s shell-shocked eyes above his trembling smile when they met back up. He still doesn’t know why, but now he knows for sure. Scar is afraid of zombies. 

“Get rid of them,” Grian says, equally hushed, even though everyone has already started. Impulse just nods, one hand on his sword, and climbs out of the crater. Grian turns to Scar. 

“Scar,” Grian starts, voice carefully relaxed. “You’re safe, okay? We’re getting rid of them.”

Scar shakes his head, moonlight catching on the tear tracks on his face, and Grian aches.

“You can’t be here,” Scar says, turning pleading eyes towards him. “You— You can’t be here.”

Grian gets a little closer, and crouches down, doing his best to appear non-threatening. “Why not, Scar?”

“It’s wrong,” Scar says, sounding all of ten years old, terrified and unsteady. “I’m supposed to be alone, you can’t be here.”

“Why are you supposed to be alone?” 

“It’s just me, it’s always just me,” Scar insists, and then he inclines his head upwards, to where the zombies are still groaning. “Me and them.”

Grian swallows, feeling out of his depth and worried. The only reason Scar would have a reaction like this is if it had once been true. Once upon a time, it really had just been Scar and hoards of zombies. And in Scar’s mind, that’s where he was. He’d never left. Grian’s stomach rolled. 

“We’re not there,” Grian says, still unsure where there was. “We’re in Secret Life, Scar. We’re playing a game.”

Scar shakes his head again, violently, and starts trying to stand up. A muffled whine escapes his throat when he puts weight on his knee, but still he stands. Grian wants to grab him and shake him and then wrap him up in several blankets. 

“You’re hurt,” Grian says, a note of pleading in his voice, hands hovering, wanting to reach out. “You shouldn’t be walking, Scar.”

“I’ve walked on worse,” Scar says vacantly, and twists around to look behind him, making a noise of frustration. “My backpack, where’s my— I need—“

“Backpack?” Grian repeats. 

“I need morphine,” Scar says, voice tight with pain and panic. “I need to get out of here. You need to get out of here. You can’t be here.”

Morphine. Scar’s plan is to numb the agony of a broken knee and run on it anyway. Scar says it like it’s normal, like there’s no other choice, like this is the only way. Maybe it was, once. Grian wants to scream and cry and pull the universe apart with his hands. Instead, he grabs Scar’s wrist in a gentle hold. 

“I am here,” Grian says, soft but firmly still, and Scar freezes. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Grian tugs at his wrist making Scar meet his eyes, trying to ground him. Scar blinks at him, hazy and distant, chest heaving. Grian reaches out slowly, and takes the sword from Scar’s hand. 

“Do you remember,” Grian begins, “asking me to be your friend?”

Grian remembers. Scar, with grey skin and crimson eyes, hiding a sheepish grin behind a bouquet of poppies and lilacs. Something like recognition flickers across Scar’s face, and Grian keeps going. 

“We had a llama called Pizza.”

“I blew you up on accident.”

“The moon was falling and you built a rocket upside down.”

“You were my soulmate, of course it was you—“

“You made fun of our bread bridge.”

“You were actually a pretty good mayor, you know.”

Grian lays their memories out between them, holding Scar’s wrist gently in his hands, and doesn’t stop until Scar looks at him and finally seems to see him. His face crumples, awareness flooding his expression, and Grian lowers them both to the ground when Scar’s knees give out. 

“I’m sorry,” Scar says, voice cracking, and he gives an awkward little laugh that makes Grian’s heart twist sharply. “That doesn’t— That hasn’t happened in a while.”

“It’s okay, Scar, don’t apologize,” Grian says, adjusting his grip to hold Scar’s hand loosely. “Do you feel better?”

“I feel like I ran a marathon,” Scar answers, exhaustion in his tone. “I don’t— Thank you. For bringing me back.”

“Of course.” Grian hesitates. “…Where did you go?”

Scar takes a shaky breath, eyes going tired and sad. Grian’s eyes catch on a scar peeking out beneath his collar. 

“I was stuck in a hardcore world when I was a kid,” Scaf says eventually, resigned. “I was the only player in a zombie apocalypse. I had to… let myself die, to get out. But I spent years there.”

Grian stares, quietly horrified. He imagines Scar, so very young and so very alone, running on broken limbs and killing things that once were people every day, and still finding the willpower to survive for years and years. That Scar had grown up in a world without light and still come out of it with a personality bright enough to blind them all — it was nothing short of miraculous. Brilliant, mischievous, stubborn Scar, with enough skeletons in his closet for all of them and the uncanny ability to make them laugh until they were out of breath. 

“You never said anything,” Grian says, careful to keep any accusation out of his voice. He understands. He still wishes he had known, somehow. 

“It’s not fun to hear about,” Scar says, and stares at his broken knee. “And it’s…not easy to talk about, either.”

“I know,” Grian says, squeezing his hand. “But if you ever want to, I’m here. I don’t want— I don’t want this to happen again.”

The zombie sounds have died down, the others having done their damn best to kill them quickly. It’s quiet but for their breathing, slowly slowing down. 

“I’m a lot better,” Scar says, brow furrowed. “That was just, a lot more than I was expecting.”

“It’s okay,” Grian says. “It’s… You don’t have to be better all the time.”

Scar glances at him, his mouth lifting just a bit, looking a little lighter. “Thanks.”

“And you can talk to us.” Grian smiles back. “We can help you when it’s hard.”

Scar lets out a long, slow breath, the shake in his hands finally down to something manageable. Grian is relieved for all of two seconds, and then something mischievous flickers in Scar’s eyes. Grian sighs, because he knows what’s coming—

“That’s what she said,” Scar says, quick and unapologetic, and Grian smacks his shoulder with his free hand. Scar laughs, and Grian just rolls his eyes and grins. 

Yeah. He’ll be fine.

[ollypopwrites]

Happy Pride Month I am nothing but a sappy bisexual who wants to make love to her video game wife.

Karlach pre-engine fix mutual masturbation.

Karlach x F!Reader

CW: 18+ (MDNI), dirty talk, slight switchy dynamics. Horny and sweet, just like our fiery friend.

❤️‍🔥 you just want some alone time with her not even sexual you just like being around her

❤️‍🔥 sitting in her tent with the flap only barely closed cuz of the heat but your determined to withstand it

❤️‍🔥 but gods it’s hot in there so you remove your shirt. You’re all sweaty and in your underclothes and trousers and now it’s even HOTTER when you notice Karlach’s starting to burn blue

❤️‍🔥 she makes a needy noise “you’re killing me soldier”

❤️‍🔥 “sorry” you say sheepishly, “should I go?”

❤️‍🔥 “don’t you fucking dare.”

❤️‍🔥 it’s torture for her. You’re soooo close, close enough to touch, but she just can’t and even though she’s literally playing with fire somehow it’s worse to think of you leaving

❤️‍🔥 she just crosses her legs stretched out in front of her and her tail wraps around herself tight, trying to maintain self-control

❤️‍🔥 her reaction excites you and you can’t help but speak. “you always ask what I would do if I could touch you,” you lick your lips as a bead of sweat drips down your temple and onto your neck, her eyes watching it as it goes. “But what would you do if you could touch me?”

❤️‍🔥 “everything. I’d do it all.”

❤️‍🔥 she sounds so different. She’s always loud and joyful and silly, but now her voice is so much lower and rougher. You can tell how badly she wants you just by the tone.

❤️‍🔥 “tell me.”

❤️‍🔥 “I want to lick the sweat off your neck there,” her eyes are glued to the spot. She blinks a couple times, “we’re playing a dangerous game here, baby.”

❤️‍🔥 your smile feels wicked as it spreads on your lips. “Live a little,” you tease.

❤️‍🔥 “I’ll burn you,” she says, truly tormented. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

❤️‍🔥 “you won’t.” At her confused look you bite your lip. “You stay over there and I’ll stay here.”

❤️‍🔥 it takes her a minute to understand what you mean ( 8 INT + horny brain, she’s doing her best) but she groans and grins “gods you’re a genius.”

❤️‍🔥 “tell me where you want to touch me” you don’t mind taking the lead, it’s been years since she could entertain the idea of a lover, years since she could experience anything like this with someone else — it’s okay if she needs some help figuring it out again

❤️‍🔥 “I’d touch your face first,” she tells you, and you caress your hand over your own cheek, “touch your lips” you drag your middle finger over the sensitive skin

❤️‍🔥 “take your hand, kiss the palm” you instruct, and when she does you say, “close your eyes.”

❤️‍🔥 she just holds her hand there for a moment eyes screwed shut, you can hear her lips smack against the palm of her hand. She makes another quiet noise, and you let her enjoy the image of it for a moment.

❤️‍🔥 “I’d rip that top off.” She says once her eyes open, gaze glued to your chest. You don’t rip it, but you do remove the last piece of clothing keeping your breasts from her view. For a moment she just stares.

❤️‍🔥 “grab them,” it’s half of a demand, half of a plea, and you do as she asks. Grabbing your tits in your hands, squeezing and massaging them. Karlach’s nearly panting, as she tugs down her own top. You admire the glow of her skin, blue against red in a beautiful contrast, and the way her nipples are already hard.

❤️‍🔥 “play with - I wanna play with your nipples,” she breathes, her own hand coming up to her chest. “Do you like that?”

❤️‍🔥 you nod, a white hot flash of pleasure shooting down your spine as you pinch the the soft skin. Your head tilts back, and you rub your legs together for some friction. “Are they soft? Gods, I bet they’re soft.”

❤️‍🔥 “they are,” you breathe, eyes opening to watch her mirror your movements, little noises of pleasure and heavy breathing akin to how she does in a fight making the space feel hazy. You’d never be able to watch her fight again without getting wet, the dark focus in her eyes looks so similar, the rough grunts and bright heat you can feel radiating off of her all too familiar

❤️‍🔥 “pants, take ‘em off,” she says.

❤️‍🔥 you both wriggle around on the ground, careful not to touch as you take off the remainder of your clothes. It feels good, the heat in the tent is overwhelming but you find it adds to the excitement of it. You feel loose, relaxed and now that there’s no sweat slick clothes sticking to your skin, it’s comfortable.

❤️‍🔥 “you’re so gorgeous,” she huffs. “It’s not fair. I just want to touch you.”

❤️‍🔥 “trust me,” you reply, eyes roving over all of her muscle, all the scars and marks and infernal ridges of her skin, “I know what you mean.”

❤️‍🔥 “open your legs for me, darling,” she says, and immediately you have to swallow past a dry throat. She’s getting more used to it now, she’s feeling confident, and knows exactly what she wants.

❤️‍🔥 you spread your legs, exposing your wet cunt for her, and she bites at her lip. She does the same and you want to bury your face there, let her ride your tongue for as long as she likes, to start claiming back years of pleasure that was she was denied.

❤️‍🔥 “I wanna kiss a trail down to that pussy, baby,” she breathes. “I want to taste all of you.” You tickle your hand down your torso, her watching as you do. Her hands twitch on top of her thighs.

❤️‍🔥 “you can touch yourself,” you remind her. “It’s okay.”

❤️‍🔥 “together.” Is all she can seem to find the brainpower to elaborate on.

❤️‍🔥 you nod, dipping your fingers between your legs, watching as she rubs the seam between her legs but never dips her fingers inside. You spread your lower lips, showing her all of you, the lewdness of the gesture and the way her jaw drops making you twitch

❤️‍🔥 “are you wet?” She asks. “For me?”

❤️‍🔥 to prove it to her you rub through your folds, the wet sounds almost drowned out by the sound of heavy breathing but Karlach is pinpointed into every move and sound you make, and she hisses at it. “Fuck, you dirty girl. Soaked for me. Good.”

❤️‍🔥 oh. Well. You hadn’t expect her to get so comfortable so quickly, nor had you expected the slightly authoritative tone. But you certainly aren’t complaining.

❤️‍🔥 “show me what you like,” she tells you. “When I get my hands on you, I wanna know what makes you scream, love.”

❤️‍🔥 “you first,” you challenge.

❤️‍🔥 Karlach gives a truly wicked grin. She finally gives in, her fingers delving into her cunt. You watch, mesmerized by the lick of flames that dance on her skin, as she dips a finger into her hole, dragging wetness up to her clit where she slowly starts to circle.

❤️‍🔥 you lick your lips, rubbing gently at your own, it’s simultaneously so exciting and frustrating. You want her. You want her to touch you, you want to kiss her, you want to hear those low grunting moans in your ear—

❤️‍🔥 “I know, me too.” The tadpoles must have connected your consciousnesses, and you had a fleeting flash of embarrassment, hoping no one else in the camp had also been included in the connection.

❤️‍🔥 Karlach was twitching, hips rolling up to meet her own touch as she slunk down slightly. Her other hand played with a nipple, pinching and squeezing hard and rough. You memorized the method, mouth watering to put the stiff peak between your lips.

❤️‍🔥 “fuck yourself with your fingers,” she breathed. “I wanna see.”

❤️‍🔥 you sunk a finger into your own heat, the soft wet walls taking the intrusion easily, you were quickly losing focus as you gently pumped in and out.

❤️‍🔥 “you can do more,” she said, eyes intensely trained on you. “Know you can.”

❤️‍🔥 another finger then, anything she wanted, you would certainly do. You pumped, curling your fingers best you could to hit that spot that you loved but it was just slightly out of reach. You knew she’d be able to hit it easily.

❤️‍🔥 “gods I want to try everything with you,” she whined. Her fingers her dancing over her clit, quicker and more urgent. “Would you let me fuck you? Like with a toy?”

