#week after that we have a lot of visitors

[summerhighlandfalls]

2mltrow is my last relative day of normalcy

[small-system-culture-is]

small system culture is thinking you were big at first but finding out that you're actually quite small (+ some fragments)

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[mostlysignssomeportents]

The majority of censorship is self-censorship

I'm on tour with my new novel The Bezzle! Catch me TONIGHT in SAN DIEGO (Feb 22, Mysterious Galaxy). After that, it's LA (Saturday night, with Adam Conover), Seattle (Monday, with Neal Stephenson), then Portland, Phoenix and more!

I know a lot of polymaths, but Ada Palmer takes the cake: brilliant science fiction writer, brilliant historian, brilliant librettist, brilliant singer, and then some:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/02/10/monopoly-begets-monopoly/#terra-ignota

Palmer is a friend and a colleague. In 2018, she, Adrian Johns and I collaborated on "Censorship, Information Control, & Information Revolutions from Printing Press to Internet," a series of grad seminars at the U Chicago History department (where Ada is a tenured prof, specializing in the Inquisition and Renaissance forbidden knowledge):

https://ifk.uchicago.edu/research/faculty-fellow-projects/censorship-information-control-information-revolutions-from-printing-press/

The project had its origins in a party game that Ada and I used to play at SF conventions: Ada would describe a way that the Inquisitions' censors attacked the printing press, and I'd find an extremely parallel maneuver from governments, the entertainment industry or other entities from the much more recent history of internet censorship battles.

With the seminars, we took it to the next level. Each 3h long session featured a roster of speakers from many disciplines, explaining everything from how encryption works to how white nationalists who were radicalized in Vietnam formed an armored-car robbery gang to finance modems and Apple ][+s to link up neo-Nazis across the USA.

We borrowed the structure of these sessions from science fiction conventions, home to a very specific kind of panel that doesn't always work, but when it does, it's fantastic. It was a natural choice: after all, Ada and I know each other through science fiction.

Even if you're not an sf person, you've probably heard of the Hugo Awards, the most prestigious awards in the field, voted on each year by attendees of the annual World Science Fiction Convention (Worldcon). And even if you're not an sf fan, you might have heard about a scandal involving the Hugo Awards, which were held last year in China, a first:

https://www.nbcnews.com/news/world/science-fiction-authors-excluded-hugo-awards-china-rcna139134

A little background: each year's Worldcon is run by a committee of volunteers. These volunteers put together bids to host the Worldcon, and canvass Worldcon attendees to vote in favor of their bid. For many years, a group of Chinese fans attempted to field a successful bid to host a Worldcon, and, eventually, they won.

At the time, there were many concerns: about traveling to a country with a poor human rights record and a reputation for censorship, and about the logistics of customary Worldcon attendees getting visas. During this debate, many international fans pointed to the poor human rights record in the USA (which has hosted the vast majority of Worldcons since their inception), and the absolute ghastly rigmarole the US government subjects many foreign visitors to when they seek visas to come to the US for conventions.

Whatever side of this debate you came down on, it couldn't be denied that the Chinese Worldcon rang a lot of alarm-bells. Communications were spotty, and then the con was unceremoniously rescheduled for months after the original scheduled date, without any good explanation. Rumors swirled of Chinese petty officials muscling their way into the con's administration.

But the real alarm bells started clanging after the Hugo Award ceremony. Normally, after the Hugos are given out, attendees are given paper handouts tallying the nominations and votes, and those numbers are also simultaneously published online. Technically, the Hugo committee has a grace period of some weeks before this data must be published, but at every Worldcon I've attended over the past 30+ years, I left the Hugos with a data-sheet in my hand.

Then, in early December, at the very last moment, the Hugo committee released its data – and all hell broke loose. Numerous, acclaimed works had been unilaterally "disqualified" from the ballot. Many of these were written by writers from the Chinese diaspora, but some works – like an episode of Neil Gaiman's Sandman – were seemingly unconnected to any national considerations.

Readers and writers erupted in outrage, demanding to know what had happened. The Hugo administrators – Americans and Canadians who'd volunteered in those roles for many years and were widely viewed as being members in good standing of the community – were either silent or responded with rude and insulting remarks. One thing they didn't do was explain themselves.

The absence of facts left a void that rumors and speculation rushed in to fill. Stories of Chinese official censorship swirled online, and along with them, a kind of I-told-you-so: China should never have been home to a Worldcon, the country's authoritarian national politics are fundamentally incompatible with a literary festival.

As the outrage mounted and the scandal breached from the confines of science fiction fans and writers to the wider world, more details kept emerging. A damning set of internal leaks revealed that it was those long-serving American and Canadian volunteers who decided to censor the ballot. They did so out of a vague sense that the Chinese state would visit some unspecified sanction on the con if politically unpalatable works appeared on the Hugo ballot. Incredibly, they even compiled clumsy dossiers on nominees, disqualifying one nominee out of a mistaken belief that he had once visited Tibet (it was actually Nepal).

There's no evidence that the Chinese state asked these people to do this. Likewise, it wasn't pressure from the Chinese state that caused them to throw out hundreds of ballots cast by Chinese fans, whom they believed were voting for a "slate" of works (it's not clear if this is the case, but slate voting is permitted under Hugo rules).

All this has raised many questions about the future of the Hugo Awards, and the status of the awards that were given in China. There's widespread concern that Chinese fans involved with the con may face state retaliation due to the negative press that these shenanigans stirred up.

But there's also a lot of questions about censorship, and the nature of both state and private censorship, and the relationship between the two. These are questions that Ada is extremely well-poised to answer; indeed, they're the subject of her book-in-progress, entitled Why We Censor: from the Inquisition to the Internet.

In a magisterial essay for Reactor, Palmer stakes out her central thesis: "The majority of censorship is self-censorship, but the majority of self-censorship is intentionally cultivated by an outside power":

https://reactormag.com/tools-for-thinking-about-censorship/

States – even very powerful states – that wish to censor lack the resources to accomplish totalizing censorship of the sort depicted in Nineteen Eighty-Four. They can't go from house to house, searching every nook and cranny for copies of forbidden literature. The only way to kill an idea is to stop people from expressing it in the first place. Convincing people to censor themselves is, "dollar for dollar and man-hour for man-hour, much cheaper and more impactful than anything else a censorious regime can do."

Ada invokes examples modern and ancient, including from her own area of specialty, the Inquisition and its treatment of Gailileo. The Inquistions didn't set out to silence Galileo. If that had been its objective, it could have just assassinated him. This was cheap, easy and reliable! Instead, the Inquisition persecuted Galileo, in a very high-profile manner, making him and his ideas far more famous.

But this isn't some early example of Inquisitorial Streisand Effect. The point of persecuting Galileo was to convince Descartes to self-censor, which he did. He took his manuscript back from the publisher and cut the sections the Inquisition was likely to find offensive. It wasn't just Descartes: "thousands of other major thinkers of the time wrote differently, spoke differently, chose different projects, and passed different ideas on to the next century because they self-censored after the Galileo trial."

This is direct self-censorship, where people are frightened into silencing themselves. But there's another form of censorship, which Ada calls "middlemen censorship." That's when someone other than the government censors a work because they fear what the government would do if they didn't. Think of Scholastic's cowardly decision to pull inclusive, LGBTQ books out of its book fair selections even though no one had ordered them to do so:

https://www.nytimes.com/2023/05/06/books/scholastic-book-racism-maggie-tokuda-hall.html

This is a form of censorship outsourcing, and it "multiplies the manpower of a censorship system by the number of individuals within its power." The censoring body doesn't need to hire people to search everyone's houses for offensive books – it can frighten editors, publishers, distributors, booksellers and librarians into suppressing the books in the first place.

This outsourcing blurs the line between state and private surveillance. Think about comics. After a series of high-profile Congressional hearings about the supposed danger of comics to impressionable young minds, the comics industry undertook a regime of self-censorship, through which the private Comics Code Authority would vet comings for "dangerous" content before allowing its seal of approval to appear on the comics' covers. Distributors and retailers refused to carry books without a CCA stamp, so publishers refused to publish books unless they could get a CCA stamp.

The CCA was unaccountable, capricious – and racist. By the 60s and 70s, it became clear that comic about Black characters were subjected to much tighter scrutiny than comics featuring white heroes. The CCA would reject "a drop of sweat on the forehead of a Black astronaut as 'too graphic' since it 'could be mistaken for blood.'" Every comic that got sent back by the CCA meant long, brutal reworkings by writers and illustrators to get them past the censors.

The US government never censored heroes like Black Panther, but the chain of events that created the CCA "middleman censors" made sure that Black Panther appeared in far fewer comics starring Marvel's most prominent Black character. An analysis of censorship that tries to draw a line between private and public censorship would say that the government played no role in Black Panther's banishment to obscurity – but without Congressional action, Black Panther would never have faced censorship.

This is why attempts to cleanly divide public and private censorship always break down. Many people will tell you that when Twitter or Facebook blocks content they disagree with, that's not censorship, since censorship is government action, and these are private actors. What they mean is that Twitter and Facebook censorship doesn't violate the First Amendment, but it's perfectly possible to infringe on free speech without violating the US Constitution. What's more, if the government fails to prevent monopolization of our speech forums – like social media – and also declines to offer its own public speech forums that are bound to respect the First Amendment, we can end up with government choices that produce an environment in which some ideas are suppressed wherever they might find an audience – all without violating the Constitution:

https://locusmag.com/2020/01/cory-doctorow-inaction-is-a-form-of-action/

The great censorious regimes of the past – the USSR, the Inquisition – left behind vast troves of bureaucratic records, and these records are full of complaints about the censors' lack of resources. They didn't have the manpower, the office space, the money or the power to erase the ideas they were ordered to suppress. As Ada notes, "In the period that Spain’s Inquisition was wildly out of Rome’s control, the Roman Inquisition even printed manuals to guide its Inquisitors on how to bluff their way through pretending they were on top of what Spain was doing!"

Censors have always done – and still do – their work not by wielding power, but by projecting it. Even the most powerful state actors are not powerful enough to truly censor, in the sense of confiscating every work expressing an idea and punishing everyone who creates such a work. Instead, when they rely on self-censorship, both by individuals and by intermediaries. When censors act to block one work and not another, or when they punish one transgressor while another is free to speak, it's tempting to think that they are following some arcane ruleset that defines when enforcement is strict and when it's weak. But the truth is, they censor erratically because they are too weak to censor comprehensively.

Spectacular acts of censorship and punishment are a performance, "to change the way people act and think." Censors "seek out actions that can cause the maximum number of people to notice and feel their presence, with a minimum of expense and manpower."