❤️‍🔥 “fuck,” you shuddered, “yes.”

❤️‍🔥 “bet you’d beg for it,” she grinned wickedly. “A big red cock, strapped to me so I can feel it in my clit while I rail you. Fuck.”

❤️‍🔥 “thought about it a lot, have you?”

❤️‍🔥 “you have no idea.” She was getting excited, all the things she wanted to do bubbling to the surface in a hazy stream of consciousness she spoke out loud. 10 years of only being able to fantasize seemed to have given her very detailed images of exactly what she wanted, and she was happy to share them with you.

❤️‍🔥 “Just wanna see your hole stretched for me, lick your clit and fuck you until you squirt for me,”

❤️‍🔥 “fuck - Karlach,” you breathed in shock. You had asked her to tell you what she would do if she could touch you. But the list of ideas was so long, so delicious you started to feel yourself tipping towards coming hard.

❤️‍🔥 but she wasn’t ready to stop telling you everything she wanted. “Grinding our cunts together, until we can’t come anymore, hold you down on the ground and ride your face — play with your pretty pussy so you see stars while I fuck myself on your tongue -“

❤️‍🔥 “Karlach,” you chanted her name, “I’m —“

❤️‍🔥 “yeah? You there?”

❤️‍🔥 you nodded, unable to speak much else.

❤️‍🔥 “do it, please, let me — fuck yes.”

❤️‍🔥 you cut her off with a needy whine, back arching and hips rolling into your own hand. Wave after wave of satisfaction making your body break out into a new sheen of sweat, heart thudding in your chest.

❤️‍🔥 Karlach groaned, her hips bucking as she hit her own release. Her entire body burned bright blue, the rush of heat in the tent making your skin tingle. It was entirely worth it to watch her ride out her orgasm, until she fell limp on the ground.

❤️‍🔥 a moment of quiet as you two breathed heavily, the hot air making it even more difficult to slow your breathing down. You were parched, covered in sweat and still twitching.

❤️‍🔥 Karlach laughed. A loud, throaty fully bodied sound that made you grin. “Gods, soldier,” she sighed. “I nearly burnt the camp to the ground.”

❤️‍🔥”worth it, if you ask me.”

❤️‍🔥 “completely.”

❤️‍🔥 she was quiet for a moment. “You know what else I’d do?” You hummed in response. “I’d hold you. All night. Just want to have you near. “

❤️‍🔥 your hand came out, just close enough to hers that it was tolerable to your skin. It was something you two had started doing, hands just close enough to touching as was safe — the closest you could get to holding her hand.

❤️‍🔥 “I’m here.” You assured her. “I’ll never be too far.”

🔥 she grinned, and the engine in her heart glowed.

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Casual intimacy

a/n Cracks knuckles… let’s go… 🙃 I loved writing this so I hope you will enjoyed reading it. Cause this one cracked something deep within me. 🫧🤭

request: Hiii! I absolutely love your work I think you're so talented. If you have time can I request an angsty Ruhn x Reader, maybe he gets jealous or something because she has such a bubbly personality and guys flock to her?

warning: a bit suggestive here and there, alcohol, drugs, smoking.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Ruhn was tired. Playing pretend always drained him. For the most part, he bit back at his father, but even there were limits. And when his father wasn’t at the center of his headaches, the fact that he was a crowned prince was. Ruhn flicked the cigarette out of the open car window as he waited for the light to turn green. “Be on the bed when I get back," he typed out quickly. A slight smile tugged at his lips.

Ruhn imagined that crimson haze creeping onto your cheeks. You had been an angel when you two first met. More like a caged bird. And while the world saw him as a devil who made a good girl go bad, in reality, he had freed you from the chains that had bound you to the dark cell for eternity. And if everyone was having a fright at the sight of a cigarette or a shot glass in your hand, they could all go fuck themselves.

A ding had Ruhn glancing at the screen in his car. "Unfortunately, I won’t be able to oblige," the message read, and Ruhn frowned. He blinked a couple of times. It was usually “you’re an idiot” or a nice picture that sent him pressing his foot just a bit more on the gas. What was the reason for this? Did you get your period? But that wasn’t very likely. Ruhn could sense when the red flow was coming. And you weren’t talking about cramps. He was about to fire out a quick “because?” when another ding sounded. And a picture appeared on the dash. A growl ripped through him. Here you stood. An innocent smile, still in the dress Ruhn had watched you put on this morning. By your side stood Flynn, who looked like a lost dog, glancing at the half-made sandwich on the counter. No, this wasn’t happening. Not tonight.

Ruhn quickly dialed your phone, gripping the steering wheel tightly. You didn’t even get a chance to breathe on the other side as he huffed, “What the fuck?” The music was almost deafening. So was the sea of voices. That scraped like a nail against his mind. “Hey, hotshot, this wasn’t my idea," you chirped, and as much as Ruhn was frustrated, the sound of your voice alone made his shoulders ease. “Tell them to fuck off," he hissed. He should have moved out long ago. Gotten you two an apartment and called it a day. “I can’t do that; I don’t live here." You chuckled softly, giggling at something Flynn said. Ruhn frowned. “You are my girlfriend; you are entitled to do what you want there," he pointed out. You had refused the title. Refused any benefits dating someone like him brought. The doors it opened. It was one of many reasons Ruhn loved you. Because for the very first time, he felt more than his title. More than just a pawn in someone’s game.

"Ruhn, I am not ordering two grown men around," you said, and while Ruhn didn’t agree, he didn’t get to voice his opinion because his words got overshadowed by someone calling for you. “Oh yeah, you can find that upstairs," you said, Ruhn could hear the smile on your face. "Babe," he called out, not loving the idea that someone had managed to steal your attention from him. “Oh, no, it’s okay. Call if you need anything." From the way your voice sounded, he could also tell that you had the phone away from your ear, so he used other methods. Trusted kind.

Y/n. He spoke within your linked hearts. Feeling the fluster in your heart at his call. But his hope got crushed as soon as it bloomed. Give me a moment, Ruhn. Ruhn not even a hotshot, not a babe. Ruhn gritted his jaw. “No, liquor is on the right shelf," you said, as he listened to you try to get through the crowd of people. “Get your legs off the counter, you freak," you hissed, followed by the sound of a chair being dragged back. "Yeah, sorry, the house is full," you muttered slightly under your breath, and suddenly he was back to hating that party. Because you had woken before the sun had even been up. Studies and work keep you busy. Even if Ruhn had told you many times that you didn’t have to work,

“I am sending them to Urd and then fucking back," he grunted, making you let out a chuckle. The sound of it still made his stomach warm. “Light up, they brought shit to smoke," you sighed, and while he enjoyed a good smoke, especially if you joined him, and even more so if you both rode the aftermath together, he just didn’t want that today. “I don’t...", Ruhn had started when a loud bag came from somewhere in the house, and the place erupted in gassing shouts and angry grunting. “Fuck, got to go," you breathed. "Drive, save, baby," you muttered. “Y/N, don’t go near...”, but the line went dead. "Fuck," the princeling hissed. Oh, he was going to hang both Dec and Flynn by their balls, and he was going to enjoy every second of it.

You were nowhere to be seen when he stepped into the madness of the house. Ruhn felt you, so that had to be good enough for now. You were in the house. The question, however, was where exactly that was. "Man, this is sick." Some guy clasped a hand over Ruhn’s shoulder, making the crowned prince bat the touch away stiffly. “Yeah, dude, you’re dope!" the other shouted, his eyes red as fire. There was too much substance in his body. Ruhn frowned, trying not to show the disgust on his face. “Get your shoes off my fucking carpet," he hissed in dismissal, walking past them. His frustration only grew the more he looked around for you. If not for the music, he would reach out through the bond once again. But his head was pounding, and he knew there was no way for him to concentrate enough.

Then Ruhn’s eyes fell on a small group forming near the kitchen. It wasn’t usual. If people did drugs or mixed drinks, they usually went in groups of two. Not a whole fucking sea of them. An itch inside him flared up, and he didn’t even realize it when he started walking towards it.

“So how did you do it?”, a lazy voice asked as Ruhn approached. “I just painted, silly," and that was all it took for his body to ignite. No one even matched the power your light voice had on his body. “Yeah, but that’s one big canvas," another voice slurred. Ruhn licked his lips as he stepped through the arc, and the sight was far from what he had hoped for. There you stood, a white angel in a sea of hacks. Pouncing on you for a nibble.

“I didn’t sleep, I mean," Ruhn watched as a blush on your cheeks. “Colors just guided me. It sounds insane, I know, and no, I was not high," you said sheepishly, making everyone in the room chuckle. But Ruhn saw it. The way they looked at you. They didn’t care about this. Didn’t care about your passion. Didn’t care about the spark in your eyes as you spoke of the things you loved. You were a spectacle. A pretty thing to look at. But it’s when one of them reached out to tuck the hair that had slipped out of your silk bow that Ruhn stepped forward, yanking one of the guys by the back of the shirt as he shouldered past them.

He only managed to catch a glimpse of you inhaling before his hand wrapped around your neck as he pulled you closer to him. Crashing his lips against your red-painted ones. You melted against him. He cared little for anything else as he bent slightly to grab at your thighs, lifting you and guiding you onto the counter as he spread your legs, stepping in between them. Before his fingers found your hips, he pulled you against him. "Ruhn." Your voice was breathy and weak as you wrapped your legs tighter around his middle. “Want to moan that louder?”, he teased, his lips hovering over your neck as he pinched your bum, making you squeal. “I leave you for a day and come to find you in a sea of men," Ruhn hissed with a shake of his head. You knew that it wasn’t anger. It was more lust and that sparkle of possessiveness.

“Jealous much?”, you purred, smirking as you ran your fingers over his jaw. “Don’t play with me, woman," he muttered, his hand once again wrapping around your throat as he inched closer. "Oh," you coo, “I forgot that you’re just a baby." You sighed, cupping his cheeks, but that was short-lived. One moment you were still on the counter, the other in the air and over your boyfriend’s shoulder.

“Ruhn Danaan, put me down." You wiggled in his hands. Tried to hit his chest but for nothing. If anything, that only earned you a slap on your bum and another gasp as your cheeks flared to life with red. “You...", you hissed out, but Ruhn only settled his hand on your ass, keeping the dress over your exposed bottom. Not too keen on others getting a glimpse at what lay underneath. “Don’t finish that unless you want me to spank you again," he mussed, smug as a cat as he moved through the crowd of people.

Whistling met you right by the stairs. One that Ruhn recognized, considering that he stopped. “You two are in deep shit," the crowned prince hissed, throwing a glance at his two best friends. But all they did was laugh. “Fuck it out of him, Yn, please," Dec mussed, grinding his hips in the air. “Suck one-off for the team," Flynn saluted as you three burst into laughter. It appeared that only Ruhn didn’t find that appealing. And something told you that if you weren’t over his shoulder now, friend or not, they might just taste the back of Ruhn’s hand. But he only cursed under his breath. “I will leave you two dickless," he threatened, reaching for the railing as the two man-children moaned and growled downstairs.

Ruhn was breathing heavily when he finally closed the door of his bedroom. It wasn’t from your weight. It just all started to cave in on him as he lowered you to the ground. You nibbled against his neck, pulling away to reach for the hem of your dress, but Ruhn caught your wrist, guiding you closer to him. "No," he muttered. A slight shake of his head told you that he was dead serious, too. “Did you just say no to...", You had started in a teasing tone, but there was something in his eyes that made you stop. "Ruhn," you called out way softer now, brushing your fingers up and down his arms. “Come here, darling," you said, wrapping your arms around him. He wasn’t fully open and vulnerable often. And when he was. That meant that whatever you two were doing, you were the ones who would have to carry the heavy load. Just for a bit. until he finds his footing again.

“If this is about the males, I didn’t even for a second…," you muttered against his chest, but Ruhn only grunted, “I know you weren’t interested. It’s just…” he took a deep breath, “a long day." You knew how much more those three words implied. How much more complex it was. But you also knew that the last thing he needed was you trying to drag it all out of him. “Why don’t you lay down?”, you asked softly, brushing your fingers over his lower back.

“I’m okay here," he said quietly. The hold on your body didn’t ease. “Come on, we’ll lay naked; I’ll roll you a blunt," you poked at his chest, shooting him a loving smile as you wiggled your eyebrows. Ruhn let out a slight chuckle as he reached for the buttons on his shirt. You helped him drag the material off his body, kneeling to undo his shoes. Ruhn caught your chin, pulling your head up so you would look at him through your lashes. "Fuck, it never gets old," he grunted, brushing his finger over your slightly smudged red lip. You only grinned up at him, leaning in to kiss his thigh as you pushed his pants off him all the way.

Ruhn watched you in a daze before you pushed at his chest, sending him sprawled out on the mattress. He drank every movement you made. You reaching for a bag of mirth-root, licking the edge of the paper as you finish the roll. Lighting it up and taking the first hit before handing it to Ruhn. He watched the cloud of smoke flaring around you as you reached for your dress, pulling it over your head. He could very easily die here right now. And go to Urd as a happy man if the last sight he saw was you in nothing but a black thong.