The censor can only succeed by convincing us to do their work for them. That's why drawing a line between state censorship and private censorship is such a misleading exercise. Censorship is, and always has been, a public-private partnership.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/22/self-censorship/#hugos

[golden-cherry]

deal - cl16 (23/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: There's nothing sweeter than unexpected visitors.

Warnings: 18+ (just be prepared for some words), fluff (like a lot), Pascale is the sweetest thing on this planet, teeny tiny bit of angst

Word Count: 3.2k

series masterlist

previous part

A/N: hello everyone! I hope you all are doing okay after the Ferrari-Carlos-Lewis thing, because I'm still in denial. this is mostly fluff, because I couldn't manage you dealing with more bad stuff this week. love you! feedback is appreciated!

Before you can say anything or even react, the blonde woman lets go of your hands and snatches one of the magazines lying on the coffee table in front of you. She rolls it up with her slender fingers before smacking Charles across the back of the head. 

"Maman!" he exclaims angrily, rubbing his head. "What are you doing? Are you crazy?"

The woman holds the magazine under his chin so that the Monegasque has no choice but to look her in the eye and return her stare. "That's no way to talk to your mother." She puts the magazine back in its rightful place before turning to you again. "Try again, chéri."

Your friend has to hold back a grin before he spreads his arms out and hugs his mother. "Good morning, Maman. It's really good to see you."

"It's good to see you too, mon chéri," she replies lovingly, stroking his broad back once with her hand before releasing herself from the tight embrace. She puts her hands to his cheeks to study his face. "I didn't know you were back home."

Charles tilts his head, his mouth forming a thin line. "I'm sorry I didn't let you know," he replies meekly, taking her hands from his cheeks so that he can press a gentle kiss to her knuckles. "I've had a lot on my mind."

"I can see that." She pulls her hands from his and then turns to face you. When she looks at you, you stiffen. All of a sudden, you feel as if you're naked in Charles' clothes, she's looking at you so piercingly. "I'm sorry I haven't introduced myself properly yet. I'm not usually as rude as my son." Charles rolls his eyes as her smile is affectionate and gentle. Then she wraps you in a hug that is careful, but firm nonetheless. It's a good hug. "I am Pascale. It's nice to meet you."

"Likewise." After you've also introduced yourself, you return her smile. 

"Now that you two have met," Charles interrupts your conversation. "How do we come to be honored with your company, Maman?"

As if it was her own home, her own four walls, Pascale leaves the hallway and goes into the kitchen, where she grabs a cup and makes herself an espresso at the coffee machine. Like two lost puppies, the two of you follow the beautiful woman. "I was called in tears last night." When the loud buzzing of the machine stops, she takes a sip of her coffee before placing it on the countertop. "Can someone explain that to me?" With her eyes glued to her son like an annoying price sticker on a new plate, you're off the hook. 

"I didn't think she'd call you."

She?

"And I didn't think you'd just kick her out of the apartment without giving her some warning," Pascale replies sharply, raising an eyebrow to show her disapproval of Charles' behavior. "She called me in the middle of the night, upset with you and crying bitterly because you kicked her out of the apartment with a simple text message."

Something flashes in your mind. When you followed Charles back to the bedroom last night, he was typing away on his cell phone. And when you told him that he'd be crazy if you went with him to the apartment where his ex still lives, he assured you that she wouldn't be there. 

You didn't expect him to just throw Annika out of the apartment so that you would have a safe place where Raphael couldn't harm you.

"Maman." Charles raises his hands placatingly. "It wasn't like that."

"So you didn't send her a text message telling her to pack her things and leave within thirty minutes?" When Charles doesn't reply, but simply stares at his mother open-mouthed, she runs her fingers through her hair in bewilderment. "I didn't bring you up like that. Have you completely lost your mind?"

"Maman -"

"No 'Maman'." Judging by the look on her face, she would like to hit him over the head with the magazine again. "Do you know what the consequences could be?"

"Maman -"

"She could go public with it!"

"Maman -"

"And - and damage your reputation! She could -"

"Maman!" Charles almost shouts at his mother to break out of her mental spiral. She looks angrily at her son, who takes a small step towards her. He lowers his hands. "Annika cheated on me."

As if all the air had escaped her body, Pascale plops down on the chair where you were eating pancakes just a few minutes ago. She puts her face in her hands and takes a deep breath before looking at her son again. She tries to blink away the tears in her eyes. "Is there anything I can do for you, mon chéri?"

Without answering, Charles closes the distance to his mother and holds her tightly in his arms. He rests his cheek on the top of her head and closes his eyes. "It's all right, Maman. Please don't worry, okay?" He squeezes his mother a little tighter as her arms wrap around his middle. "It's all right. I'm all right. I'm in good hands here."

Pascale's gaze flickers to you and a small smile crosses her beautiful face. You recognize Charles in it. "You'll take good care of him, won't you?"

You feel the blood rush to your face. Suddenly it feels wrong to be witnessing this loving conversation between mother and son. "Of course." With everything I have.

"Very well, chéri," Pascale finally says, gently pushing her son away. "Your brother is coming to visit tomorrow. As you haven't seen each other for a while, I'd like you to come to dinner. He would definitely be happy to see you." She looks at you again. "You too, sweetheart."

Before you can respond, Charles looks at you and shakes his head, barely noticing, so you don't turn down her invitation. "All right, maman. We'll be there." He nudges her lightly with his elbow. "As long as there's pasta e pollo."

Pascale rolls her eyes. "You're incorrigible, Charles." She smiles at him anyway. "Your new girlfriend gets to decide. After all, she's the new addition to our family and I want to make a good impression."

"Maman, she's -" Charles tries to explain himself, but his mother merely raises her hand to silence him. When Charles and your eyes meet, you feel warm. And when he pushes his lower lip forward, he looks so cute that you can't help but agree with him. 

"Pasta e pollo sounds great."

Pascale gets up from her chair. "Very good. Then I'll get everything ready for tomorrow." She strides past you towards the front door and you follow her again. "I'll see you tomorrow evening. I'll let you know the exact time, mon chéri." She kisses Charles' right and then left cheek before repeating it with you. "Tomorrow we'll have enough time to talk about all this. And to get to know each other better."

"I can hardly wait," you answer her honestly.

"That's very nice. Then I'll see you tomorrow evening. Bonne journée," she wishes you before disappearing from the apartment just as quickly as she came in. As the door closes behind her, you both exhale deeply.

"I'm so sorry." Charles turns to face you.

You cross your arms in front of your chest. "Sorry for what exactly? Your mother suddenly showing up here?"

He runs his hand through his hair and leans back against the closed door. "That you're now forced to spend the evening with my family. And that I didn't make it clear that we're just friends."

You run your tongue along the inside of your teeth. "It's okay, there's plenty of time for that." Then you smile. "Your mom seems nice. I have no problem spending time with her."

He laughs briefly and then leans his head against the white wood. "It's not my mom that worries me. It's my brothers. They can be really - you know - brothers sometimes."

You walk towards him and lower your arms. "Why? Are they that bad?"

He grabs one of your hands and plays with your fingers. His eyes search yours. "I think it's better if you make up your own mind about them."

"So they're that bad?" you joke, allowing him to pull you closer so that you're standing between his legs. "If they're anything like you, I think I'll get on well with them."

His free hand rests on your hip. Despite the layers of fabric, you can feel the warmth of his skin. "Then you'll hate Arthur." His fingers press gently into your flesh before something behind you catches his attention and he releases you - too quickly for your liking. As you turn around, the piano catches your eye and the roses standing on it. 

"What's the plan for today?" you ask him, trying to draw his attention back to you. You release his hand from your hip, but only to pull him into the kitchen so he doesn't have to look at those stupid roses anymore. "Do you have to do anything? Gym? Or do you have any appointments?"

Charles sits down in his chair and fishes his cell phone out of the pocket of his sweatpants. "I don't think so," he answers and takes a look at his online calendar before placing his cell phone on the counter in front of him. "I don't have any appointments or commitments to meet until after Christmas. Until then, I'm all yours." His smile is sweet as sugar and your heart skips a beat.

You want to grab him by the collar of his shirt, pull him across the worktop and kiss him until you can't breathe. Touch him until the countertop is used for something other than cooking, but this morning you convinced yourself that this friendship is the right and, above all, the only way this can work. And that you wouldn't do anything to sabotage this friendship.

"How about we use this time wisely then, huh?" You reach for Pascale's coffee cup and rinse it. 

"Do you have an idea?" He raises an eyebrow and has to stifle a smile when he sees your grin. "Of course you have one. Otherwise you wouldn't have asked like that. Fire away."

"So," you start and put the cup back in its place in the cupboard. "We've finally spoken and we've agreed to stay in this apartment together."

"As friends," the Monegasque confirms the thought you just had, even if you don't understand why he has to say it out loud. 

Your eyes dart towards the hallway, knowing that the white piano with the red roses is just a few meters away. "What do you say we go out today and buy some new things for the apartment?" you suggest. "Then I could get things for my room and maybe something else to make it feel a bit more like home."

"You mean to make it feel like it's your apartment too?" Charles leans back in his chair a little and runs his hand through his hair. 

"Only if that's okay with you. After all, it's your apartment and I could understand if you wanted to leave everything as it is at the moment and -" you babble nervously without thinking about what you're saying. You look at him worriedly and try to read his face to see if you might have crossed a line. 

"That's actually a good idea," Charles finally replies, smiling at you. "But are you ready for it?"

"For what?" you ask, confused, leaning against the countertop, which - unfortunately - is only used for cooking.

Charles shrugs his shoulders. "For being seen outside. With me." He looks at you like a kicked puppy that's been abandoned on the street in the middle of the night.

"I told you I have no problem with that," you assure him and walk around the kitchen counter to sit next to him. You reach for his hand and intertwine your fingers. "We're friends, Charles. We know we're friends. And I don't care what anyone else thinks they know about us." You tilt your head a little to one side. "Our friendship is real - and that's why we're going right out there to buy some new stuff for the apartment."

His smile almost makes your heart stop. "For our apartment," he corrects you, his green eyes twinkling.

"Our apartment," you repeat softly. 

"Okay." He lowers his gaze to your hands, and the way his fingers wrap around yours makes it feel like they're perfect for each other. The two of you spending time together shouldn't make you this happy. "But we'll only go on one condition."

"What's that?" 

"We're not going alone. We're taking Pierre and Kika with us so that it doesn't look like we're shopping for furniture for our apartment as a couple in love." The fact that he doesn't want to go out alone with you feels like a punch in the gut. When he notices the hurt look on your face, he squeezes your fingers gently twice. "It's just to protect you, Y/N."