It was this exact casual intimacy that had him running at first. He was frightened to feel secure with someone like that. To have someone trust him like that. Ruhn reached out, his hands gripping your thighs as he pulled you over onto him. A blunt burning between his teeth. You straddled his naked body with ease. The movement was second nature by now. “What do you need?”, you asked softly, brushing some of the hair away from his face. Ruhn found himself opening his mouth but shutting it closed once more. He didn’t know. He was only aware that he needed you but was not sure how. Bent over the counter? Seated on his face? Snuggled up against him? With you holding him instead? “That’s okay, we will figure it out." You leaned in and pressed a kiss on his chest, leaving feather-like brushes over his exposed skin. “You’ll tell me when you’ll know," you breathed, pulling back up to look into his purple eyes. He didn’t answer, wrapping an arm around your back as he pulled you closer to him. Skin to skin. There was nothing between you two. You rested your face on the crook of his neck, feeling him take another drag of the cigarette in silence. His silence. One that you threaded for him. Painted it. And for the first time in what felt like forever, Ruhn realized that there was no other sound around him, just a steady beat of your heart.

[janeyseymour]

Dancing On My Own (Tiesto Remix)- pt 2

After some pushback from the first, I knew I had to write a second part, and quick. this should placate most of you.

Summary: the aftermath.

Part 1.

WC: 2.25k

tags: @lakita-fisher @weeeeeeeeee3 @lilsmeaux @@morgana-larkin

You somehow make it home unscathed- you could barely see as you drove through your tears, your breakup playlist on full blast. You guess you’re officially done. With Melissa already having a new woman, you wonder just how much you ever even meant to her.

As soon as you’re pulling into your spot, the waterworks hit in full- as if they weren’t already. You rip off the jersey and hat that you wore out, not caring where they land as you throw them into your front room. You had bought a bottle of wine to share with the redhead that you fell madly in love with to celebrate getting back together, and hopefully a big win, but now that seems wrong to drink on your own. You reach for the vodka instead.

You don’t show to school the next day, calling out claiming that you’re sick. And you are. Your heart hurts more than you ever thought possible, and your hangover is killer. You spend the morning laying in bed, eyes rimmed red. The redness won’t be going away any time soon.

Melissa saunters into the school, happy that she hasn’t seen your car in the parking lot, and doing a little dance because her team won. She’s also quite happy that she was able to rebound with last night- even if she didn’t particularly enjoy the woman that she spent her time with. She much rather would’ve spent time with you, but… you were… are a Cowboys fan.

“Someone’s happy,” Barbara chuckles. She thinks she knows why. “Did you have a good night at the game?”

“I did!” Melissa grins. “I took this girl I met at the bar, and-”

The kindergarten teacher’s face drops. “What?”

“I wasn’t going to let the ticket I had for Y/N go to waste,” the redhead shrugs. “So I asked Lena if she wanted to go with me to heckle the Cowgirls fans.”

“Oh no,” Barbara whispers. “Oh, no. no. no.”

“What? I figured after Y/N and I, I should get myself back out there.”

“No,” Barbara states again with fire. “Oh good god.”

“What?! What, Barb?”

“I- I have to go make a call,” the kindergarten teacher grabs her coffee mug and heads out quickly. She closes her classroom door as she dials your number.

Your phone starts ringing far too loudly, and you groan. You glance at it and see Barbara’s contact picture light up.

“Hello?” you groan into the phone, just barely sitting up. Your voice is rough, both from the tears and the fact that you haven’t spoken since last night.

“Sweetheart,” your coworker whispers to you. “Where are you? Are you okay?”

“Home,” you grumble. “Sick.”

The kindergarten teacher frowns. “Sick? Lovesick?”

“Heartbroken,” you whisper, voice cracking slightly. “She was there with someone else. You knew, didn’t you?”

“Y/N, dear,” Barb sighs quietly. “If I had known that she was talking to someone else, I never would’ve told you to go for it. In fact, when she came in dancing today I thought it was because the two of you got back together.”

“Nope,” you pop the ‘p’. “She had her tongue down someone else’s throat.”

“Honey, I am so sorry,” the woman tells you softly.

“I’m not mad at you,” you tell her genuinely. “You didn’t do anything wrong but try to help me.”

“Can I do anything else for you?” Barbara asks.

You sigh. “Just… when I come back to work tomorrow, pretend I was sick? I don’t feel like having Janine jump down my throat.”

“I can do that,” the kindergarten teacher says softly. “And please know that even though the two of you aren’t involved anymore, we are all still on your side. You’re still a part of our-”

“It’s okay,” you sigh sadly. “I know that you’re all Melissa’s friends, and I don’t want to put any of you in an awkward position having to pick sides. She’s been here longer; it’s all hers.”

“Sweetheart,” Barbara breathes.

“It’s okay. I’ll be okay, Barb. Thank you for trying to help me,” you mumble before hanging up.

By the time you hang up with her, the students will begin trickling in, so Barbara doesn’t have time to go speak with Melissa about the situation at hand.

But at lunch, Barbara simply grabs her lunch and picks up the redhead’s that is already out on the table.

“Barb,” Melissa gasps.

“My room. Now,” is all the kindergarten teacher has to say to get her friend to follow her out of the staff room and down the hall, head hung like a child being escorted to the principal’s office.

When they get there, Barbara sets down their lunches at her desk and pulls a chair up for Melissa.

“Barb, c’mon,” your… ex-girlfriend groans. “What gives?”

“What the hell were you doing out with another woman?”

The second grade teacher immediately gets defensive. “Y/N and I-”

“Y/N went to the game last night… dressed in Eagles gear and ready to cheer for your team because she loves you,” the older teacher says sternly. “And you threw it in her face that you were done with her and already moved on.”

“She- what?”

“She spent close to a thousand dollars on sports gear last week to try to win you back. She wore Phillies gear, she wore Flyers apparel, she wore a Sixers sweatshirt, she even wore a jersey from the Union, and on Friday, she wore Kelly green to show you that she’s in Philly now.”

“Didn’t show up in a Hurts or Kelce jersey though,” Melissa rolls her eyes. 

“Because she was saving that for last night when she was going to win you back with the ticket that she managed to get next to you!”

Melissa’s face drops. “She- fuck.”

“She’s not sick. She’s heartbroken right now.”

The redhead bites her lip. “I fucked up takin’ Lena, didn’t I?”

Barbara nods. “She was crying when I called, and she told me she was heartbroken to see you with some other girl’s tongue down your throat.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah,” the kindergarten teacher nods. “That word.”

Melissa breathes out heavily. “Do you…” she shakes her head. “She’s still a Cowboys fan.”

“Melissa Ann, you love her. She loves you. She’s perfect aside from that one fact, and when she tried explaining herself to you at school, you wouldn’t let her get a word out. Hear her out, and even then… if she does love the Cowboys, are you really going to let something as trivial as a sports team rivalry come between you and the one person that you love?”

“I…” the redhead bites her lip. “Do you think I have a chance at winning her back?”

At that, the kindergarten teacher shrugs. “You’ll never know if you don’t try… although, I would end things with this new woman you were making out with last night.”

The end of the day could not come sooner for the second grade teacher. She’s debated texting you or calling you, but she feels this is something that she has to do in person.

So as soon as she’s finished for the day, she runs out. She leaves her lunch bag in the staff room, doesn’t wait for her work wife; she just books it. She’s tearing out of the school parking lot in the direction of your apartment complex.

The entire drive over, she’s preparing what she’s going to say to you, but once she’s standing on the door mat that you have sitting outside your front door, it all leaves her brain. She knocks a few times before stepping back.

Who the hell is at your door? Could it be Barbara checking on you? Or maybe she said something to Janine or Jacob, and they’re here to make sure that you’re okay? With a groan, you sit up and stand from the couch. You’ve been sitting there for so long wallowing in your self pity that you leave an indent in the cushions. You check the peephole, and… why is Melissa standing at your door?

You open the door, not caring how you look right now.

The sight of you hurts her heart. Your hair is messily tied up, you haven’t changed out of your pajamas, your eyes are still rimmed red… you just look so heartbroken right now.

“What? Come to yell at me some more?” you try sound angry, but it just comes out pathetic.

“No,” she says softly. “Hun, I’m-”

“Here to break up with me?” you sigh. “You made it pretty clear we were done.”

“Can I come in?” she asks quietly. The woman sounds so unlike herself.

You shrug and leave the door open as you walk away. She follows you in. “I’m here to say I’m sorry.”

“It’s whatever,” you sigh as you curl back into your mountain of blankets. “I’ll be fine. I’ll be civil the rest of the school year, I’ll leave you and your friends alone, and then I’ll find another school in the area to work at.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Well, it’s a little hard to work with your ex-girlfriend,” you sigh. “Now, if you wouldn’t mind seeing yourself out.”

“Y/N,” Melissa says so softly, and she has her eyes trained on you. They’re filled with sadness. “I don’t want to break up.”

“I thought we already did,” you spit out. “And if we didn’t, I know you had your tongue down another woman’s throat last night anyway, so if you don’t break up with me, I’ll do it for you. Then you can make me the bad guy when you-”

“Barb told me what you were trying to do,” the redhead admits softly.

“If you would’ve just listened to me, you would know that I didn’t necessarily have a choice in who I rooted for when it came to football. My father, who is my idol and best friend so don’t you dare say a single bad thing about him, loves the Cowboys. He insisted on buying me the Prescott jersey despite the fact that I didn’t want him spending that money on me to begin with.”

“I should’ve known with you growing up near Dallas,” she sighs.

“But I’m here now,” you continue. “And once I talked to him and he told me that if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em. So I did. I bought all of this Philly stuff, bought a ticket to the game and showed up in a hat and Hurts jersey, only to see you with someone else. So… it’ doesn’t matter.”

“Hun, I never wanted her.”

“Well, you got her.”

“The whole time, I was wishing it was you.”

You rub your temples.

“Barb told me she helped you,” the second grade teacher admits. “If I had known… I would’ve been-”

“Any time they brought me up, you shut them down,” you fire out. “You wouldn’t let me speak to you at all.”

“You avoided me too!”

“I was trying to give you space, and when I did try to talk to you, you shut me down and told me you weren’t going to date a Cowgirl.”

“How can I fix this?” Melissa asks as she comes to sit down next to you. “I’ll do- I’ll do anything.”

“I thought you weren’t going to date a Cowgirl,” you taunt her. “And you have your new girl now.”

“She isn’t my girl,” the redhead tells you sternly. “You’re my girl. She’s some random girl I picked up at a bar while I was trying to distract myself from missing you. The whole time I was with her, I wished it was you- I didn’t even sleep with her. She was throwing herself at me, but I couldn’t.”

“So what are you saying?”

“And then today when you didn’t show up to school, Barbara told me what you did and how she helped you… she talked some sense into me; asked me if I was really going to let a stupid sports rivalry get in the way of loving the one person I truly adore. The answer is no. I was… an idiot. An absolute idiot.”

“Yeah,” you snort. “You were.”

“So… I’m here, begging you to take me back. Please, Y/N,” Melissa tears up. “Please. Please don’t walk away.”

“Melissa, you hurt me more than you know,” you whisper.

“And I will spend the rest of my days making it up to you,” she promises you. “Please.”

You take a deep breath for huffing it out. Secretly, you were hoping she would come back to you. And the opportunity is right here in front of you. “It’s… it’s going to take a bit for me to fully forgive you.”

“And I understand that entirely. I was a real jackass. I’ll make it up to you however I can.” She pulls you into her arms and kisses your temple gently. “However I can.”

That ‘however’ is by having her take you to another Eagles game- with the entire Abbott crew. You wear your Hurts jersey, hanging off of her the entire night, and you cheer for your new team.

The other ‘however’ is by getting her to take you to a Phillies RedOctober game at Lincoln Financial field. When they play their celebratory song after clinching a spot in the World Series as NLC champions, you know that you’re no longer dancing on your own (tiesto remix). You have Melissa by your side. 

[magics-neptunes-things]

You Make My Heart Fluttered

Hi guys!

This is a new Luna one, it's been a long time to be honest. And with all that happened those past days we need some fluff!

This is like a 4+1, so four times Lucy almost say « I love you » to Ona and the first time she said it.

Please enjoy ♥

TW : None, I think? Let me know if you find something.

21 May 2023

Lucy is biting her nails, scared to be spotted by some fans or the journalists. She has no reason to come to see this derby officially, she’s playing in Barcelona since this summer and was in Lyon before that. She hasn’t told anyone that she will be here, except the person she wanted to surprise maybe.

She regrets not to have been able to see Ona’s face, when she sent her the picture with her plane ticket and the one to entry to the stadium for this game. Ona and her aren’t really together, they are taking their time even if several kisses were already exchanged. But it was hard for them to see each other as much as they wanted. Lucy feels frustrated, even if she can call Ona when she wants and even if they are texting almost all day long.

Lucy wants for discretion soon get ripped, because no one other than Sarina Wiegman is suddenly patting her shoulder.

“Well, hello there! I didn’t know you would be here. Would you like to come sit with me?”

Lucy groans inside but still offer a smile to her coach and stand up to follow her. She was wearing only black clothes and was with her back turning Sarina, how the hell this woman was able to recognize her?

“It’s great that you take time to come support your national teammates. So, which one are you for? City or United?”

Several weeks before, Lucy would have answer Manchester City. But now her… situationship is playing in United and of course Lucy wants her to win. But there is no way in the world that she will say that.

“I’m neutral here, they both have amazing players.”

Especially number 2 of Manchester United, Lucy thought. And when the game starts, Lucy can’t help but keep looking at Ona. She’s amazed by the way she plays, her rapidity, her strength and her perfect vision of the game. She makes feel like everything is simple, but Lucy knows very well that it isn’t.

She smirks behind her hand when United scores in the very first moment of the game, her chin resting in her palm. It’s just before the end of the first half that Sarina talks to her about something not football related.