The fact that he doesn't trust you to do this hits you harder than it should. How many times do you have to tell him you're ready? That the opinions of others don't matter to you as long as you have Charles by your side? Does he really think you're that weak?

"I don't need to be protected," you reply sharply and take your hand away from him. 

"You don't know what you're getting yourself into," he tries to reassure you, but the fact that he's talking down your feelings doesn't make things any better. 

"Maybe not," you say annoyed and get up from your chair. "But there will come a point when we're on our own. And then everyone's going to be talking shit about us, I get it. And I get that it's going to be bad." You don't care that you're acting like a defiant child. The fact that Charles doesn't want to be seen alone with you hurts more than you would ever admit. "So why not today?"

The young man in front of you looks away from you with a crestfallen expression before also rising from his chair. When he reaches for your hand again, you allow it. "I want you to be able to turn away from me if it gets too much for you. I want you to have the chance to live a normal life if you do decide against me." His other hand rests against your cheek and you snuggle up to him as if it were a reflex. "I don't want you to regret meeting me."

The fact that he thinks you could ever regret befriending him stabs straight through your heart. He wants to protect you from something you both have no control over, and although you'd like to stroll through Monaco holding hands with him, you can understand him.

He is trying to protect both you and himself. And you can understand that all too well. 

"All right," you give in and smile gently at him. "Then ask them if they're free and up for it today. It could be fun."

Charles lets go of you and the warmth that had been flowing through your body immediately disappears. While he talks to Pierre on the phone, you go back to your room to get changed and think about what would look good in your room. 

Different curtains wouldn't go amiss, and some candles and a small mirror would look good on the white chest of drawers opposite the bed. You might also find some new bedding that -

"Y/N?" Charles' voice echoes through the apartment. You find him in the doorway of the master bedroom, where he glances over his shoulder in your direction. "Pierre and Kika are about to head out, then we'll leave together." 

"Okay," you reply, glancing past him into the room. There are a few things lying around that are definitely not his, and the decor doesn't suit him very well either. "So this is your room?" 

"Uh-huh." He wrinkles his mouth a little. 

"What's wrong with it? Apart from the obvious, of course."

He crosses his arms in front of his chest. "Everything. I don't see anything in it that I wouldn't change."

You'd be only too happy to set the whole room on fire if it would certainly help him. Just like the roses that have burned themselves into your memory. You nudge him with your elbow. "Then we've got a lot planned for today." You look at each other and when he reaches for your hand, you have to smile. "You don't have to go through this alone, Charles. We can do this as long as we're together."

His gaze flickers briefly from your eyes to your lips. "Together," he says softly in return, leaning down a little towards you so that you have to tilt your head back to look at him. His warm breath caresses your face as his free hand finds its place on his hip again to pull you against him. You feel his hard body against yours, his heartbeat under your fingertips as you place your hand on his chest. You feel his warmth as his nose bumps against yours, his hip against your stomach as he presses you against him. You feel his -

"Are you ready?" Pierre's voice comes out of nowhere as he and Kika walk through the front door. Thank God the bedroom is further back so they can't see you. 

Instead of letting you go, Charles presses you tighter against him so that you can feel him everywhere. "I think we need a new door lock," he breathes, leaning his forehead against yours. "Then no more uninvited guests can come in when we're together." 

When he finally breaks away from you, you have to take a deep breath. Although you've decided that you don't feel anything for him apart from friendship, he triggers something in you that no one before him has ever managed to do. 

You desire him. From the top of your head to the soles of your feet, you crave him, his touch, his skin on yours. And his words echo in your thoughts, making you dizzy. 

Together. Together. Together. 

You rub your face once and look after Charles, who briefly disappears in the direction of the living room, the opposite direction from your friends.

What you can't see, however, is him shoving his hand into his pants to control his raging boner, which is pressing almost painfully against the seams of his boxers. How is he supposed to put up with that when you live together?

Together. Together. Together.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Injured IX

Alexia Putellas x Child!Reader

Jenni Hermoso x Child!Reader

Summary: Things get worse before they can get better

Two days after you and Jaume are admitted into hospital, several different things happen.

One: Jenni's manager calls and tells her that she can only take a maximum of two more weeks leave and that she needs to return to Mexico within the month.

Two: Jaume gets much better, very quickly. He's practically good as new and he's allowed out of his room for short periods of time.

Three: The pottery place lets Alexia know that her mug and your train are ready so she goes to pick them up.

Four: She comes back with your ceramic train and drops it on the floor in horror when she sees you being intubated.

'She took a turn for the worse' they tell her. 'We've upped her medication and she should be fine in a few days', they say but all Alexia can think about is the shattered train on the floor and how tiny you look in your bed.

You're moved to the ICU and remain motionless and asleep for days on end. Therein lies the second problem.

The ICU nurses are stricter than the nurses in the peds wing. They say only the legal guardians can go into your room.

You have no father. You had no other mother either, not legally anyway.

You have just Alexia. Just Alexia who can sign off on treatment plans. Just Alexia who can sign you out and be given updates about your condition.

Just Alexia who can go and sit by your bedside and sob.

It was supposed to be a good day. Jaume was better. You were going to get your train.

It's all ruined now and all Alexia can do is sob.

Jenni sobs too.

She can't see you. She can't even enter the ICU. She can do nothing but loiter in the waiting room.

She had nowhere else to go.

Eli and Alba can go and see Jaume but Jenni has nothing to do with Jaume. She just has you.

You who is intubated and asleep in the ICU. You who she had pinned down and so cruelly not explained anything to. You who was still so small and scared and stuck in hospital while Jenni would have to return to Mexico very, very soon.

"How is she?"

Jenni's ex looks away. Alexia looks exhausted, worse than Jenni's ever seen her before. There are bags under her eyes. Her hair looks unbrushed. Her clothes are crumpled.

"The doctors are optimistic," Is Alexia's answer," They think she's fighting really well. They..." Alexia's throat bobs. "They think she'll be strong enough to come off it in a day or two."

"And she can have visitors again?"

"Maybe not as quickly," Alexia explains," I think we should be conservative. Maybe not even until she's fully healthy again. I think-"

"Alexia, I have to leave soon."

Alexia breaks off. "What?"

"Back to Mexico. I've delayed it as long as I can. By the end of the month, I need to be gone again."

"What are you talking about?" Alexia still can't wrap her mind around it. "Back to Mexico? Bambi's still sick."

"I know!" Jenni snaps. "I know, Alexia. And you need to make a decision."

"A decision? Jenni, what are you talking about?"

"You need to put someone else on her papers. You've seen those doctors. We don't get told anything. It's dangerous."

"Jenni-"

"What if Bambi breaks her arm? Me or Olga bring her to hospital and they can't do anything because we're not legal guardians. What would have happened if they couldn't get a hold of you after they intubated her? They can't change treatment plans without parental consent."

"I-"

Jenni sighs, long and drawn out. "I know you have a lot on your plate, Alexia. I know, I do but this is about Bambi and what she deserves and she deserves two people on that birth certificate."

Jenni doesn't say what she wants to say. She doesn't say that she desperately wants you as her own. She doesn't say that she thinks in the deepest, most malicious part of her brain that Alexia has already ruined whatever relationship you had beyond repair. She doesn't say that she thinks a new start in Mexico would be best for you.

She doesn't say that she's already looked at a ballet academy near her apartment and that her club has some of the best childcare options she's seen in a long time.

Jenni doesn't say anything more.

She just turns on her heel and walks out.

Out of Alexia's company, out of the waiting room, out of the hospital.

She doesn't say anything until she's in her car and sobbing into her steering wheel.

Her words float through Alexia's brain even as she sits in Jaume's room with him.

He looks much better than before. The rash is gone. He's moving around again.

The only evidence that he was ever sick at all is the IV still attached to his hand, feeding antibiotics into his body to make sure it's fully gone.

"Something funny, little man?" Alexia coos as he giggles uncontrollably," What so funny, huh? What so funny?" She bounces him gently at each word and Jaume giggles even more.

"The little man's happy he's getting out of here in a few days," Olga says, hooking her chin over Alexia's shoulder," Isn't that right, Jaume? Is that why you're so giggly today?"

Jaume giggle in answer, kicking his feet out.

"Look at these kicks," Alexia coos," My little footballer, huh? Are you going to captain Spain? I think you are!"

"Your Mama and sister went home," Olga says," They'll be here early tomorrow, like always."

"Jenni went as well."

Olga goes to sit in the chair next to Alexia's, frowning. "That's unlike her. I swear, I thought she was going to sneak into the ICU yesterday."

"She told me that she needs to go back to Mexico soon," Alexia says," She's delaying it for as long as possible."

"All for our Bambi?" Olga hums," She really loves her."

"Yeah," Alexia says," She does."

Alexia is in awe of Jenni sometimes. Jenni has always loved you, Alexia thinks. Jenni's always been a part of your life even when Alexia didn't have the energy to care for herself. Jenni had always been there.

Alexia doesn't think she'll ever understand just how much Jenni adores you. You make the planets spin for Jenni. You hang the stars and the moon and sometimes, like now, Alexia wonders if she'll ever be able to live up to that.

If she'll ever be able to give you the life you deserve.

She doesn't want to give you up. Selfishly, she wants a life where she can hold both you and Jaume in bed with her. She wants a life where she can go to Jaume's football matches and your ballet recitals. She wants a life where she can win a Champion's League and see you running onto the pitch to celebrate with her.

But she doesn't know if that's the life you want.

She doesn't know if that's the life you deserve, constantly being shepherded from one thing to another, constantly living in fear that you'll be left behind again.

Alexia knows a life with Jenni, where you're the centre of her world, would be good for you too. But, still, Alexia can't help but let her heart flutter at hearing Olga call you 'our Bambi'.

'Our Bambi'.

Hers and Alexia's.

If you went with Jenni then you would be just Jenni's, no matter if Alexia kept her name on your birth certificate. You would be half a world away. She would see you when Jenni returned for international duty. She would see you a few weeks every year and Alexia doesn't know how she could cope with that.

Alexia doesn't know how she would explain to Jaume about the sister he never sees.

Alexia is your mother and she needs to do what is best for you, despite how selfish she wants to be.

She needs to decide if she can still give you the best life possible or if letting Jenni raise you is truly what will give you the best chance possible.

"Ale?" Olga asks softly, shaking her," You're crying."

Alexia swipes the tears away. "I was just thinking about Bambi. I should probably get back to her. The doctors keep saying that she won't even notice but-"

"But you should still sit with her," Olga says," She deserves to have some company. Here." Olga reaches into her bag.