“So. Which one are you in relationship with?”

Lucy turns wide eyes in her direction and Sarina rolls her eyes while smiling.

“I know you.”

“Well… Ona Batlle, number 2. She plays for United.”

“And Spain. I know her, very talented and precious for her teams. I hope we won’t have to play against her and Spain during the World Cup.”

The World Cup is in several months and that’s why Sarina is here to look some players, Lucy realizes. It would have been clever for her to think about it before.

“We’re not in a relationship though” Lucy mumbles.

“How’s that?”

“We are seeing each other’s, but we are not together.”

“Your generation is too complicated. Why in the world two people interested in each other would not be together if they can?”

Lucy smirks and shrug. The point of view of Sarina is probably the same as her mother’s would be, to be honest. But Lucy never talked about Ona to her parents for now. She talked about it to her brother though, so maybe they know already about the Spaniard.

“It’s a real question by the way. Is it because you want to have other possibilities if you met someone else?”

“What? No, of course not.”

Lucy frowns while Sarina shrugs. They never told specifically to the other that they don’t want to meet someone else, for Lucy it was obvious. Is it the same for Ona? She hopes so, she never even asked herself the question.

When she received a picture from Jordan about her in the stands, she knew that people would know that she was here. They don’t have any possibility to know why, though.

Lucy still has a strange feeling in her stomach after the game. She looks with pride when Ona received the MVP trophy and she discreetly make her way where Ona asked her to meet her.

The Spaniard is glowing when she finds Lucy almost twenty minutes later.

“Holà Guapa” Lucy says, making Ona chuckles.

They hug each other and Ona takes the time to breath Lucy scent before letting her go.

“I’m so happy you’re here. Thanks for coming” Ona smiles.

“My pleasure”

“Are you hungry? We can go eat somewhere or go to my apartment to order in.”

They decide to go to Ona’s, thinking that they will be more at ease there. At least they won’t take the risk to met someone they know or fans that would post pictures of them on Internet. And to be honest, Lucy would rather have Ona only for her.

She loves Ona’s apartment. It’s pretty, tidy and smells like Ona. She feels like she finds back a small part of Barcelona in Manchester. They choose what to eat before Ona disappears in her bathroom to take a shower. She doesn’t know that she let Lucy alone with her thoughts, the idea of Ona seeing someone else burning in her head and stomach.

She’s not good at hiding her feelings, so Ona realizes as soon as she comes back that there is something wrong.

“Are you ok?” she asks with concern.

“Yeah, I’m fine” Lucy lies with ability.

That’s what she thought. Ona raises an eyebrow while looking at her and Lucy bites her lips nervously. She scared about what that scare means. She knows very well how much Ona impacts her, but after her breakup with Keira she didn’t want to get close to someone else again. But it was before Ona came in her life and flops all her decisions upside down.

“It’s just…” she begins while Ona sits next to her. “Do you see someone? Other than me, I mean?”

Ona looks at her blankly before answering. The silence went only for five seconds but Lucy feels like it was three hours.

“Of course not. Who told you that?”

The younger one is frowning, and Lucy shakes her head softly.

“No one. It’s just that we never really said it to each other, so I was wondering if you were still interested about maybe meeting someone else?”

Lucy raises her eyes on Ona when she takes her hand in hers. Lucy has a cocky and funny side, but Ona realizes very soon how much her breakup made marks in her comportment.

“I am not interested in meeting someone else. I want to explore what we have and see where we can go together, if that’s what you want too.”

“It is” Lucy sighs with relief.

She feels like the world is suddenly of off her shoulders and it’s with a new assurance that she takes Ona chin in her hand to kiss her. It’s probably too soon to be in love with Ona. But she knows she is. She could easily say “I love you” but it’s really to soon.

July 2023

When Lucy proposed her to go on holidays together, Ona doesn’t have to think twice about it. Enjoying the sun with her favorite person? What can she ask for more? They choose to go to Mallorca, Lucy asked Mariona about somewhere they can go without being with a bunch of tourists.

They rent a villa with a swimming pool and a private beach, and Ona is almost bouncing on her feet while walking when she arrives at the Island airport. She came right from Manchester and Lucy from Barcelona, the English woman arrived early this morning while Ona’s flight was delay and is finally here at almost lunch time.

She’s spotted by some fans who ask a picture with her, before leaving the crowd of the airport to enter in a black car with tainted windows.

“Hola Guapa” Lucy smiles when Ona has closed the door.

“Hola Beautiful”

Lucy kisses her and Ona feels her heart fluttered like every time they kiss. They haven’t had seen each other from weeks now, both being very busy with the end of the season of their club and the World Cup who is coming.

They kiss some more times before Lucy starts the car to take her girl home. She can’t help but smile in front of Ona’s happiness, her personality having the same effect on her than a sun bath. She has to admit that she loses herself while Ona is still chatting about something, but only because she’s starring at the beauty she has in front of her.

“You’re losing it” Lucy said to herself

But then she takes another look at Ona. The younger girl is smiling while talking with animation about her flight. She is talking with her hands, the veins on it being sinful in Lucy’s mind. Her naturally tan skin is like glowing in the sun and she can’t wait for Ona to actually get a tan to see more freckles in her skin just to be able to kiss more of them.

Lucy knows very well that she couldn’t have ask for someone better than Ona. Everything seems easy and simple with her. She accepts each part of Lucy without any conditions or questions. Lucy knows that she’s not perfect, far from it, but Ona makes her feel like she is.

It’s a real ego boost and probably what she needed right now.

She retains the “I love you” burning her lips when Ona looks at her with her smile and ask “What?” when she realizes how much Lucy is starring.

“Nothing. You’re just so beautiful” Lucy answers.

Ona blush violently, making Lucy chuckles. She’s not playing fair maybe, but she likes seeing Ona becoming shy in front of her.

When they arrived at the villa, Lucy takes Ona’s suitcases in their room before grabbing her hand to show her every part of it. She had time to visit them while waiting for her.

“Everything is perfect” Ona smiles when they are near the swimming pool, in front of the beach and the sea.

“It is” Lucy smiles.

Ona, standing one meter in front of Lucy, doesn’t realize that Lucy isn’t looking at the view but at her, her eyes shining with love and admiration.

I love you, she thought.

20 August 2023

They lost. Lucy is still processing to admit that information, even if she saw the Spanish team receiving the trophy, this asshole of Vilda beaming like he was the one winning it. The only positive thing for Lucy is that the Spanish women will be heard about what they are enduring because of him and the RFEF. She’s pretty sure that the kiss stolen to Jenni Hermoso will make talk too.

She’s sitting on the bench, where the English team was during the game, silver around her neck. No one is next to her; she doesn’t know where Ona is. Lucy isn’t proud of her reaction when Ona tried to approach her after the final whistle. She almost run away from her, even if they promised each other that nothing would change their bond, no matter what the result is.

But she did, and she saw the sadness in her girlfriend’s eyes when she let Mariona recomfort her several minutes after. Ona made the choice not to come for her again and went to find Jenni and Alexia, the last one understanding pretty well what was going on. Ona hasn’t need to explain anything to Alexia, the pink hair woman just passed an arm around her shoulders to give her some comfort.

Lucy knows that Alexia has a soft spot for Ona, when she learned what was between them, she threatened the English woman not to move one ear otherwise she will be very hurt.

“Let her several minutes, she needs time to process. It’s not against you, don’t worry” Alexia wisely said.

Ona only hums in answer, playing without really thinking with her Captain’s fingers. It was before going for the Cup, and now Ona is in the changing room with her teammates and all she can think about is Lucy. She doesn’t know where she is, last time she checks, Lucy was sitting on the English’s bench.

She finally manages to escape Cata and her beers to go on the pitch. She doesn’t know if Lucy would have wait (for her or for anything) but she still has to be sure.

Ona doesn’t know if she’s more relieved or nervous to see that Lucy was still here, in her jacket, looking at the empty stands. She gulps before taking tentative steps towards her girlfriend and she froze when Lucy turns her eyes on her when she spots her.

Ona’s hesitation breaks Lucy’s heart a little more and she half stands up when she talks.

“Ona… Please, come.”

The steps the Spaniard takes less shy now and Lucy is looking at her with tearful eyes.

“I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have – “

“Don’t” cuts Ona while sitting next to her. “It’s ok, I understand.”

Ona’s empathy makes her tears more difficult to keep at bay. Lucy shakes her head and look at the ground, trying to put her feelings in the right order.

“It’s my fault” Lucy says brokenly. “I lost the ball and then Carmona was able to score.”

“None of that. Mary should have been able to stop the ball or one of your strikers should have scored too. You aren’t alone in this team, Lucia.”

Lucy shakes her head again. Those are the exact words she needed to hear, it’s like Ona is able to read her mind. It’s amazing and scary at the same time. She doesn’t realize that her tears are rolling on her face, but Ona does. Leaving her seat, she kneeled in front of Lucy to take her face between her hands.

“I feel like I let anyone down” Lucy whispers.

This time Ona passes her arms around Lucy’s neck, their faces closer that they haven’t been since their trip in Mallorca. Almost two months without a kiss exchanged and when they meet again it’s for breaking the heart of one of them.

“You didn’t let anyone down” Ona whispers back. “You were exceptional during the tournament, the best player of your team. You know as much as I do that your family and friends are really proud of you. I am proud of you.”

She doesn’t know what Lucy search in her eyes, but she lets her look at it the time she needed. They are in their bubble, forgetting the people around them and that there are photographs still in the pitch.

No one can see their faces and just when Lucy wanted to tell Ona those famous three words, the younger one close the distance between their mouths to kiss Lucy softly. It’s not the kind of kiss that you may share after being apart from your lover for two months. Ona’s kiss is sweet, delicate and so loving. Comforting.

They are disturbed several seconds after that kiss by someone walking in their direction. When Lucy raises her head, she realizes that it’s Mariona, who is smiling softly at them.

“Sorry to interrupt, but Ale sent me to tell you that there are still journalists around you.” Mariona says in Spanish.

Ona groans and Lucy rolls her eyes, but the Spaniard sit next to Lucy anyway. Using her jacket, Lucy takes Ona’s hand in hers while Mariona sits on her other side. Like other friends, Mariona knows about Lucy and Ona’s relationship. But Ona wanted to it to stay secret during the World Cup, not wanting to have comment about it from the staff or the Federation.

Lucy kept looking at Ona from the corner of her eyes while they are talking with Mariona. They are supposed to go back to their respective hotels after that, Ona will probably go out with her team to party. But she needs to find a way to have time with her girl. They will go to Menorca in several day before the season’s debut, only the two of them, but tonight she would love to have Ona with her.

Each team has a curfew, but Lucy will manage to make Ona enter her hotel and her room anyway. They didn’t talk about it to anyone. But they missed each other too much and Lucy smiles for the first time after the game when Ona will say that she “Would climb the ten floors to see you, if I need to”.  

August 2023

The hotel they rent has separated balcony and private swimming pools and it’s perfect that way because they almost never left their room. Lucy can only realize how much she is obsessed with her own girlfriend, not able to keep her hand off of Ona. Not that the younger one seems to complain about something, she is rather cuddly and touchy too.

Tonight, they finally decided to go out to eat something on a fancy restaurant Lucy spotted on Internet, but when Ona gets out of the bathroom in her white dress, hugging her body in every right part, Lucy almost jumped on her to rip her clothes off.

“Oh, come on” Lucy groans, throwing her hands in the air.

“What?”

Ona frowns, looking down on her outfit, persuaded that something is wrong. Her longs hairs fall on her shoulder and Lucy knows that it’s probably to hide the hickey she made last night even if they usually chose not to leave marks. She got a little lost in her feelings.

“How am I supposed to breath normally next to you, please?”

Realizing what Lucy meant, Ona smiles and arch an eyebrow while looking at her girlfriend.

“You must be joking right? Have you seen yourself, all abs and arms in display? You’re so hot that it’s ridiculous.”

Lucy smirks, before walking in Ona’s direction seductively.

“We still can cancel the restaurant” she says, grabbing Ona by her hips. “I’d love to order in and stay here”

“No” Ona laughs, putting one finger on Lucy’s lips when she went to kiss her neck. “You promised me the best paella in Menorca. We are going.”

Lucy whines and bites Ona finger slightly. The eyes of the youngest sparkle when she looks at her girlfriend. She seems so happy that Lucy feels her heart melt for her. Ona kisses her softly, stopping it the second when Lucy tries to deepen it.

“Behave yourself Lucia” Ona whispers before kissing her one more time to erase the pout on Lucy’s lips.

Almost a half hour later, they are at the restaurant. The view is beautiful, once again. Ona really like this place and she doesn’t hesitate to say it to Lucy. The latter smiles absently, looking at her girlfriend from the corner of her eyes. Even if it’s almost 8PM, the sky is still blue with the sun going under the sea.

They decided to share a paella and Lucy command them two Sangria. When the waitress left, she turns to watch Ona, just to see that she’s taking pictures of her with her phone.

“What are you doing?” Lucy smirks.

“Picturing the moment. It would be a shame not to have memories of you at that moment.”

Lucy rolls her eyes and take Ona’s chair with her hands to drag the new Barcelona’s signing just next to her.

“At least take one with me”

They in fact take more that one, even if Lucy will only share the ones Ona took of her alone. People don’t need to know that one of the others is her new wallpaper.

Even if it was hard at first to actually get out of their bedroom, they share a perfect moment. The food is perfect, the Sangria excellent (they actually ask for more), the view amazing and they both couldn’t ask for a better company.

When they come back to their room, several hours later, they both are a little tipsy. Lucy isn’t against a glass of wine from time to time, but Ona doesn’t drink a lot. She’s the one giggling, holding Lucy’s arm to be able to walk properly. And Lucy can only smile, she realized early in their relationship that Ona’s giggling is making funny things to her.

They managed to arrive in their room and Ona stumble to the couch, before lying on it, facing the ceiling. Once again, Lucy got struck by Ona’s beauty. She knows that she probably won’t be tired one day to look at her girlfriend’s perfection.

She is so in love.

It was stupid of her to try to fight her feelings in the beginning or to try to stop how fast and big they grow. She couldn’t ask for more or better.

She doesn’t say to Ona that she loves her right now, because they are tipsy and suddenly Ona’s turning her head with this special thing in her eyes that makes her head spin. So she just joins Ona on the couch to start what she wanted to do as soon as Ona got out of the bathroom some hours earlier.

22 October 2023

Lucy knows that it’s late today when she opens her eyes. The sun tries timidly to appear despite the shutters they closed when going to bed last night.

It was late, almost this morning to be honest. They played against Granada yesterday and after that Ona managed to convince her to go eat something in a restaurant. Unable to say no to her, Lucy followed her just to be surprised by a private restaurant, balloons, an “Per molts anys” garland and a lot of her relatives and friends. Her brother and his children couldn’t be here, but her parents and her sister were. Just like some of their teammates and friends.

Ona organized all of that, in addition to her training and her studies and Lucy’s mind blown. How did she managed to do that without her seeing anything? She didn’t have time to ask her the question though, she was way too busy having fun with her friends. Even if she kidnapped Ona to thank her with a kiss at some point of the night.

They won’t be together at Lucy’s real birthday, the national camps being at this date. Ona decided to surprise her girlfriend anyway.

When they got home, they both took a shower before going to bed. In several seconds they were out, and it was almost ten hours before.

Lucy is on her back while Ona is on her stomach, one of her hands on Lucy’s stomach, under her top tank.  It makes Lucy smile and she roll slowly on her stomach too, trying not to wake Ona up.

It’s not unusual for Ona to actually sleep in Lucy’s bed. It has, in fact, became their bed. At first, Ona wasn’t able to find an apartment who was good enough for her. So, her plan was to sleep to Aitana’s, but it’s safe to say that she must have sleep there three times.

She’s not even searching for her proper flat now, her belongings are standing next to Lucy’s and the English woman made place for Ona’s cloths in her closet. Even if Ona likes to wear Lucy’s clothes, just like right now. She’s wearing an old Manchester City jersey, with Bronze written on the back.

Ona wasn’t facing her, so she just has her head and long hair in view. But she strokes softly her hair, clearing the few strands she knows are obstructing Ona’s face. She restrains herself not to wake her, knowing that Ona loves her beauty sleep. That girl could sleep twelve hours non-stop and still take a nap several hours later.

When Lucy kisses her head, the Spaniard stirs and mumbles something in Catalan that Lucy doesn’t understand. But it still makes her smile. Her Spanish is much better since she’s with Ona, who even started to teach her Catalan. But not the “Sleepy from a beauty’s Catalan”.

After a big breathing, Ona turns her head to face Lucy, who start to stroke her face this time, drawing imaginary drawings between her freckles. It makes Ona smile softly and close her eyes again.

The amount of love, the strength of her feelings for Ona are too much. She feels like she will soon explode from affection for her. So, she just says it. For the first time.

“I love you.”

Ona’s eyes are suddenly wide open, looking at Lucy. The English smirks at Ona’s reaction, but in reality, her heart is beating fast. She never said that to Ona before and Ona didn’t say it either. They know obviously how much they care about each other. But never said it out loud.

“Did you lose your tongue?” Lucy laughs after several moments of silence.

“No, I just… Wasn’t excepting this”

“What, me loving you?”

Ona rolls her eyes; she remembers perfectly her confessions one night in Lucy’s bed about how much she rambles to some of her friends about the fact that the Lucy Bronze could be interested in her.

“More about you saying it at a random moment when I just woke up”

“There is nothing random in our relationship. And I should have told you sooner. I love you, Ona. T’estimo bojament.”

The Catalan part makes Ona’s heart fluttered and her smile is bigger than ever. She cups softly Lucy’s face with her hand to kiss her lovingly. Between two kisses, she managed to say

“T’estimo també”

[ryus3i]

WAXING THE BLUE LOCK BOYS

ft. Nagi Seishiro, Rin Itoshi and Oliver Aiku Cw; just a few curse words

A/n; dk what possessed me to write for Aiku but here it is, enjoy!

NAGI SEISHIRO

♡ He does not feel anything at all, I imagine he has a very high pain tolerance for some reason.

“Sei, hold still, it’s only gonna hurt for a second”

“Your lying, you know how much it really hurts”

“Just continue to play your game, and you won’t even feel it” you say, rubbing the pink strips between your hands to melt the wax.

Pulling the two strips apart you carefully place the pink wax on Nagi’s forearms .

“Ok I’m gonna count down to 3 and I’ll just pull it off”

“Angel no, this is such a hassle”. 

“You’ll be fine Sei”

“3”

“2”

“Wait, I’m not ready don-“

“1”, you say quickly ripping out the white hairs that littered Nagi’s arm. The once pink strip was now almost as white as snow.

“Oh”

“Sei, you didn’t even flinch, I told you it wasn’t gonna hurt ” 

“It didn’t feel like anything”.

“So you did all that whining for nothing,” you say, rubbing the soothing pad over his skin.

“No, it was just scary at first”

:x

RIN ITOSHI

♡ Didn’t really see why you wanted to wax his legs but let’s you do it anyway. Will never let you near his hair again.

“If you didn’t like my leg hair, I could’ve just shaved it off”. Rin says from his seat next you, his leg rests over your lap as you lay down the wax strips on his leg.

“Rin, you don’t understand, it’s not the hair. Have you ever heard of trying new things”.

“I think I’ve seen you do it enough times to never want to, dumbass”.

“Whatever, I think you’re just scared” you tease. He probably won’t even feel it you think to yourself. Rin was a big boy and he could handle a little pain.

“I’m not scared”.

“Yes you are, Rinnie”

“No, I’m not”

“Whatever you say, love” to this Rin only grumbles to himself and mutters a few words you don’t quite catch but you’re sure he’s cursing you out. 

“Okay, I’m gonna pull it off, you want me to count down or something?” 

“No, I don’t nee-“

Before Rin could finish his sentence you pull the pink strip as hard as you can, it only lasts a second but the amount of pain Rin feels is very evident.  Rin’s face quickly scrunches up as he tightly shuts his eyes in pain.

“Rin, are you okay, love?” you ask as you quickly open the soothing and rub it against his leg. You can only hope the pad soothes his pain and his anger.

“Don’t you dare, bring that thing near me ever again” he says, snatching the pad from your hands to rigorously rub the length of the leg. 

“Sorry Rin”, you say, reaching for his free hand.

Rin is quick to swat your hand away and turn away from you hiding his face and his now pink skin. It’s safe to assume Rin won’t ever let you near him again. 

OLIVER AIKU

♡ Comes to you to get rid of his mustache, lives to regret it.

“Hey doll, can you help me get rid of this”, Aiku  says pointing to the small hairs that fill the space between his nose and his lips. 

“You mean your mustache” it was just barely a mustache but Aiku wasn’t gonna hear that from you. 

“Yeah, the guys keep saying I look like a rat,” he pouts.

“Well, I think you look like a  cute rat but if this is what you want”

“You sure this is what you want, right” you question for the last time.

“Yes, this is what I want, doll”.

His heterochromatic eyes look up into your focused ones as you cut the wax strips to fit above his lips. 

“Okay Oli , I’m gonna count to three and then I’ll pull it off for each” you say as you press down the pink strips into his skin. To this he nods in compliance.

“1”

“2”

“Thr-“

“No I don’t want this anymore, Aiku exclaims as he tries to pull your arms down.

“What the fuck Oli, this is exactly why i asked you if you wanted this”. 

“I know but I just can’t, what kind of man would I be without my hair”.

“We’re about to find out because it has to come off”.

“What do you mean?” he questions as panic flashes across his eyes.

“The wax is already melted, the only thing I can do is take it off,” you explain.

“Baby, no” this is probably the first time you've ever seen Aiku pout. He’s pouted a handful of times but never has he pouted with watery eyes. 

“I’m so sorry,  this the only thing I can do” you say pushing back the hair that falls over his face in a way to bring him comfort. 

“Let’s just get over it” he says, shifting his gaze towards the ground.

Quickly you rip off the strip, trying to take him out of his pain as fast as you could.

You softly press the soothing oil pad into his blush skin, as your eyes meet Aiku’s you can tell he’s very upset.

“I’m sorry Baby, it will grow back before you know it” you say, running your hands through his hair.

“It’s fine,” Aiku says, continuously pouting.

It’s safe to say he’ll be pouting for the rest of the week. 

[redrose10]

Here is Chapter 17! There’s going to be one more little chapter that I’ll post in a day or two that is pretty much just pure fluff. But chapter 17 basically closes out this story. Thank you to everyone that has read and stuck with me through this. I know the story got a little all over the place at times, but this is the first multi chapter fic I’ve ever written and I never planned for it to go this far to be honest. I appreciate all of the comments and messages as always!

I posted a teaser for a new story that I’ll start releasing in about a week or so and I might also have this idea for a little Drabble series type thing about a relationship between Yoongi and his co-worker (Y/N) and how their relationship blossoms while he’s fulfilling his military requirements through his civil service assignment.

Yoongi X Female Reader. CEO/Arranged Marriage AU

Summary: You were selected to marry the wayward CEO/Billionaire/Heir, Min Yoongi. You went into it with an open mind and heart determined to try and make it work. Yoongi on the other hand had no intention of ever letting you in let alone allowing himself to fall in love with you. Slowly you start to associate the smell of cinnamon and vanilla with the feelings of hurt and sorrow.

Word count: 2,496

Warnings: (May get updated as chapters progress): Arranged marriage, cheating/infidelity, hints of smut (Probably won’t get very explicit but we’ll see how it goes), Sexual Assault, Brief mentions of death, Reader grew up an orphan, General Angst, Swearing

Tag list: @gimeow @kam9404 @viankiss @baechugff @gaby-93 @kayleefriedchicken @igot7fairlyoddparents @jalexad @drrookie

Your eyes kept switching between Yoongi, Mia, and Suri. Jin already looked like he’d rather be anywhere else besides sitting at this table right now. Yoongi hadn’t taken his eyes off of Mia and you weren’t sure who was enjoying it more, her or Suri. Finally after what seemed like hours Yoongi walked forward taking a seat across from Mia and you followed close behind taking a seat next to him.

Mia reached across to grab his hand and to your surprise he let her. A small blush crept across his cheeks. “Yoongles how have you been? You’re looking really good.”, she spoke making you roll your eyes at the nickname.

Your attention was pulled elsewhere when Suri suddenly called your name, “Y/N, I doubt Yoongi ever told you, but him and Mia were engaged. Unfortunately it didn’t work out. They make such a cute couple though, don’t you think?” You glared at Suri while you tried to figure out her game. She wants Yoongi so bad, but here she is gloating about what a great couple Mia and him were.

“Yoongles we should get together sometime. You know maybe get dinner or something. Then we can go back to your place and I can do that thing for you that I know you like.”, she said with a smirk running her fingers up and down his hand. Yoongi still hadn’t said anything since the two of you walked in the door. You’re not sure what came over you, but you reached over ripping his hand out of her reach and pulling it down onto your lap, “No thank you. He has a WIFE who’s more than willing to do anything and everything that he likes and more so he doesn’t need some cheating, selfish, gold digger like yourself in his life.” Everyone at the table looked at you with wide eyes and jaws dropped surprised by your little outburst. For the first time Yoongi acknowledged you by giving your hand a little squeeze.

Mia chuckled, “Oh Y/N, he really brainwashed you didn’t he? Do you think he actually cares about you let alone loves you? I heard all about it from Suri. I’m not surprised really. I mean he’s a successful, handsome, wealthy businessman and you are a poor orphan girl who will never be anything other than that. You were nothing more than a good deal to him and his family. A way to boost his image and in turn make him more money. He told me that himself.” You gasped looking to Yoongi for any sign that she was lying. When his expression didn’t change you shoved his hand out of your lap with force. Mia faked a shocked expression, “You mean you didn’t tell her Yoongi? You didn’t tell her about our little meet up a few weeks ago where you told me all about how much you couldn’t stand her and how you regretted this whole marriage?” The entire time this conversation had been taking place Suri has been off to the side reveling in watching it all. She knew bringing Mia back into the mix would be the final nail in the coffin that she needed to get you out of their life. Yoongi could never resist his first love.

You could feel the tears begin to form. You didn’t want to cry and show weakness in front of these people, but it seemed like your brain wasn’t going to cooperate. Abruptly standing up you tried to walk off towards the exit, but Yoongi grabbed your wrist begging you to stop, “Y/N please let me explain. It’s not what you think.”

The sound of the slap was probably heard through the entire building. Yoongi winced placing a hand on his reddened cheek. “Don’t ever fucking touch me again Yoongi.”, you whispered before trying to run off only to stop and turn to Suri instead realizing you had some unfinished business.

You wanted to get in her face, but decided to keep your distance reminding yourself that she was pregnant.