She pulls out your ceramic train, the one Alexia shattered on the floor after seeing you with a tube down your throat.

"It's still missing a few pieces," Olga explains," But I tried my best. I thought you could put it at her bedside."

Alexia takes it gently, cradling it in her hands. Olga's right. There's still little chips and Alexia can very clearly see where Olga has glued the broken pieces together.

It's still fractured and broken but it's perfect.

"I love you," Alexia chokes out," I love you."

"I love you too," Olga says," Just as I love our kids. Go, Ale. Sit with her. Me and the little man will be right here."

The sun glints on your ceramic train for nearly a week until you wake up.

The doctors keep you asleep until they're certain that the meningitis is gone.

Jaume gets to go home with Olga the day before you get woken up.

There's a crowd outside your room early the next day and Alexia is the only one allowed in.

"We've taken the tube out," The doctors explain," And she'll be coming out of the anaesthesia soon. She'll be a little disorientated and emotional but once she's up, give it an hour or two, we'll check her hearing and her strength and if it all goes well then she should be out of here by late afternoon."

"How likely is it that her hearing's being affected?"

"Meningitis is known to cause hearing loss but I'm optimistic. Despite what's happened, she's fought it every step of the way. There's a good chance she comes out of this without any lasting effects."

"And once she's up? I can let people in?"

The doctor glances over at the assembled crowd. "Only one or two in the room at a time. We don't want to overwhelm her."

"Thank you."

"I'll be back soon."

Alexia retakes her seat at your side, holding your hand gently in her own. Your little hands are perfect to hold in her own. You could probably hold just a finger and it would still be bigger than your whole hand.

"I love you," Alexia whispers as she presses a soft kiss to your forehead," I love you so, so much, Bambi. You're all better now. You just need to wake up."

You don't come to for another thirty minutes or so and, when you finally do, it's slowly.

"Mami," You say," My throat hurts."

Alexia can't help the worried laughter that bubbles out of her throat. It's half in relief and half in how disgruntled you look.

"Mami?"

"Here, Bambi," She says," Sit up. Let's have a little drink."

She holds the glass as you sip the water. You lean easily into the comfort Alexia's offering, your head resting on her shoulder

"Wha's goin' on, Mami?"

"You were sick," Alexia says," But you're better now and you get to leave if everything's okay."

Your brow wrinkles. "I..." Your eyes dart around and Alexia suddenly realises what the doctor meant by you being emotional. "I want Mama! Mama! Want-Want Mama!"

Tears spill down your cheeks and Alexia knows exactly who you want.

She shouldn't take it personally. She knows you're sad and overwhelmed and you're reaching out for comfort for the person that you can't see.

Alexia knows this is normal. She's been told this is normal and yet-

Alexia pushes away her feelings, tucking you into the blankets and pressing a kiss to your cheek that you clearly welcome. "I'll get you Jenni," She promises," Just give me a second."

She pokes her head out of the door.

"Jenni," Alexia says, voice emotionless," She needs you."

Jenni's looking more relieved than Alexia's ever seen her before as she rushes into the room.

"Mama," You say, brow wrinkled and looking up at her with wet, puppy dog eyes," You hurt me."

"I hurt you?" Jenni echoes as she takes Alexia's seat," When did I hurt you, Bambi?"

"When the bad man touched my back and you held my legs."

"I'm sorry, Bambi," Jenni says gently," That was wrong of me. I'm very, very sorry."

You're still confused. Your brain feels like it's full of cotton, all fuzzy and weird like that time the tv made that weird noise and went all staticky.

You lay back down. Your head bounces a little from the force you've thrown it back into your pillow with.

Everything's all jumbled and confused and you gently take Ma-Jenni's hand in your own. She's got big hands with fingers you can wrap your whole hand around and still have your hand be too small.

You know someone else like that, you think and your brain strains to think of who it is.

You get glimpses.

Big hands. A Barcelona kit. Gentle strokes down your back and kisses on your forehead when you're sad.

"Mami," You croak out even as Ma-Jenni climbs into bed with you and cradles you against her body.

Mami was with you earlier. You can remember that. You lift your head to see where she's gone but you can't see her anywhere.

"Mama," You say, tugging on Ma-Jenni's shirt as tears still drip down your cheeks," Mami's gone! Mami's gone again!"

You don't know that Alexia's crying too.

In the bathroom down the hall, staring at herself in the mirror and only seeing your own tearful face reflected back at her.

[ms-demeanor]

IDK that I've ever put it in one post before, but here's the transplant speedrun.

1 - Valentines day 2021, he's admitted to the hospital. We take a pre-hospital selfie then I shave his head and he shaves his beard because he doesn't want to deal with hair at the hospital. Me and his mom drop him off; at that point you can only visit someone as they are actually dying and we're told that he's going to stay in the hospital until he gets a transplant or he dies, and if he's rejected as a transplant recipient he'll receive palliative care in this hospital.

2 - First week of March, they allow patients to have one screened visitor; this is our first visit - I take photos in the hospital to show his mom because at this point he has a pump in his shoulder and it is difficult for him to move his arms to use his phone. He has also been confined to a bed since the week he arrived because he's on the ECMO machine, so he can't walk or move around, though they stand him up every once in a while. At one point one of the ecmo tubes pulls out of his femoral artery, which is Not! Great! He also needed a blood transfusion about every two days at that point, which worried the doctors because it increased his likelihood of rejecting. But he had been approved for transplant at that point!

The first thing he said to me on this visit was "look, I have abs" and then he showed me his abs because it turns out when you're really really dying of heart failure your body begins to eat itself.

3 - Now That's What I Call Jaundice (cardiac cirrhosis is liver failure as a result of heart failure and it's pretty much the big giant neon flashing sign of heart failure that says "hey you're fucking dying" so if you've got heart failure and your bilirubin number is off or the whites of your eyes are yellow please kick up a gigantic stink until they check your liver; large bastard's GP, who is my doctor, who I hate, saw his bloodwork with a very high bilirubin number a month before he was diagnosed with cardiac cirrhosis and wrote it off as a testing fluke fuck that guy)

4 - Don't let the sad face fool you, he's acting pathetic so that his mom will stop yelling about the fact that I'm bringing him cookies. He's allowed to have cookies. At that point he weighed 98kg and was outsourcing his heartbeat, he was allowed to eat whatever he wanted. (have i mentioned that I was moving us from Vegas to LA at this time? I was bringing him cookies because I'd baked hundreds of peanut butter cookies and other cookies to use up the flour, sugar, and peanut butter in the vegas house)

5 - Mid-march, he's got a match! He called me when I was in Vegas filling up the truck with another load and I drove right back and to the hospital. Once he went in for surgery I drove to his mom's house and crashed, then woke up and drove to our storage unit and unpacked the truck while I waited to hear from the doctors. I was unloading a bookcase when I got the call. (There wasn't any point in waiting alone in the hospital for sixteen hours; either he was going to make it or he wasn't and someone was going to have to unload the truck at some point. People have been weird about this, like I should have been sitting at his side all the time, but there was a two-hour daily limit for most visits and look i have sat in a waiting room while this dude had a thirteen hour surgery i do not need a repeat of that experience without the soothing balm of nicotine getting me through it; so unloading a truck it was)

6 - Two days after surgery and kind of mad about it. His chest hurt a lot (obviously) but, like, a lot a lot because they'd had to open him up for the bypass just two years earlier.

7 - First walk outside of his room after transplant in early April; he needed a LOT of PT because of how much muscle he'd lost. He lost sixty pounds in the hospital before the surgery, and only gained back about twenty while he was in there.

8 - A visit from the tiny doggo

9 - I come to visit and I've got a new phone with a portrait mode so he steals it and takes stupid pictures for a few minutes. Dude is bored and restless; this is in late april and he's feeling well enough to be moody. ETA: There is a jar of pickles in front of him because he'd been fluid limited for a long time and his salt levels were off and when he got to the hospital they were like "you need electrolytes and a lot of salt" and he was like "sweetheart can you please please please bring me delicious salty things" so I was bringing him jars of pickled mushrooms and garlic stuffed olives and just a huge number of pickles that he kept trying to share with the nurses. "Alli brought the mushrooms again; would you like a pickled mushroom? I have fancy toothpicks to share them with!"

10 - He comes home for the first time in early May; he ends up getting readmitted two more times because of complications before finally being released in early July. ETA: The second time he got readmitted it was for something that he wasn't at all worried about but that they needed to monitor for a couple weeks so he was *SO BORED* and actually feeling pretty okay; so at one point when I was leaving the parking garage at 8pm my car wouldn't start, I did some troubleshooting with the manual and the internet and didn't figure it out, so I called him and he tried to troubleshoot over the phone and got frustrated and was begging his nurses to let him come out to the parking structure to work on my car (they refused) - I ended up getting a tow and fixing it when I replaced the battery terminals.

Photos are all posted with his permission.

Also I dyed my hair purple between photos one and two because it's his favorite color. I also bought a blue dress, red tights, and yellow shoes to wear to visit him because he always teases me for wearing so much black.

I just love him a lot. It was a hard couple years there, but things are getting better.

[fanficimagery]

No Bone Zone

Dustin Henderson has a sister who thinks it's unfair his older friends are so attractive.

Words: 4.8K Author's Note: Stranger Things AU - Lets just pretend that Steve and Carol are still in school, only Steve is the Steve we all know and love, and Carol is still a harpy.

When your father met Claudia Henderson, you had only been two years old.

The story goes that your birth mother had thought she snagged herself the perfect man, but your father had a wandering eye, and she was a very jealous woman. So, when you were born, she left you in his capable hands and took off without a word. Enter Claudia Henderson who then fell for the struggling, single father schtick. She hadn't known what she was getting into when dating your father, but she quickly found out after she fell pregnant. This time it was your father who left, leaving Claudia to fend for herself.

It took a few years to realize you had a little brother, and when you did it took a lot of crying and tantrums to get your father to contact Claudia. He reluctantly told her you wanted to meet your brother, but since the two of you had school, it would have to wait until summer. So, one week out of the summer, Claudia Henderson would keep you in Hawkins so you could get to know your only sibling.

Over the years, you and Dustin kept in contact over the phone when he was old enough to know how to use a phone. You shared your interests with one another, telling each other all about your school experiences. You were more on the popular side of the spectrum, whereas your little brother was a total nerd and very unpopular. He admitted it hurt when other kids picked on him and you apologized for calling him a nerd, but he assured you he didn't mind it when you said it because you said it with affection.