“Are you happy now Suri? Is this what you wanted? Look how many lives you’ve ruined and for what? You think you’re so smart and powerful, but in reality you’re an idiot who abuses others for your own personal benefit. You’ll get what’s coming to you one day.”

She stood there smiling at you for a few moments before finally speaking, “Y/N, I told you that I always get what I want and I meant it. I don’t care who or what I have to destroy to do it. I’ve had Yoongi wrapped around my finger for years and I wasn’t going to allow you to take that from me.”

“You’ve blackmailed him for years.”, you cut her off with the correction.

“So fucking what? I blackmailed him. I’ve blackmailed a lot of people. I’ve blackmailed Yoongi, Namjoon, my own brother, and countless other people and I don’t give a fuck. They all deserved it. That’s how I get shit done. Unlike you I won’t stop until I achieve my goal. I don’t just back down and let others walk all over me.”

She was somewhat out of breath after her rant was over with. You were about to respond when a very loud knock at the door stopped you.

“Good grief, it’s about time.”, Jin mumbled as he got up to let them in. Within seconds two detectives came walking over followed by two more police officers handcuffs already out.

One of the officers walked forward towards Suri, “Suri Cho, you are under arrest for the extortion of Yoongi Min, Namjoon Kim, and Han Cho. You are also being charged with making threats against Y/N Min and Mia Park. We don’t want to have to put you in handcuffs in your current condition so please come with us peacefully.”

“W-What? No absolutely not! I haven’t done anything wrong.”, she said backing herself against the wall.

“Miss Cho, please come with us.”, the officer said inching closer.

“I have not done anything wrong. You have no proof of any of these charges you are putting against me.”

From the corner of the room Jin cleared his throat. “Actually, here are transcripts of texts, voicemails, and emails between Suri and Namjoon as well as the paternity test confirming the identity of her unborn child. Here is the recording that we ourselves obtained of her confessing to blackmailing Yoongi for years.”, he said handing over everything that he had pulled out of his bag. “You guys also have the live feed that you just obtained with the help of Mia.”, Jin reminded them while zipping up his bag before throwing Suri a smug look.

“What?!”, she shouted looking over at the woman still sitting across from you.

“Did you have something to do with this? I asked you for help! How could you betray me like this?”, Suri shouted.

Mia walked over to one of the detectives and gave his cheek a kiss before turning her attention back to Suri with a smirk. She opened up her blouse slightly to reveal a microphone, “Maybe next time you want help breaking the law don’t contact and threaten someone who happens to be married to one of the top detectives in the country.”

Suri looked stunned.

“Miss Cho, it’s time to come with us.”, one of the officers repeated. Suri looked at all of you with tears of anger in her eyes before following after the officers. You felt a sudden sense of relief watching her walk out of your home.

“Well that was eventful. Thank you everyone for your hard work in orchestrating this. I didn’t realize I was surrounded by so many actors. Yoongi and Y/N I’ll be in contact as you will have to be summoned for questioning. Mia, weird seeing you again. Don’t cheat on your husband, he seems nice. Stay classy as always.”, Jin spoke before grabbing his belongings and also heading out the door.

Yoongi walked over to you wrapping an arm around your waist as you both looked over at Mia hoping she’d get the hint. Awkwardly she shuffled her feet while rubbing her arm.

“So I’m glad everything worked out. I was really worried she’d loose it. I had been ignoring her for a while thinking she’d eventually give up on this whole crazy idea, but when she came to me saying she was pregnant and that she was going to claim it wasn’t consensual I knew I had to reach out to you guys. I think she realized everything was starting to fall apart and she was getting desperate and even more delusional.”

“Uh yeah that’s why we decided to get the police involved. Originally we didn’t want to, but the longer this went on and the crazier she got we knew that simply just threatening her wouldn’t do anything.”, Yoongi responded.

“I just feel bad for the baby. That’s the only reason I didn’t want her to get arrested like this.”, you sighed.

Mia smiled, “Don’t worry. I’m sure they’ll work something out for her. Maybe house arrest or something. I’ll have my husband talk to the prosecutor.”

The air was filled with awkward silence until Mia finally started putting on her coat and heading to the door with you and Yoongi following behind to see her out.

“Maybe we could hang out some time. Go on a double date or something now that we’ve grown up and moved past what happened between us.”, she chuckled looking at Yoongi. You had a hard time reading his expression, but it looked like you could still detect a hint of admiration in his eyes as he looked at his past love. Your heart filled with sadness or maybe jealousy, you weren’t really sure.

“Listen Mia, I really appreciate everything you’ve done for us with this Suri situation and I really do thank you. But having you in my life isn’t good for me any more. I’ve spent years hating you and hating myself because of what you did to me. I tried my hardest to make Y/N hate me because I didn’t think I could ever love someone again the way I loved you. I have learned to forgive you though and I’ve finally gotten to a point where I feel that it’s okay to let go of that part of my life and move on while looking forward to the future with Y/N. So we are going to politely decline the invite and while I wish you nothing but happiness for the rest of your life, respectfully please get out of my house and I hope we never have to see each other again.”

You looked on with a shocked expression waiting for her to blow up, but instead she smiled and nodded, “I understand. Glad I could help with this though. Best of luck to you both.”

After the door closed behind her you and Yoongi walked into the kitchen so he could grab a drink. He still seemed a little shaken up. While he was sipping on his water you walked up behind and wrapped your arms around his waist.

“I love you.”, you mumbled into his back.

He chuckled before turning around to face you, “I love you too Y/N.” He leaned in to give you a kiss and you reciprocated the action. He winced a little before lightly rubbing his cheek, “I know I agreed to the slap to make it more believable, but I really didn’t think you were going to hit me as hard as you could like that.”

“I know I’m sorry. I got a little carried away, but I’ve been wanting to do that for a while. Plus Mia got me a little more heated than I thought she would when she was saying all that stuff.”, you giggled.

“Yeah something tells me that she wasn’t completely acting.”

You smiled, “Yeah well something tells me I wasn’t completely acting when I called her a selfish, cheating, gold digger either.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck to bring him closer and get a better look at his cheek, “Come here, I’ll kiss it better.”,

He smirked, “Well if that’s the case I have a few other places that are a little sore too.”

Rolling your eyes you grabbed his hand and pulled him down towards the bedroom.

After he was sat down on the bed you straddled his lap and began placing kisses along his jaw and neck, but you quickly noticed he seemed distracted. Pulling away you followed his line of sight and saw that he was staring at his dresser.

“Everything okay?”, you asked getting off of him and taking a seat on the bed instead.

He shook his head before walking over to the dresser grabbing a familiar red bottle. He popped off the top and the room immediately filled with the very familiar scent of cinnamon and vanilla. Something that you had grown to despise. A scent that at one point would make you feel sick to your stomach. Until one day it didn’t and instead it started to smell like the comfort it was advertised as.

Yoongi stared down at the bottle in his hands before he laughed, “Mia first bought me this cologne as a gift for Christmas many years ago. I was never a huge fan of it, but she would always go on and on about how much she loved it. I continued to buy it just to make her happy. Then even after we broke up I still bought it because I didn’t want to let that part of me go. I guess I thought if I kept using this cologne I could trick myself into thinking it never happened and keep that part of my life with me forever.”

He paused for a moment before scoffing to himself, “Looking back that was pretty stupid. The cologne had nothing to do with it and I was just using it to cover up my true emotions that I didn’t want to face.”

You walked over resting your head on his shoulder and began rubbing his back, “It’s not stupid Yoongi. You did what you had to do to cope. You can keep it or you can throw it away and we’ll get you something different. It’s up to you.”

He stared into your eyes before nodding and walking into the bathroom and not long after you heard a loud clank from the glass hitting the bottom of the trash can. A few seconds later he emerged with a gummy smile looking like he felt lighter and happier than he had in a while.

He walked over and placed his hands on your hips before turning you around and falling back onto the bed pulling you on top of him,

“Now Mrs. Min, where were we?”

[stardew-shitposterino]

The Bachelors and how they’d react if you asked them to start a family

Same old same old. This post is inspired by @babiebom 's post about the bachelor/ettes and how many kids they’d have :3 I’m not really a person who is too keen on children and being a housewife, but I can’t deny that the thought of a picture perfect family does warm my heart, girlies. Enjoy 💅🏻🍼

Some answers are gender specific. I hope to anyone playing the game as a same sex couple that you can look past that 🙏🏻

Sam:

-he’d be boots the house down in total shock

-don’t get it twisted, he is ecstatic, but damn he didn’t expect it to be this soon

-of course he is excited about every life stage of his potential little ones, but he can’t wait to have someone he can teach how to skate

-„really? A-and you’re not joking or anything? RAD!“

-maybe he is a bit too excited as he‘s definitely ripping his pants off his body as soon as the message sunk in

-„Oh you didn’t mean we should start it right now? Sorry my bad 😅“

Sebastian:

-he is happy but can’t really show it

-anxiety is kicking hard rn

-it’s not that he doesn’t want this, but he has so many worries, after all he had lived through himself

-he definitely needs some time to think about this

-„Y/N, I’d really love to have this with you one day, but please give me time to adjust to this. It’s a lot for me to process.“

-he will eventually open up about it and you agree on not rushing things. If you’re an opposite sex couple, you agree on starting a family once you’re pregnant. No planning, just living and if it happens, it happens (it probably happened after like 2 months after you had the talk lol)

Elliott:

-„Heavens, Love! What wonderful news. I’ve been waiting for this moment. This will be the start of our legacy!“ (excuse me bruuuhh this is how I imagine him talk lol)

-he had heart-shaped eyes if you haven’t noticed

-as much as he loves the romance and allure of being a childless couple with a world to their feet, he can’t kick the idea of being a wholesome dad raising a curious child with his wonderful partner

-he emphasises on not rushing things as he doesn’t want you to feel pressure. He knows how stressful your job is so he doesn’t want you to feel overwhelmed though you proposed that idea first

-you can bet your ass you went to bed after that talk 👀 WHO SAID THAT 🤨

Harvey:

-he is a blushy mess thank you and amen

-he‘s so anxious but also so excited

-no way you actually proposed this to him. He actually accepted his fate as a childless bachelor

-but here he is, finally getting the happy little family he always wanted

-but it isn’t smooth sailing with him, oh no. You can bet your ass he has to calculate everything through before he feels comfortable enough starting to bring this wish to reality

-you know, you earn a shit ton of money but he is anxious ok. He needs to KNOW the child won’t end up homeless with nothing to wear once it’s here

-“Oh this is all so new and, I-I don’t even know how to say it without it sounding wrong. I just can’t grasp that this is happening. Pinch me so I know I’m not dreaming”

-you didn’t sleep with each other that day but a make-out sess was in it. A wholesome one to say the least. This man is wholesome in my books 📕

Shane:

-the only thing missing here is that he fainted and fell to the floor after you popped the question

-say WHAT NOW?!

-no way. He probably heard it wrong. You didn’t just ask HIM to have YOUR children… no wait the other way around. This is what that question did to his brain lol

-or generally having kids together. He isn’t opposed to adopting because he fears the kids will inherit his messed up brain so taking in kids that are in need of a nice, welcoming home doesn’t sound bad either

-but no wait wait back to the topic; he’s a MESS

-he always wanted children and a family in general, the very boring ass white picket fence fantasy is what he longed for but kind of accepted that it’s something he cannot have. Well guess what…HE CAN

-“wait…did you- and you mean with me? Or is there someone else I should know about? Ok sorry bad joke. But you mean it?! Really? A little sibling for Jas🥹”

-just know this burly man started crying a river of joy tears. But once the tears dried and it kicked in 👀

-“ok if we want this to work out we gotta get to business 😎”

Alex:

-like Shane, he waited for this moment

-just he isn’t anxious like some of the others, he straight up jumps for joy lol

-“BABE NO WAY! I’ve been waiting for this!”

-he is a happy crier tho. Expect him to cry a little but in a good way

-but also expect him to propose the question of having a lot more kids in the future. He wants a football team of kids. But the amount is still negotiable of course (you gave him the “spouse stare” which made him go down a notch lol)

- he will babble about what gender the first kid might be, what he’d do with them depending on it and how he’d get them the smallest grid ball jerseys you’ll ever see because “LOOK THEY ARE SO TINY”

-like some of the others, he might be a bit too eager to start the baby project. Even if you can’t conceive yourself, he will live out that fantasy. You prepared yourself for this because it was very much predictable lol

[jamie-leah]

Lifeline Pt 3

Bucky x Reader

Series

Summary: You have a past that you're running from and maybe Bucky can be the lifeline you had no idea you were searching for.

Word Count: 2,037

Warnings: Descriptions of domestic abuse, mentions of death and suicide

A/N: Sorry I missed last weekend, I had a funeral to attend but here is a slightly longer part for you. I'm keeping a tag list so let me know if you want in. Requests are also open if you would like to send one in. Enjoy!

<-Previous Part Next Part->

Masterlist of Masterlists

After that day, Bucky spends more time at your apartment. In fact, he spends more time with you in general. He comes to the diner more often and any day you both have free you spend it together. You’ve kicked his ass at all the video games you have, he’s shown you all his favourite spots in New York, including a hole in the wall book shop that you stayed at for hours.  

You were at this very book shop with Bucky when he says, “so, every month at the tower we all try to stick to this family dinner thing.”  

This piques your interest. Bucky doesn’t talk about the others very often. Almost like he doesn’t want to mix you up with his drama. Like he wants to keep you away from the danger of his work. You’ve never pushed him, even though you love the stories he tells of him and Steve back in the 40s. Or the pranks he and Sam play on each other every so often.  