The older you got, the more your father pulled away. Since you were old enough to take care of yourself, he treated you more like a houseguest and less like a daughter. And after one too many arguments with his late-night visitors, you called up Claudia to ask if you could finish your last year of school in Hawkins. She listened to what had been going on and immediately told you to pack your belongings. She and Dustin would make sure the room you normally used for one week out of the year would be ready for you to move into.

Dustin was more than happy to have you go to school with him but was wary of introducing you to his friends since you were on completely different sides of the popular spectrum. You promised he didn't have to do that, and he could go about his days as if you weren't there. You wouldn't hold it against him, but you would still keep an eye on him from afar because that's what big sisters did.

For the first week at Hawkins High, you pasted on a smile and took in your surroundings. You kept your word to Dustin and stayed far, but not too far away. Then when you were comfortable knowing who was who in school, you tried out for the cheer team. It was a no-brainer that the girls voted you onto the team after seeing how quickly you could pick up routines and perform the perfect tumbles, and in no time, you found yourself at the top of the totem pole where you belonged.

Over the weeks you noticed Dustin had two separate groups of friends- one who called themselves the Hellfire Club and another who consisted of a band geek, an ex-king, a creep photographer, an ex-princess and two freshmen females. The Hellfire Club made sense, but the second group was all over the place. You, however, didn't question it and were just glad Dustin had friends who looked out for him.

Unfortunately, your brother's friends consisted mostly of males. There were four females in his social circle, but none of them were as confrontational as you hoped they would be.

So, when you see Carol Perkins purposely bump into your brother and knock his tray from his hand one day, and then cruelly make remarks towards him that have his shoulders raising in embarrassment, you're up and out of your seat. Half the cafeteria had quieted when Dustin's tray clattered to the floor and then the other half quieted when you practically skipped towards the duo, your cheerleader skirt swishing from side to side.

"Hi." You beam at Carol, letting your smile lure her into a false sense of security as you come to a stop next to Dustin. From the corner of your eye, you see his shoulders droop in relief. "We haven't met yet. I'm YN LN," you tell the girl.

"Okay. And..?" Her nose wrinkles as if in distaste and your gaze goes steely.

"And I'm gonna need to apologize to Henderson here," you say. She barks out a laugh, head thrown back in amusement. A few others start to laugh along with her, but a majority smartly remain quiet as you continue to stare her down. Your smile falls and you take a step closer to her, lowering your voice and clasping your hands behind your back. It would do no one any good if you were to strike out at the female bully. "Listen, Carol, I couldn't care less about who you pick on, but you just pulled this stunt on my little brother. Now apologize, publicly, or I will make your life a living hell." The girl's smile slowly vanishes and you see her glance at Dustin a little fearfully. You slowly smirk then. "You see, I pick locks for fun. It'd probably take me a week, give or take a day or two, before I open up that closet of yours and air out all your dirty laundry. You wouldn't want that, would you, Carol?"

"You- you wouldn't."

"Oh, I would. And I'd do it with a smile on my face," you tell her a little too sweetly. When she still makes no move to apologize, you ask, "Who do you think the school's gonna rally behind? The cheerleader that everyone adores or the girl that everyone makes fun of because your middle school sweetheart is railing other girls behind your back?" She gasps and you chuckle darkly. "I might be the new girl but figuring out everyone's dirty little secrets was way too easy in your podunk little town."

Her eyes widen and she takes a few steps back. Glancing at Dustin, she says, "Sorry," before rushing away.

You smile as you watch her go, turning on your heel to follow her and then laugh when she smacks away her boyfriend's hands when he tries to check if she's okay. Then when you realize the cafeteria is still too quiet, you huff. "What?" You feign innocence. "The girl had tummy issues. It's not my fault she had to race to the bathroom."

As some of your peers laugh and the rest go back to what they were doing before Carol interrupted their lunch hour, you look back at Dustin. He's grinning at you, and you roll your eyes while reaching out to ruffle his curls. But before either of you can say anything, someone is clearing their throat.

"New friend, Henderson?" Eddie Munson is grinning behind Dustin, though his guarded gaze tells you he's trying to figure out whether your appearance is with good intentions or you were about to pick on his little sheep as well since he couldn't hear the whole conversation between you and Carol. "I didn't know Hawkins had a decent cheerleader."

"Decent?" You mock gasp, clasping your hands over your heart as if swooning. "Flattery will get you everywhere, Munson." You wink, Eddie gapes, and Dustin groans as he turns so he can see both of you.

"Please don't flirt with my friend."

You chuckle softly. "Then tell you friend to stop being so cute." Eddie's expression flickers from shocked to surprised to smug in about two seconds flat while the rest of the Hellfire table go dead silent in shock. "Now if you boys will excuse me, I got three tires to slash. Carol does not get to pick on my little brother and get away with it."

Eddie hops back a step, smirking and bending slightly at the waist as he sweeps his arm out for you to go.

"Brother?!"

"Since when does Henderson have a goddamn sister?!"

You smirk at the chaos you've just created and Dustin groans yet again. Laughing, you pinch his cheek, but before you can get too far away, Eddie asks, "Wait. Three tires? Why not all four?"

"Because insurance will cover four tires, but not three for some reason." You shrug. "I slash only three and Carol will have to pay out of pocket."

"You're diabolical," Eddie then realizes, smiling wide. "Marry me."

"No. Nope. Not happening." Dustin starts pushing you away and you wiggle your fingers in departure. As you're passing the other table with his second group of friends, you laugh at their surprised expressions. Dustin sighs, stops, and quickly introduces you. "Guys, this is YN. She's my sister." He then shoves you aside. "Now off you go. If you need an alibi, let me know."

"Will do, baby bro." Then raising your voice so those around you can hear, you say, "And if anyone gives you any trouble, come to me. I'll set them straight."

You leave the cafeteria with your fellow peers whispering about the new information you just dropped on them, happy with the chaos you no doubt just created. You expect some to not take a liking to the fact that you're related to someone in the Hellfire Club, but you're more than ready for the backlash.

You're a little surprised that it doesn't take long to be cornered by Jason Carver and his basketball goons, but you surprise them right back by not cowering to his intensity. He calls you a freak lover and a cult member and that you don't deserve to wear the school colors. You laugh in his face, press back into his personal space and tell him the same thing you'd told Carol. You match his intensity and promise all sorts of problems for anyone messing with your brother and his friends.

"You're psycho," he realizes as he watches you go from sweet to angry and back to sweet.

"And don't you forget it," you tell him. "Your final year at Hawkins High can be easy peasy, Carver, so long as you stop being a dick. If I see or even hear about you bullying the Hellfire club, we're gonna have problems." He scoffs and you chuckle. "Don't believe me? Just keep an eye on Carol Perkins. You'll learn."

You go about your day as if it were any other day, answering questions here and there to those curious about your relationship to Dustin. The cheerleaders don't really have a problem about who you associate with and you're majorly shocked when Jason's own girlfriend, Chrissy Cunningham, explains how relieved she is that someone finally stuck up for the Hellfire Club. She's heard numerous rumors about the club and a connection to satanic worship, so she's greatly relieved when you explain to her exactly what Dungeons and Dragons actually is.

Then at the end of the day, you skip to your car without a care in the world and mentally cackle when you see Carol being consoled by her bully of a boyfriend as a tow truck loads up her car with three flat tires. You catch Jason's eye then, winking as he gapes between the scene of the crime and your seemingly innocent self.

Over the next couple of weeks, you slowly let your authentic self bleed in with your cheerleader persona. Gone are the pastels, your girl next door vibe is edgier than anyone had anticipated, and you take great pleasure in the jocks not knowing what to think of you. Jason and his little band of bullies still openly sneer at you and the others they deem different, but they never make Carol's mistake of getting physical.

Then again, Jason's open hostility could be because Chrissy becomes your best friend and publicly smiles at or greets those in Hellfire Club that her boyfriend once tormented.

During Christmas break, Claudia's sister has an accident and needs help around her house. She doesn't like the idea of leaving Dustin during the holiday break, but you persuade her to go- much to Dustin's excitement- while you keep an eye on things in Hawkins. She's unsure of leaving the both of you, but you assure her everything will be okay. And then once she's gone, you and Dustin start making plans since you have the house to yourselves.

"I'm gonna see if Hellfire wants to continue our current campaign here since mom's gone."

"That's fine. I'll probably have Chrissy over for a sleepover. Poor girl needs to get out more."

"Cool."

So that's how you find yourself in your room later that evening, cleaning up and piling pillows and blankets on an air mattress on the floor so your friend has a comfortable place to sleep. Dustin and his friends have been downstairs for hours, the rambunctious bunch being louder than you anticipated, but it brought a smile to your face knowing your little brother found a place to belong.

After a while, you turn off your radio and realize it's a little too quiet.

Heading downstairs and peeking into the den, you're surprised to see Dustin collecting empty bowls and glasses, and Eddie stowing away items from the game they just played. "Hey, losers." Both look up, causing you to grin as you lean against the den archway. "Where'd everyone go?"

"Gone. Campaign ended early," your brother says. "Why? What's up?"

"Nothing. I'm about to go pick up Chrissy, some food, and a movie. I was going to see if anyone wanted to stick around, but I guess I'm too late." Dustin looks surprised that you'd include his friends and then your gaze darts to Eddie. Arching an eyebrow at him, you ask, "You in?"

"Depends. What's the movie?" He wonders.

"Goonies."

"And food?" Dustin then asks.

"Pizza."

"What about dessert?" Eddie muses.

You chuckle, making it obvious that you're looking him up and down as you bite the bottom corner of your lip. "Me hopefully."

Eddie's jaw drops open in surprise as Dustin groans. "You're disgusting!" Then out of nowhere, he produces a water bottle and spritzes it at you. "Stop hitting on my friends."

You flinch, looking at your brother in shock before both you and Eddie erupt with laughter. As Dustin continues to try and spritz you, you dodge the stream of water. "It's not my fault! You're supposed to have friends who look like gangly Wheeler and bashful Byers!" You hide behind Eddie, using him as a shield. "You're not supposed to have friends who look like Eddie or Steve or hell, even Robin. It's not fair to my hormones!"

"Your hormones need to be locked up tight!"

Laughing, you run out from behind Eddie and out of reach from Dustin and the spray bottle. "Okay. Fine. No hooking up with your friends."

"Damn," Eddie mumbles, which earns him a quick spritz of water as well. He yelps and you continue to giggle.

"Okay, okay. Serious time here," you say while calming down. "Are you boys good with pepperoni or do you have any special requests?"

"Get a meat lovers," Dustin says.

Eddie shrugs. "I'm good with whatever."

"Alright. You boys wash the dishes from your game night, and I'll be back with Chrissy and food."

Eddie watches you go with a smile, still not moving even after the front door closes at your departure. It isn't until Dustin spritzes him with water yet again does he startle from his mental musing. "What?"

"Don't even think about it. That's my sister, man."

He rolls his eyes, but smirks nonetheless. "Can you blame me? Your sister's hot, Henderson." Dustin raises the water bottle again and Eddie's hands fly up in surrender. "Chill out. Besides, it's all just fun and games. I'd be a lucky guy if your sister meant everything she said. But even if she did, I doubt she'd do that to you. Hell, I wouldn't even do that to you. You were my friend first. I get she's off limits. Whatever's going on between us is just for laughs."

"Yeah, yeah." Dustin stows the bottle away, sighing. "Help me clean up and make the living room cozy. The Goonies is her favorite movie so don't be surprised if she recites her favorite parts."

. . . .

One right after the other, you and Chrissy walk into Family Video still giggling. You had told her about Dustin spritzing you and Eddie like you were cats in heat, and she found it absolutely hilarious. Her laughter set off your laughter and you just couldn't stop.

"You girls are cutting it awfully close," Steve calls out. "We're closing in twenty minutes."

As you glance up, you see him wiping down the counter while Robin restocks the candy shelves. "Heya, Harrington. I already know what I'm looking for, so it'll only take a sec."

Chrissy is still giggling as you grab her by the wrist, tugging her towards where you know various copies of the Goonies reside. Grabbing one, you then tug her back towards the front counter.

When Steve sees what you're renting, he huffs a laugh. "Again?"

"Yep." You hand him the movie. "Chris has never seen it. I don't think Eddie has either."

"Munson?" Steve's brow furrows as he enters the movie information into your account. "Are you having a movie night or something?"

"Yeah. You and Robin should come if you're up to it," you tell him. You then glance at Robin when her head whips in your direction. "It's just gonna be me, Chris, Eddie and Dustin. After we leave here, we're gonna go pick up some pizzas."

"Dustin's mom is letting everyone hang so late at night?"

"Claudia's gone for the next few days," you tell her, grinning. When you hear the cash register make a noise, you quickly glance at Steve to see that Chrissy's paid for the movie. You roll your eyes but let her have this win. "So, are you guys in or not?"

"Uh yeah. I don't have any plans," Steve says. "Robin?"

"I'm in too. I like the Goonies."

"Excellent." You grin. "I'm picking up two pizzas- a meat lovers and pepperoni. Are you guys good with that or do you want something else?"

"I, uh, I actually like supreme," Steve says.

"Same," Robin sheepishly admits.

"That's fine. I can pick up a third," you tell them.

"And don't worry about drinks. Steve's got it," Robin says.

You laugh as Steve grumbles but assures you he's got the drinks as you and Chrissy take your leave.

. . . .

When you get back to your house, Chrissy keeps hold of the movie while grabbing her overnight bag. You grab all three pizza boxes from the back seat and then head inside with your friend following you.

"And we're back," you shout as soon as the door is closed behind you. You smile at Chrissy as she stands next to you, looking around and keeping quiet. You see Dustin round the corner and he reaches for the pizza that you pull back just out of his reach. "Nope. We have to wait for Steve and Robin. They should be here in a little bit."

Dustin smiles, happy to have Steve over, but then his eyes narrow at you. "I see what you're doing, inviting the people you think are attractive."

Chrissy giggles as you smile at him. "It's a wet dream come true. Right, Munson?" You then direct the question at him, winking when he rounds the corner.

"Oh my god!" Dustin groans, grossed out. Chrissy squeaks next to you and you glance at her to see the apples of her cheeks tinting red. "Look! You're even grossing out your friend," Dustin then says.

Laughing, you hold all three pizza boxes in one hand and use your free arm to sling around her shoulders. "Relax, Chris. Eddie knows I'm only messing with him. And besides, Dustin already strictly forbade me from hooking up with his older friends."

Dustin grabs the boxes from you, marching off towards the kitchen. As soon as he's out of earshot, Chrissy asks, "So what's going to happen when your brother no longer cares about you hooking up with them?"

"Yeah, YN, what then?" Eddie asks, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

"Your ass is mine, Munson. That's what's gonna happen."

Chrissy barks out a laugh, quickly clamping a hand over her mouth to stifle the following giggles. Eddie laughs as well and then gestures for Chrissy to follow him. "Come on, Cunningham, let's get the movie all set up."

As Chrissy follows Eddie, you walk into the kitchen to find your brother pulling down plates. His expression is schooled so you don't know how he's currently feeling and it makes your heart ache just a little to know that you possibly hurt him by insinuating you'd hook up with his friends when he didn't approve of it.

"Hey," you call out softly. Dustin glances at you, his answering smile forced. Sighing softly, you step further into the kitchen until you're side by side with him and gather napkins. "You know I'd never actually hook-up with any of your friends, right? I wouldn't do that to you."

"You wouldn't?" His skepticism does you in and you smile sadly at him before turning to pull him into a hug.

"No, kid, I wouldn't. You come first. Always. And if you say Eddie is off limits, then he's off limits. Promise."

"M'kay." He pulls back then, smirking. "Steve and Robin are too. Don't think I didn't hear you mention them earlier."

Laughing, you tug on one of his curls. "Fine. Steve and Robin too."

"Steve and Robin too what?" The voice startles both you and Dustin, and you turn to see the two in question standing in the kitchen archway.

You shrug. "That you, Robin, and Eddie are officially in the no bone zone." Steve and Robin's eyes widen, and Dustin giggles at them while you grin unabashedly at them. "I'm a teenage girl, Harrington. Of course I noticed how hot my little brother's friends are. He was just setting down some ground rules." The two continue to gape at you and you roll your eyes. "Calm down. I'm sure it's not the first time a girl admitted to finding you attractive."

"No, but it is a first for me," Robin mutters.

"Yeah," you sigh. "People suck. But if you wanna hear it again, you're hot, Buckley. Own it."

As Robin perks up, Steve chuckles at her. "Now that our attractiveness is settled, we were promised pizza and a movie."

"Yeah. Of course." Then raising your voice, you say, "Chrissy, Eddie, come and grab a plate!"

Everyone crams into the kitchen, grabbing a plate to load up pizza slices and then grabbing a can of Cola from the bag that Steve had brought. You all take your food and drink into the living room, everyone settling down in whatever space they can find. Dustin ends up on the floor with Robin, using the coffee table to their advantage. Steve takes the armchair and you end up between Eddie and Chrissy on the sofa.

Though you've seen the Goonies numerous times, it never fails to make you laugh. And then when Sloth's introduction comes up, you can't help blurting, "That's the character that reminds me of Dustin." Your friends all chuckle and you end up with a throw pillow to the face in retaliation from your little brother.

You end up silently reciting Chunk's confession to the Fratelli's, earning a chuckle from Eddie who'd been watching you. There are a few other scenes that you mumble along to, but for the most part you remain quiet so the others can enjoy the movie. And then by the time it's over, you're happy to hear that everyone enjoyed it- Eddie included since he was the most skeptical of liking it.

You offer for Robin to spend the night with you and Chrissy, but unfortunately, she has family obligations she has to deal with the following day.

By the time school is back in session, you've toned down the obvious flirty comments to Eddie and distanced yourself a bit from those Dustin had befriended first. He completely understands your reasoning and there's no hard feelings.

Instead, you spend most of your time with Chrissy who has decided to take a break from Jason. The school's top athlete didn't take too kindly to his girlfriend wanting some space from him, so he took out his frustrations on you.

Well, on those close to you since he knew it wouldn't be good for his image to be seen harassing a girl.

You and Chrissy, along with a few other friends, are eating lunch a few tables down from the Hellfire table when you hear a commotion. Glancing towards it, you're not surprised to find Jason and his closest friends standing at the end of the Hellfire table being the ones responsible.

Whatever's going on, you can't hear but can see the frustration on the faces of your friends. The jocks, however, are smug as can be and laughing among themselves.

Then all of a sudden, Jason speaks loud for all to hear. "I got fifty bucks," he reaches into his back pocket, pulling free his wallet, "that not one girl in this cafeteria would willingly kiss any of you freaks."

The bet laid out before the students of Hawkins High is meant to embarrass those in Hellfire, but the boys are not known for backing down. Immediately they look to Mike and Lucas- two boys who are known to have girlfriends- but when they glance at Jane and Max, Max scowls at Lucas and flips them off.

The jocks laugh and just as they're about to embarrass Hellfire even more, Dustin stands up. The cafeteria quietens and the jocks grin. "YN!" Your brother calls out to you.

"What?" You call back, smirking as everyone's gaze darts between the two of you.

"You remember that thing I forbid you from doing?"

"Maybe!" Next to you, Chrissy giggles. She knows very well what Dustin forbid you from doing because she was the unfortunate soul that you whined to frequently about it.

"Well, I'm lifting the rule for thirty seconds. Make them count!"

The jocks frown as your leering gaze slides to Eddie. He arches an eyebrow at you, and you laugh before standing up. Immediately, Eddie pushes back from the table, still seated in his chair, and the rest of those in Hellfire are just as confused as the jocks.

"What the hell is going on?" Jason asks as you near.

"I just became fifty bucks richer," you tell him, snatching the crisp bill from his fingers. Then continuing on towards Eddie, you plop yourself sideways on his lap while loosely wrapping your arms around his neck. "Told you your ass was gonna be mine."

You end up smothering Eddie's laughter when you kiss him, ignoring the sudden wolf whistles and loud ruckus the Hellfire club members are making by pounding their fists on the table. You groan when his hand squeezes your thigh and then whimper when he licks into your mouth.

You're not sure how much time has passed when you feel a hand on your shoulder, pushing you away from Eddie's mouth. "Okay, okay. Break it up. You officially grossed out Jason and myself."

You laugh at your brother's words, but you can't tear your gaze away from Eddie's kiss swollen lips. With one hand still cradling his jaw, you let your thumb swipe just beneath his bottom lip. "Knew you'd be a good kisser, Munson."

"Right back at 'ya, sweetheart."

"Gross." You glance at Dustin, watching as his nose wrinkles. "You can get off his lap now."

"Or.." you trail off, holding up the fifty dollar bill, "you can take this money and let me make out with your friend for the rest of the day."

Eddie snorts, but your brother actually takes a moment to think about it. Knowing he's going to cave, you hold the money out further to him. "Only making out?"

"Only making out," you assure him.

"Fine. Whatever." He snatches the money from you. "But not in the cafeteria. I'm still trying to eat."

"Right. Got it!" You stand up, holding out a hand for Eddie. "Let's go, Munson! I'm pretty sure the back of your van is private enough."