You never push him to talk about things he doesn’t want to because you know you have so much you can’t talk about either.  

You nod to Bucky to show that you’re listening to him, “well, there’s a family dinner tomorrow night and my therapist thinks it would be a good idea to invite you...not that I don’t want you to be there or didn’t want to ask you myself. I want you with me all the time, but I didn’t want to subject you to the chaos of everyone or Tony Stark or Natasha or Sam. Actually, you know what? Forget I said anything, this was stupid-”  

You can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of your throat, “Bucky, I’d love to go with you.”  

Bucky spins around fast, dropping the book he was holding, “you would?”  

You chuckle, picking up the book and handing it back to the idiot in front of you, “they’re your family. Plus, it would be nice to have dinner at yours for a change.”  

Bucky breaks out into a grin, grabbing you in a bear hug and twirling you around. When he sets you down, he says, “look, I have to go but I’ll pick you up around 7?”  

You nod as he races out the door to get to his therapy appointment on time, laughing as he practically skips out the door like a little kid.  

Tomorrow comes around faster than you would have liked. You feel like you’ve had no time to prepare for this dinner. You’re meeting Bucky’s family; it feels so important, and you don’t want to mess anything up.  

You still haven’t heard anything from Andrew which is a miracle and if it keeps going like this you might get to build a life here. A life that you hope involves Bucky for a long time to come. But it won’t if you mess this up tonight.  

Staring into the mirror you can see the bags under your eyes from another sleepless night. The nightmares now involving Bucky and being ripped away from this life that you’re starting to love. It always wakes you up feeling breathless and hopeless because there’s a part of you that knows Andrew will come one day and you’ll just have to leave.  

Are you being cruel? To you and to Bucky? Making you both feel so deeply for each other when you know at any moment it could fall like a house of cards? And what exactly do you feel for the man? You swore to yourself that would never get involved romantically again but with Bucky do you have a choice? Can you just be friends with someone that feels like your other half?  

Just then you hear a knock at the door, distracting you from your thoughts. You rush to the door thinking it’s Bucky coming to pick you up but when you open up your smile fades.  

A delivery man is holding a bunch of red roses, thrusting them into your hand as soon as he sees you. Your blood runs cold. You stand, staring at the flowers like they may bite you at any moment.  

When you tear your gaze away from them the delivery man is nearly at the elevator already, “hey! Wait, I didn’t see a card with them?”  

He always leaves a card. This can’t be him because he always leaves a card. The delivery man shrugs, “the guy didn’t want a card.”  

You hear the elevator ding like background noise. Your whole world comes back to the roses in your hand. Andrew picks a different flower every time so there’s no way to know and the delivery man said it was a guy that ordered the flowers. He knows. Andrew knows.  

You drop the flowers like they burn you and race into the apartment. Fight or flight kicks in and you know the dance by now. Heading straight to your room at the back of the closet is your go back. Savings you’ve put away from your job, a couple of old family photos and a passport.  

You promised yourself that if New York did not work, you would try a different country altogether, hoping he would never go that far just to teach you a lesson.  

You reach the open plan kitchen just as Bucky runs through the door looking frantic. His eyes land on you but you don’t have time to stop as you throw more supplies into your go bag.  

Bucky says, “I saw the door open and the flowers on the floor, I thought...I thought-Are you leaving?” 

You turn to look at him when you sense the feeling of betrayal behind his words. Words get caught in your throat, so you don’t say anything. You were barely holding it together before Bucky got here, but now it seems almost impossible to go with him watching. Almost.  

“I know you may not like the flowers, but this is a little extreme, right?” He goes for humour but even you can tell its strained.  

And then his meaning penetrates the fog in your brain, “you? You got the flowers?”  

Bucky shrugs, “they were supposed to arrive yesterday after you said you’d come to family dinner, but I ordered them too late, so I was hoping to beat them here and give them to you myself but well...” 

He trails off and your shoulders sag. Bucky got the flowers. The flowers were from Bucky. The go bag slips from your grip, hitting the floor with a thud, drawing Bucky’s attention once again.  

“Why? Who did you think they were from?”  

You don’t answer. How can you? The answer is so much more complicated than just a name and yet at the same time it isn’t.  

A lump forms in your throat. You want to tell him. You want so much to let someone else carry this burden with you but every time you told someone your story, they either sided with the monster or ended up dead because of him. Because of you. And you would walk away before you saw anything happen to the man standing in front of you.  

Bucky shakes his head. Walking over to pick up the flowers, he lays them on the kitchen table, “I can’t do this. I can’t be here if it means that you might leave at any moment. I’ve been left behind before and I barely made it out alive. I can’t go through that again.”  

And your heart aches. It aches so much that you don’t know how you remain standing as you watch the only person that’s ever made you feel safe start to walk out the door.  

If you were less selfish, you would let Bucky walk out that door and never come back. You would leave him behind and leave New York. You would be miserable just to keep him safe. But you can’t. And you don’t.  

“The first time he hit me, it was our honeymoon.”  

Bucky stops dead. He doesn’t turn around, but you take it as your cue to keep talking, “this guy at a bar flirted with me. He gave me his best pick up line, I laughed and told him I was flattered but I was married, and the guy left me alone. Andrew, my husband, saw and challenged me on it in our hotel room. 

I laughed and told him to stop being silly and that I had seen him flirt with other women before too. It was the first and last time he hit me with an open palm. I made excuses for him. I didn’t want to admit that I cut all my friends and family off for a monster. He was all I had left. But after a few years, when he was dishonourably discharged from the Army, I spoke to his closest friend, Tommy. Tommy was a good man. I showed him the bruises and he believed me. After all these years, he was the only person to believe me.  

Tommy had sensed a change in Andrew, he became less bothered about hiding his temper when the Army chewed him up and spat him out. Tommy confronted him. A week later, Tommy went missing. Three months after that his body was found in the woods. Suicide they said.”  

Bucky finally turns to face you, his eyes swimming with anger and pain so much like your own that you have to look away. You stare at your hands instead, “after Tommy was gone, Andrew got worse. I was going to the hospital at least once a month and everyone believed all the lies. It got so bad that I once went to the police. They called Andrew and he told them that I wasn’t doing very well, and they believed him. After that incident I ended up in the hospital for six weeks. He told them I fell from the roof.”  

Bucky lets out a string of curse words that have you smiling despite the circumstances, “How did you get away?” 

“I got a job. In secret of course. I arranged it so I would only work when he did, and I worked in the next town over. I saved and saved and saved. And then one night I put sleeping pills in with his food. Once I was sure he was asleep, I took the car and left in the middle of the night. I ditched it the next morning and walked to a bus station.”  

“But he still finds you?” Bucky asks.  

You nod, “I haven’t been able to stay in a place longer than two months before he sends flowers and a card to wherever I’m staying at the time. It’s almost like he’s enjoying playing cat and mouse. He’s letting the game go on because I know the moment he catches me this time, I’ll be dead.”  

Bucky takes a step towards you, “no. I’m not going to let that happen.”  

“Tommy said the same thing.”  

“Yeah, well, Tommy wasn’t a super soldier.”  

“But he was a soldier.”  

Bucky shakes his head, “it's been longer than two months. Maybe he’s given up. Found someone else or got what’s coming to him from someone else.”  

“Maybe”, you whisper.  

Bucky closes the distance between you, pulling you into the warmth of his body, holding you like it's a miracle you’re still standing, “you can’t keep running. I won’t let you. Why should you have to run because that waste of oxygen can’t keep his hands to himself?”  

You don’t have an answer, so you just cling to him tighter. Bucky pulls back to look down at you, “promise me, you’ll come to me first. Come to me before you run.”  

You shake your head, “that’s just your way of asking me to stay.”  

“So, what if it is? I deal with bad people and monsters all the time. Let me help you with yours? Come to me first, please?”  

And despite your better judgement, despite all the promises you made to yourself, you tell Bucky yes. You tell him that you’ll stay. You just hope you’re not sealing both of your fates because of it.  

Tags: @ordelixx @cjand10 @identity2212 @sukaibg

[rubystatic]

Asking For Trouble

I wasn't sure what to write for my first post here. I haven't written for Hazbin Hotel before, but I figured what better introduction to the fandom than a literal introduction between Alastor and the reader? I've had this scene rattling around in my head for a few weeks, so I hope you enjoy it.

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Contents: demonic summoning, Alastor being an eldritch horror, hints of gore, blood, minor self-injury (not sh)

The red paint glistens like fresh blood in the light of the candles. A dozen or more of them, scattered around your living room, resting atop the coffee table, the TV stand, melted onto the top of the bookcase and the windowsill. Thick, black candles you bought from the Halloween clearance sale at the local big box store. You don’t think colour matters, but it felt right for the occasion. If you’re going to do this, you might as well do it right. 

A clear space dominates the centre of the room—all the furniture has been pushed aside, crowding up against the walls to make room. You’ve rolled up the living room rug and propped it against the stairs. 

When you first moved into your basement apartment, you were dismayed to discover that it had a poured concrete floor, and that the landlord hadn’t bothered to put in carpet or laminate or even cheap lino. However, beggars couldn’t be choosers, and the rent price was such a steal, you didn’t dare question him on it in case he decided he wanted a less whiny tenant. 

You have reason to be grateful for it now, though. A red pentagram painted on a wooden floor or carpet would be a quick way to make sure you never got back your security deposit. A bit of turpentine and it’ll be like this never happened. 

Assuming that you’re still alive. If this even works.

The thing that started it all, a simple black notebook—some Moleskine rip-off—sits open at the edge of your circle, along with a whole mess of measuring implements. A simple protractor wasn’t good enough for something like this. You’d had to buy some stuff off the internet, and now your Amazon recommendations looked like a geometry professor’s wet dream. 

And there I was, thinking 10th grade math would never get me anywhere in the real world. 

You pick up the notebook, glancing between the scrawled diagrams and measurements and your own summoning circle. It looks right. It had better be, since you spent all afternoon hunched over, painting it with dollar store acrylic paints. Oh, and your life depends on it. Can’t forget that much. 

The notebook is a journal of sorts. You found it behind the bookcase when you first moved in, wedged there and forgotten. The pages are covered in the feverish scrawl of a previous resident. At first you felt a little weird about reading it, but curiosity overcame any moral quandary you had in the end. 

The journal outlines the three month period it took for a young writer to seemingly descend into madness as his work was rejected, over and over. As his girlfriend left him, his father died, and his life fell to pieces. He became more and more desperate, his writing growing erratic. His writing research had already led him down some occult paths, but it seemed he’d decided to pursue them even further.

Which was you’ve come to be kneeling on your living room floor, trying to summon a demon.

Taking a deep breath, you flip to the last page, where the invocation is written, the pen almost tearing through the paper in some places. It’s the last entry. 

You reach out, and use your fingertips to push a plate of venison over the boundary line, into the centre of the pentagram. The meat is a dark, pinkish red, practically pulsing with blood and vitality, as the journal instructs. 

Getting it necessitated a trip outside city limits to a questionable butcher in the countryside who specialised in game meat. The journal is very clear—it has to be fresh. Supermarket meat won’t cut it.

Everything is in place. There’s nothing left to do but begin.

You take a deep breath, your hands trembling slightly as you lift the journal, holding it open. You have a strange feeling of duality, that you’re both at once powerful and ridiculous. Someone tearing open the veil between worlds to seek higher (or lower) power, and someone playing pretend. 

You force yourself to ignore the latter, pushing it aside and holding onto the image that what you’re doing is going to work. Faith is important, even if it isn’t invested wisely. 

“Let—”

Oh, shit, you’ve forgotten a step. 

Dropping the journal in your haste, you reach for the small pen knife lying at the edge of the circle. Gritting your teeth, you tighten your grip on the wooden handle, and make a small cut on the side of your thumb. Holding your fist out over the circle, you let a few beads of blood, looking almost black in the candle light, splatter the venison. 

You open a bandaid and slap it over the cut, pleased you haven’t completely sliced your palm open like they do in movies. Don’t they know how long that takes to heal? 

Anyway, back to the demon summoning. 

“Let this offering of flesh and blood open the veil between the earthly realm and the depths of Hell,” you read aloud, your voice becoming stronger with every word.

No wonder that writer guy couldn’t get his shit published if this is how he wrote everything. Despite the stilted prose, you keep reciting it aloud, just glad it’s not in Latin, or worse, rhyming. 

“I summon you, o’ Deal Maker, Keeper of Bargains, Purchaser of Souls—” 

Seriously? Writer of Bullshit, more like. 

“I summon you, Alastor!” 

You hold your breath as the last echoes of your voice fade from the walls, waiting for something to happen. The candles continue to flicker gently, and you can hear the muted hubbub of voices from your neighbour’s TV upstairs. Your knees are starting to hurt from sitting on the floor. 

Sighing, you let the journal drop to the floor. It hasn’t worked. Of course.

Why did you think this was going to work? Summoning a demon of all things—

The candles ripple as if stirred by a breath, then their flames spike upwards, rigid. The light throws shadows across the walls, but the shadows don’t move in the right way. They sway back and forth, almost in a trance, as if the room is tilting side to side. 

The candle flames stretch up and up, thinning out into streamers. The golden glow dims, before blooming a bright, venal red. Your ears fill with the sound of static as the painted lines of the summoning circle begin to glow crimson. Smoke boils up from the centre into a plume of pulsing fog, backlit by the red light and twitching shadows. 