Laughing, Eddie takes your hand and shrugs at his gaping friends. "What? Who am I to deny a pretty girl?"

[cupid-styles]

a day in the life (ymls)

it's been awhile since I've posted anything about these cuties so here's a lil blurb!!!!! hope you enjoy :)

word count: 1.3k

content warnings: family stuff, y/n is no longer pregnant BUT there's discussions of her pregnancy, giving birth, and lactating/breastfeeding

ymls masterlist

main masterlist | talk to me

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. . .

Y/N never asked Harry to live with her.

They never had a conversation about it, instead just deciding to go to her house after she and Clementine were released from the hospital because it would likely be easier to recover in her own space — all of her lactation gear was there, along with the three (3!) different pregnancy pillows Harry purchased for her throughout the duration of the pregnancy. 

But then he just never… left.

In hindsight, despite neither of them bringing it up, they both recognize that it’s a way past overdue discussion. Someone should’ve been like, “hey, I know we’ve only been dating for like four months or so and we’re having a baby together, but should we live in the same space, maybe? Just for ease of parenting and all that?”. 

Surprisingly, though, since Y/N very much appreciates her own room — she didn’t do well in college when she had a roommate in their dorm, and she’s very much an introvert that adores heading home at the end of the long day and simply being alone — she hasn’t completely hated Harry being around all the time. It’s the most that they’ve ever spent time together, a whopping three and a half weeks straight since Clementine was born.

It’s a different kind of time, though, considering a newborn’s schedule is unlike anything else. They alternate between who gets to nap during the day and while Y/N is technically cleared for recovery, she still aches like… well, like she pushed an entire body through her. (Even when she tears up looking at Clementine nearly every day, she still shudders at the thought of giving birth. Harry called it the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen and she sincerely wonders if he’s mentally well.) 

And somehow, they’ve developed a schedule that works quite well, for now at least. Clementine, their sweet little baby girl, is a decent sleeper. Per all those parenting books Harry obsessed over for nine months, she spends most of her time sleeping, with multiple feeding times throughout the day and night.

When Harry and Y/N both manage to be awake and conscious during the day, they hover over her bassinet — well, formerly in Y/N’s room, but now it seems to be Y/N’s plus Harry’s room? — quietly leaning in to make sure she’s breathing okay, admiring her cute little face, and taking pictures of the adorable onesies Harry puts her in. They have visitors, of course, including both pairs of their parents, siblings, and mutual friends. There’s a lot of crying and smiling and, oddly enough, entertaining, which is silly considering they’re still brand new parents who are working off of two- or three-hour incremental naps. 

In terms of their dynamic, things shift slightly, but Y/N is still the grump Harry adores. She’s exhausted, understandably so. The whole breastfeeding thing wreaks havoc on her body and Clementine doesn’t love it, so she tries her best to regularly pump milk for her, but she hates sitting on the couch, asking Harry to turn on some stupid reality show to distract her, and feeling the machine push and prod at her breasts. 

“This makes me feel like a cow,” she’d huffed the first time they did it, and it made Harry snort so loud he had to excuse himself from the room. 

But Harry… he’s good, even if it’s difficult for Y/N to properly communicate that to him. She knows she got very lucky with him, not just from a partnership standpoint — which, that’s an entirely different conversation that they haven’t gotten to yet — but a parenting one, too. He has no reason to get up with her at 3 am because Clem’s doing her sweet little lamb cries from the corner of their bedroom. Y/N can very easily escape to the room she designated as her nursery months back, where there’s a comfy nursing chair her mother bought her, but instead Harry’s up before Y/N’s eyes are even properly open, gently placing her in her arms and pushing a warm bottle into her hand.

He insists on helping her with every feeding, taking on more diaper changes than Y/N, and even doing his best to take care of her along the way. He helps her into the bath when her bones and joints are too achy to stand in the shower, he never complains about cooking them dinner (if Y/N orders food one more time, she thinks her bank will call her and ask if she’s been taken hostage by one of those ordering apps), and, even with her heightened hormones and emotions, she does indeed cry helplessly, salty tears leaking onto her daughter’s forehead when Harry comes home one day with a bouquet of flowers, a tidy note in the front that says “for my girls”. 

It makes him laugh so hard, the sight of his cranky girl in her milk-stained robe standing in the kitchen, gently rocking Clementine as she holds the pretty stems. 

“Why are you laughing?” Y/N sniffs, lifting her hand to quickly wipe tears away from her cheeks. 

“Because you just look so cute right now,” he says with a grin. He takes the flowers back from her, murmuring out something about putting them in a vase. 

“Sometimes I do wonder if you’re certifiably insane.” Y/N mutters, partially to herself. When she glances down at a milk drunk Clem, a smile quirks at the edges of her lips. “What do you think, Clemmie? Is dada crazy?”

Harry knows that this isn’t the traditional family he dreamed about, that having a baby with Y/N was a risk he was only willing to take because he always wanted to be a dad — but shit, he’s so happy. 

(Y/N is, too. She’s over the moon, with the way gratitude feels like it fills up her body in a way she’s never experienced before. And she knows she’s awful at expressing her feelings, but when she glances back up at Harry, eyes twinkling with a healthy blush over her cheeks and a smile on her lips, he knows. He just knows.)

[footygirl114]

Respaldar (Alexia Putellas X Reader)

Did anyone actually expect me to get the second part out so soon? I bet not, but here we are so enjoy. Part one can be found here

The first week of work was pretty low key for you. Alexia had gone from home to the training ground and back, it was an off week for games so it was relatively quiet. You had spent your first day wondering the training facility and learning the buildings. It was nice that the security was pretty decent and covered the areas you wanted already. 

The staff was very friendly and they left you to your own devices, which meant after you did a lap of the facility you found a spot higher up looking down on the field and you got to watch them train. As much as you tried to deny it to your self, it was hard to take your eyes off anyone that wasn’t Alexia. The more you watched her the more you could see why she was the captain and the best football player in the world, she was unreal. 

You had played football growing up but at 18 when you decided to join the army instead of school, you stopped playing. It didn’t mean you weren’t a fan but you didn’t have the time to follow it anymore, so this job was actually becoming a treat. 

The other benefit of this job was it gave you a lot more down time, you were able to use the facilities gym when the team was on the field. You took advantage of it and generally got a good workout in during their training session. Having perfected your routine you were able to get a work out in and zone out to the music blaring in your ears, which meant you quite often didn’t notice the others in gym. 

What you didn’t know was that they noticed you, it was the injured players that couldn’t train with the team, but they told the team all about the hot visitor that was in the gym. Within the week every player had known who you were and the brave ones were teasing Alexia about her hot babysitter. They made sure you weren’t around but when they walked out of the door talking about you and noticed you leaning on the SUV waiting for Alexia the conversation immediately dropped you knew something was up. 

“Hola Ms Putellas and teammates” You smiled a them, refusing to lift your sunglasses. It has been warm so you have taken to wearing button up shirts and dress pants, leaving the suit jacket in the car. 

You can see the blush on Alexia’s cheek and watch it deepen as her blonde haired tattooed teammate says “Oh hi gorgeous, you know Alexia is super boring, I will make sure to keep you more entertained.” 

As she finishes a tall dark haired teammate whacks her across the back of the head and says “Shut it Maria, and start the car.” 

The tattooed one is throughly chastised and moves to the car park with the tall dark haired one following with a smirk. You feel a small smirk lift the corner of your mouth as you watch Alexia walk towards you. You move to open the back door and when she stops at the door she says “the blonde one is Mapi Leon our centre back, and the tall one that put her in her place is her girlfriend Ingrid Engen, one of our Defence midfielders.” 

“thank you, I think?” you say to her, as you turn to her asking “you know there is no need to be embarrassed.” 

“I am not embarrassed Y/N.” she says and you see the blush creep on to her cheeks again as she moves to get in the back of the car. 

As you close the door you chuckle and move to get into the driver seat, you meet her eyes in the rearview mirror and say “The blush gives you away Mrs. Putellas.”

Before she has a chance to respond her phone rings and when she looks down with it, she says “I have to take this” and she answers and start talking in Catalan to someone on the other end. 

You smile to yourself and put the car in gear starting the drive home, you have to think about the upcoming event and the logistics that you need to handle in order to get her cute blush off your mind so that you can focus on the job and not her. 

**

The next two days you spend trying to focus on work only, and keep any conversations with Alexia to pleasantries only. When Saturday rolls around, the team has an early training and by lunch Alexia has a whole team in her apartment getting her dolled up for the event she has tonight. You had ran down to change and get yourself ready when Alexia was in the shower, and you had spent the last 3 hours sitting in Alexia’s kitchen with your laptop open, but also watching the people move around Alexia. 

It was fascinating to watch, you thought she looked the most gorgeous without all the makeup, but watching the crew doll her up was an experience and she looked gorgeous like this as well. When they disappeared into her room to get her into her dress, it was a formal fundraiser event where Alexia was in attendance to represent the woman’s game, you took the moment to collect yourself and remind your self how professional you need to be. 

When the team files out without Alexia, they all say their goodbyes and you walk them out leaving you alone in her front entry way. You check your phone and see a text from the driver saying he is out front ready, Turning you step back into her living room and say “Alexia, driver is here, we should be heading” before you can finish you meet her eyes from across the room and are speechless. 

You are sure you look like an idiot as you take in the way she looks in the deep blue dress fully dolled up, your eyes are running from head to toe. She moves closer and asks “Is it too much?” 

Without thinking about it you answer “No you are absolutely stunning.” 

“Thank you” she says with a blush and steps closer to you. “I have to say, the full suit is working for me Y/N” as she runs her eyes up and down your body. 

Immediately you can feel the blush move up your neck and you have to dig your nails into your palm to make yourself focus back on the job at hand and you say “we should go.” 

She nods and moves to grab her bags and slip on her shoes as she says “let’s go.” 

You both get down to the car without another word and you move to open the door, you offer her your hand to help herself get into the car and she takes it with a small smile. The sparks that run up your arm are hard to ignore but you get her into the car without incident and then move to get in the other side to sit beside her in the back seat. 

When you are about half way there, you turn to her and say “Ms Putellas, I need you to understand that if I say something about your safety here, you need to listen to me. My job is to make sure you are safe, and I need your cooperation to ensure that happens.” 

“Nothing is going to happen Y/N.” she says as she turns to you. 

“Humour me then, if something happens and I need to step in, let me and listen to me.” you tell her and you add a bit of pleading to your voice. 

She looks at you for a moment and says “okay, Y/N, but nothing will happen.” 

You smile and say “Thats the hope.” 