Something very old, buried and half-forgotten in your DNA screams at you to run, but you’re frozen to the spot, gaping as a figure takes form within the smoke. A tall, thin silhouette, long limbs distorted. Ice seeps into your gut.

The smoke clears, leaving an apparition, a demon, in your living room. It is not the monster you expected. No red skin, no black pits for eyes, no fire and brimstone… But whatever he is, he’s definitely not human. 

Stretching from floor to ceiling, he must be seven feet tall or more, with a thin, attenuated form and an inhumanly narrow waist. The demon is a vision in red, from his hair to his suit to his eyes, red on red, his pupils black slits in a sea of glowing crimson. 

It’s his smile that truly terrifies you, though. 

His teeth gleaming, the colour of aged ivory. Two rows of sharp, dagger-like points, ready to sink into flesh, designed to rend and tear. Whatever this creature is, death sustains him. 

Red hair, tipped in black, frames his face in a short bob, and tufts up at the top in what you think might be ears. Two small, black antlers jut from the top of his head. 

The static in  your ears crescendos like a wave crashing over your head, and the demon’s smile widens. He hums to himself, his voice a crackle, and looks around your meagre apartment. Finally, his gaze comes to rest back on you, the most interesting thing here.

“My, my,” he says, a strange, Transatlantic twang to his voice, “it’s been a while since someone summoned me. You really know how to set the mood, don’t you? Summoning circle, candles, and what’s this?” 

He leans down to pick up the plate of venison. Your blood has seeped into the meat by now, indistinguishable from the dead deer’s blood. The demon uses his gloved hand to pick up a morsel of the meat, his red eyes widening in pleasure, before popping it into his mouth like an hors d'oeuvre. 

“Delicious,” he praises. “Not a bit of fat on it, either. How did you know venison is my favourite?”

Before you can answer, his gaze lights upon the abandoned journal. He lets out a chuckle that’s half radio static. 

“Oh, that old thing. I should have known!” He slaps his knee in an over-the-top display of amusement. “You’re all so eager to throw yourselves into the Abyss! Humans, lemmings, what’s the difference?!”

The demon pretended to wipe a tear of mirth from his eye, before finally paying attention to you again. His grin cranked up a notch, practically splitting his face in half, and his hooded red eyes gleamed at you. 

“I haven’t introduced myself. How remiss of me. The name’s Alastor. A pleasure to meet you, my dear.”

The static in his voice fuzzed out, leaving behind a raspy baritone.

“Now, what can I do for you, darling?”

[letstalktea]

Content: GN!Alpha!Harper x GN!Omega!Reader, doctor and patient are both playing a game here, dildo, fingering, Harper has many thoughts

Note: Blame Pip. I saw Harper and omega in the same sentence, blacked out, and this fic was written.

Word Count: 2.5k

“And what's the nature of your visit today?” Harper asked as they wiggled the mouse of their computer to awaken the screen and pull up your file.

You squirmed in your seat, shifting back and forth in such a way that they knew the fabric of your underwear must have been rubbing against your hole. “My suppressants aren't working.”

“Again?” They feigned shock, but they could tell. Your sweet, submissive scent was flooding their office and it took all of their self-control and barely maintained professionalism not to flip you onto the nearby examination table and hump your leaking hole until they had you thoroughly bred. Clearly they needed to replace their suppressants as much as you did. “I distinctly recall informing you that you were likely suppressant resistant several visits ago so you could be aware and take the proper steps to manage yourself before it became severe enough to visit.”

They typed your reason for visiting into the notes section of your profile, glancing at you only briefly to enjoy the sight of you trying to stop yourself from grinding down against the chair where you sat. 

“How long since the start of your current cycle?” Harper asked.

“Two days.”

They typed your answer before continuing to ask more questions. “Have you had sex with anyone in those two days?”

They watched you closely. They way you bit the inside of your lip told them the answer wasn't affirmative and that you were hesitant to divulge such information.

“We've had this conversation before. If your suppressants aren't working, you should find an alpha to help ease your symptoms.” That is, an alpha who was willing to fuck your desperate hole and flood your body with enough cum to reset your brain and hormones.

“I don’t…” you muttered, “I don’t have an alpha I trust like that.”

“None?”

“The only person I trust is a beta, but… I don’t like them like that.”

“Attraction is irrelevant when it comes to a single sexual encounter for the sake of managing your symptoms.” They sighed as they leaned back in their chair. They took the glasses off of their face and held the bridge of their nose in exasperation. “But you’re right. Even if you were to sleep with a beta, it wouldn’t produce the right endorphins and your symptoms would only worsen. That won’t be sufficient.” 

“Can't we change my suppressants instead? Or up the dosage on my current ones?”

They raised an eyebrow before putting their glasses back on their face and changing which section of your profile they were viewing. They turned the screen around so you could see the laundry list of medications and shots you'd taken over the years to try and manage your heats. Each one with a corresponding note about how long it had lasted and why you had been taken off of it; tolerances, unforeseen side effects, ineffectiveness, the list went on.

“We're running out of alternative options for you to try.”

You looked uncomfortable as you fidgeted in your seat, clearly still rubbing yourself against the hard plastic more noticeably than earlier. “Isn’t there anything we can do?”

Your scent had spread through the entire office, clinging onto every surface and waving the promise of a warm, wet hole at any alpha who would happen to catch your fancy (or any whose fancy you caught by mistake). Their fingers were practically twitching as the instincts in the back of their head growled to claim the omega seated in front of them; rip your clothing to shreds and leave you spread on the floor with their cum dripping out of your bite-ridden body. Their suppressants prevented them from entering rut, but that did not make them sexless. They could still appreciate the aroma of an omega flaunting their heat.

“There is one other method we could try,” they said, trying to hide the thin smile creeping across their face.”It was used some time ago and has fallen out of favor since the introduction of suppressants and medication, but it may be the best option for you.”

Your eyes lit up and Harper had to swallow the drool pooling in their throat.

“Some time ago, doctors used to personally see to omega in heat and help them find relief.” That was to say, an omega in heat would strip down and spread their legs so they could be touched and fondled until their libido calmed down. “That method may work for you since everything else has failed.”

They didn't fail to notice the flicker in your eyes, though they couldn't identify what emotion it was you were experiencing. “Are you sure?”

“We can only try.” 

They stood from their seat and sauntered over to the box where gowns were kept, pulling one out and handing it to you. “Remove all of your clothing, change into this, then take a seat on the examination table. I need to grab something to help with your treatment then I'll return.”

Harper walked out of the room before you even stood from the chair. 

You stared at the gown in your hands. Cheap blue fabric that felt more like plastic than cloth and looked like a backwards robe. You removed your clothing, taking special care as you peeled the drenched fabric of your underwear away from your hole. You placed your clothing on the chair where you’d been sitting, placing the damp underwear on top before slipping your arms through the holes of the gown and struggling to tie the strings in the back before giving up after the first one.

With your new dressings, you finally took a seat on the examination table. A mild chill ran up your spine as your skin made contact with the cold surface, but you slowly eased into the spot.

Then, you waited.

By the time Harper came back into the office, you had started to worry that they’d given up on you and were trying to think of ways to tell you that your case was hopeless. Instead, they came in with a small bag in their hands that they sat on the floor beside the examination table before rolling their seat over to you.

They didn’t sit just yet. Instead, they bent down to reach into the bag before handing you some kind of handkerchief. “This has been doused in alpha pheromone. You may find it alieving during your treatment.”

You took the cloth from their hand, staring at it before looking back to them. “What do I do with it?”

“Generally, omega used to find comfort in huffing it, but I don’t think it matters what you choose to do with it.” They finally took a seat and settled at the foot of the table. As they gave their next directions, they began to slip on a set of purple gloves. “Lie back, bend your knees, and spread your legs.”

Your face felt hot at their request. “Really?”

They looked up at you impassively. “It’s part of the treatment.”

So, you did as they said. You lied back, bent your knees, and spread your legs wide enough that you could feel the cool air of the conditioner blow across your exposed hole. You also knew that Harper was looking at you, staring at how much slick was leaking out without having been touched, all because of your heat. You couldn’t see them, but you knew they were there.

The handkerchief still in your hand made you curious. They said it was used by omega for relief, but you couldn’t imagine how. Tentatively, you brought it under your nose and gave a small sniff. Immediately, something inside of you, something you didn't even know was there, snapped.

Harper couldn’t see your face any more easily than you could see theirs, but they knew by the sound of your sniffing that you had finally used the cloth. They could also tell what kind of effect it was having on your body by the way your hole began to gush in front of them.

Such a good little omega. You made them glad that they'd taken the time to cum on that handkerchief before handing it to you. Now they could enjoy the fact that you were inhaling their scent like a drug while they were stuck satisfying your heat without any relief for themselves.

How had you managed to make their office smell even more like you than it already had? Now it smelled of you and sex. Not the act of sex, but the desire for it.

They dragged a single gloved finger through the slick dripping down your thighs. The small surprised jolt you made before settling down again caught them off guard, but they weren't deterred from moving their fingers to press against your hole. You were already so wet that they faced little resistance as they pushed them in to the first knuckle.

“Alpha?” You cried out, voice muffled by the handkerchief that you had pressed tightly against your face.

“Stay calm. I'm only doing the preparations.” 

Those words weren't for you. Harper had to remind themselves that you were their patient in this moment. Even though you were a dumb omega that had flaunted your heat and inviting hole directly in front of them, it was their job to cure you. Although, the thought of leaving you to suffer through it until you went mad was equally appealing. Maybe you'd go hysterical and they could commit you to their waiting embrace. It was something to consider.

For now, however, they were left salivating at the sight of your body swallowing up the second finger they slipped beside the first. Such a good omega, accepting them so easily.

They pretended to ignore the small whimpers you made as they pulled their fingers out so they could reach down into the bag on the floor. Instead, they tried to focus on what kinds of sounds you'd make once you realized what kind of treatment you were really getting.

You were still huffing the cloth that smelled strongly of alpha when Harper began to pull their fingers away. Your body chased after them, lifting and rolling back to try and plunge them back inside. Unfortunately, you weren't lying at the right angle to succeed, so all you could do was continue to lie there and indulge in the scent of alpha flooding your head.

Your poor hole felt lonely and neglected in the time before Harper returned. This time, however, it wasn't their fingers pushing into you. It was something much thicker, smoother, colder than their fingers, and it was prying your hole open one inch at a time until it couldn't go any deeper. Then, they began to pull it out halfway before pushing it in again. The pace was slow and rhythmic as the object slid in and out of your hole, guided by Harper's steady hand.

And what a greedy hole you had. It opened up and accepted the phallus so easily. Harper barely needed to coax your body more than the basic prep required. Clearly, you had been suffering during your heat if you needed to be fucked so badly that you accepted the first dick offered to you. Given enough time, maybe you could be convinced to finally allow yourself to be touched and fondled by any alpha that liked your sweet smell and then share all the vivid details of your entanglements at your appointments.

They couldn't help but notice the quiet grunts and groans you made as they fucked you with the toy in their hand, nor could they ignore how you were starting to hump against it.

“Alpha… alpha…” You muttered from behind the cloth soaked in their scent.

“That's right. Just think of me as your alpha,” they said, trying to ignore how turned on they were by the thought of you calling out for them.

They wanted to see your face, to see what pleasure looked like when you were in its midst. They wanted to yank the toy they were using out of you and replace it with their own dick. They wanted to be enveloped by your warm walls and greedy hole until your cry for an alpha was replaced with their name and your body couldn't calm down without them. They wanted to cum so deep inside of you, empty so much that it would distend your belly and show them what you'd look like once their seed managed to catch and you grew a child inside. They wanted to grab you by the neck and bite down until their mark was impeded into your very DNA.

But they shook those thoughts off, chalking them up to instinct rather than rational thought.

Their only involvement in this treatment was to endure the sweet scent of your desperate hole while ensuring you came for– because of them.

“More! Alpha! Fuck me more!” You screamed as they watched your hole clench down around the toy.

A stray thought slipped out subconsciously before they could contain it. “Are you about to cum? What a good little omega.”

The screech that came out of your mouth as they slammed the dildo to the base inside of you was like its own siren song; arousal and satisfaction made into its own sound as you came so violently around the toy that you managed to squeeze it out and let it fall to the floor despite how deeply they'd lodged it.

Again, Harper had to push the effectiveness of their own suppressants to their limits, pushing aside the way they were starting to strain against their stacks. It wouldn't be right of them to lap up the arousal still dripping from your recently abused hole and caked across your inner thighs.

They let you lie there in silence for a few moments longer to catch your breath and so they could calm themselves down. It felt like hours passed in the small office, staring between your legs and drowning in a scent so powerful that it pushed all their rationality aside.

“How do you feel?” Harper finally asked once they were no longer comfortable with the silence.

You sat up slowly. “Better.”

They removed their gloves. “And your heat?”

You paused, seeming to take account of yourself before answering. “I feel like it's calmed down.”

“Then I believe we can say the treatment was a success.” They rolled back in their chair to the computer, wiggling the mouse and typing something into your file. “Unfortunately, this form of treatment is only temporary. I would like to see you again next week to continue it.”

My omega.

“Really?”

“It's best for your health, since suppressants don't work to control your heat. As I said, this method is much older, but it appears to be effective at the moment.”

You seemed to turn their recommendation over in your head a few times before nodding in agreement. “I understand.”

“If we find an alternative method that proves to be more efficient, we can switch to that later.”

Not that they would be looking for one.

“Whatever you think is best, since suppressants aren't working.”

Although, maybe they would if you bothered to take them in the first place.