The car stops and you look out to see some cameras pointed at the car trying to see who’s getting out. “Damn, I didn’t think there would be this much photographers.” she says with an eye roll. 

“I can get you through them Ms. Putellas” you tell her. When she nods you say “put your hand on my back and follow me through the crowd okay?” 

“okay” she says in a small voice, before you can get out of the car, she reaches across and puts her hand on your forearm and with a small voice she says “I really dislike crowds.” 

You smile at her and move your hand to her cheek, your thumb rubbing circles as you say “I got you Alexia, just trust me.” 

She smiles and nods and says “okay, let’s go.” 

You move to get out of the car and you elbow your way through the crowd to get to her door, you open the door and make sure your body is blocking the view as you ask “you ready?” 

Nodding she says “I know you got me.” With a smile you turn and wait for her place her hand on your back. You start moving slowly and wait for her to balance behind you, she’s got a hand on your shoulder and one on your hip balancing her self. You have to dig your nails into your palm again to focus on the job and not how nice her hands feel through your suit jacket. 

When you look back and meet her eyes with a smile and she nods you start to move forward. As soon as she’s in the view you feel the hand on her hip drop as her name is shouted from every side, the one on your shoulder squeezes and you can see her free hand waving to the crowd. You use your training and push through the crowd and when you get about halfway there you can feel two more security guards from the venue push their way through and make you both a path through. 

When your free of the crowd she squeezes your shoulder and moves to stand beside you on her own, meeting your eyes for a moment with a soft smile you see her facade fall into place, and the soft moment from the car is forgotten. She moves into the venue and you follow behind, once she’s in the main banquet room you do a sweep of the room with your eyes and keep your attention on the exits noting security at every one. 

Smiling internally you know she should be okay here, and you wait till she’s seated before you move to the wall behind her table but a bit away and lean on it watching, but out of sight of most of the guests. Before the speeches start Alexia turns her head and looks around and when she meets your eyes you see the small nod and smile, and you can’t help but to wink at her with a smile. 

The rest of the night is uneventful, until it’s time to leave, you see Alexia move to get up and she meets your eyes and nods towards the bathroom. You nod back and watch her disappear through the door where there is a security guard in place. A few minutes later you have your eyes locked on that door waiting for her to come through them, when she doesn’t you trust your instincts and move to pass through them. 

When the security guard on the door moves to stop you, you flash him a glare and push past him. What you see in the hallway makes your blood boil. Alexia has her back flat against the wall with two men in her space with recording devices held up to her face, you notice their free hands holding her wrists on the wall. You take stock of how to handle this, you aren’t worried about your safety just hers. 

Moving closer to them, when you get within arms distance you say “hey you” and when the first turns to you you grab him by the shoulder immediately pushing the heel of your hand into his nose and he howls in pain and grabs his nose releasing his grip, once he’s bent over you raise your foot and kick him hard in between the legs where he falls and gasps. 

Unfortunately it took you a moment to deal with the first one, that the second noticed the commotion and turns once you stand and says “you bitch” and you see the punch coming and you have a second to brace yourself against it to lessen the blow. 

The force makes you step back and when he moves to you, you can see Alexia over his shoulder looking with wide eyes and you yell out “Alexia go back to the ballroom now” as you finish he tries to throw another punch and you immediately grab is arm and duck back using his own momentum to put him in an arm hold behind his back and you press him against the wall. 

You have your body weight pining him to wall as you hear footsteps behind you and 3 security guards coming towards you. Once you turn and see the guard who came out to help you with crowd control you nod and let him take control of the guy you attacked you. 

Stepping back you wipe you nose and lip and see the blood on your hand as the second guard grabs the guy whining on the floor and the third steps up to you and says “we called the police, they should be here soon, they were on standby for anything to happen her.” 

“thank you” you say. 

He chuckles and asks “need a job? I am impressed you could take out two guys double your size.” 

Smiling you nod saying “Most people underestimate me that way.” 

Before he can answer you, you feel someone move right up to you and press a clean towel on to your face and hold it to your bloody lip. You meet Alexia’s eye as she says quietly “they’re bringing you ice.” 

You nod and move to grab it but she shakes her head holding the towel to your face still and you tell her “I am okay. Are you okay?” 

“You saved me Y/N” she says with a small smile. 

Before you can say anything else you hear footsteps and look up to see the police coming towards you. Moving to grab the towel from her hand, you step past her and meet the officers. 

Almost an hour later, where you refused to let Alexia leave your line of sight you are both done with the police and they release you to go home. They had allowed you to clean up your face and you noticed how your eye was going to bruise, but you do not need any stitches which is a relief. Once you are both sat in the car on the way back, you take a moment to relax back in the seat and close your eyes. You can feel her watching you but you know this is not the time for this conversation. 

After a tense ride, you follow her into the lobby and move to go to your apartment, but she reaches out and squeezes your forearm and asks softly “I don’t want to be alone tonight, will you come up with me?” 

“Is there someone I can call for you Ms Putellas?” you ask trying to maintain the professional side. 

Shaking her head she says “You make me feel safe Y/N, I can sleep on the couch, I just don’t want to be alone.” 

Nodding you hold your arm out letting her go first to her elevator as you both wait for it you say “But only if I take the couch.” 

Chuckling she smiles and you both ride the elevator in silence. Once you get into her apartment you silently follow her as she kicks off her shoes and goes into the kitchen, where she grabs two glasses and a bottle of wine, she pours you both one and then hands it to you saying “I am going to change, I’ll be right back.” 

You nod and grab the glass, removing your blazer you roll your sleeves up and unbutton the top button. Other than that you stay standing in her kitchen, the whole scene running through your head wondering why the heck you didn’t protect her. You can feel the tears in the corners of your eyes and when she walks out in pjs you have to look up at the ceiling to control the tears. 

“oh Y/N” you hear and when she moves closer to you, you meet her eyes and cannot take the comfort you see reflected in them. 

You shake your head and say “no please Ms Putellas I can’t” as you move away from her and press your back against her cabinets. 

She steps closer and softly says “It’s okay Y/N, you do not need to pretend here.” 

Shaking your head again you look up at the ceiling as you say “I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you.” 

Feeling her step closer but not touch she says softly again “you did Y/N.” 

“It shouldn’t have come to that.” you say but you still haven’t looked at her. 

She steps closer and reaches up to put both hands on your cheeks, she softly pulls your face down to meet her eyes and says “you did Y/N, I am here un harmed because of you.” She then uses her thumb to run over the cut on your lip and she softly says “you put your self on the line for me, you could have been seriously hurt, so thank you for protecting me.” 

Looking into her eyes, you can see the comfort reflected and you want to lose your self in them, when she leans in to close the distance you can feel her breath on your lips. Before they meet you slowly push back and say “I can’t right now Alexia.”

She lets you pull away, but only far enough to meet your eyes as she says “its okay Y/N, tonight has been a lot. Since I saw you come to rescue me all I wanted was to wrap you in my arms to thank you.” 

You chuckle and pull her into you wrapping her up and you whisper into her ear “I will always protect you Alexia” and you press a kiss to her hair. You stand there thinking about how things could have ended differently, but you are glad the night ended with her in your arms. 

[lizardaggro]

on the flip side (twst bully!au) pt 3

here we are, the long-awaited (it was literally like 1 day) part 3!! i wanted to declare on one of the actual chapters since those get seen by the most people that I DID NOT MAKE THIS AU, credit i believe goes to @azulsluver. i swear i don't hate you guys, leaving everything on a cliffhanger, but the good news is i have a lot of time on my hands due to chronic illness so i can update super often. also i gave up on the purple theme on posts bc tumblr hates me and always leaves the end of the word count black.

part 1 part 2

genre: gn reader, angst trigger warnings: bullying, mild yandere (will be escalating throughout the series, but no non-con) word count: 1246

You couldn’t really afford to space out and think about it though, not when he was right in front of you. Riddle tapped his foot impatiently, clearly irate at your lack of response. “Well?” He asked. “Do you not even have anything to say in your defense?”

Oh dear. However were you supposed to get rid of him when he was so intent on getting some sort of answer out of you? You had no idea what he wanted! He was more difficult to threaten, too, since you’d made up your mind that you didn’t want to be like your tormentors and completely ruin others’ lives. No, your end goal was just to make them leave you alone. After everything you’d been through, you really didn’t want to see them again.

It might seem strange to some people, that you weren’t dead set on destroying any semblance of normalcy they once had. You had all the ammunition you needed, of course. The Overblot victims would be the easiest to topple, considering what they’d done in and leading up to that state. But you didn’t think you were a particularly vengeful person; at least, you didn’t want to be. Crowley had always said that you must’ve been sent here to get his precious students to work together, so clearly you weren’t like them.

“I never asked for this, Riddle. Any of this. So if you think somewhere in your fucked-up mentality that you’re doing me some sort of favor, you’re dead wrong,” you intoned. Indeed, even though you just wanted them gone, you missed the days when you were all friends. Back when you thought everyone had your back no matter what. Oh, if only you knew what they’d do for you. It wouldn’t be hard at all to push some of the more unstable students over the edge. Those who felt they didn’t have anyone else. Much like a certain dragon fae who never did seem to get invited to things.

Riddle looked like he was about to say something, but before he could, he was drenched by a great torrential rain. Where did that come from? Didn’t the forecast say it was supposed to be clear skies and sunny for the rest of the week? Your question was soon answered, as you had two more visitors.

“Silver? Sebek? What brings you here?” You inquired, not at all amused. When those two showed up at the same time, it could only mean one thing, and it wasn’t good. Riddle looked like he had caught on as well, since he stepped in front of you, as if that would do any good.

“LORD MALLEUS REQUESTS YOUR PRESENCE!!” Sebek boomed. You’d made progress on his volume in the past, so you were sure he did it just to annoy you. Silver just stared. He always stared, you felt like. Sometimes you swore you could feel his eyes on you even when he was nowhere to be found.

“Oh, gee, I wonder what that’s about,” you snarked. “Poor little princey-poo doesn’t want his embarrassing little secrets getting out? Well you can tell him to fuck off.” You must’ve been feeling especially brave, since normally you knew that defying Malleus Draconia was as good as a death sentence. He wasn’t even that bad, compared to some of the others. He just… locked you in his room and made you listen to him talk, with no room to get a word in edgewise. He’d go on and on about one thing or another for HOURS, with no regard for your schedule or your bodily needs. Clearly fae had a different sense of time than most.

It was the loss of control over your own life that you hated; that, and that if he really still considered you a friend, he never bothered to do anything about your bullies. You knew he was more than capable; you’d witnessed his strength firsthand on multiple occasions. You didn’t know what his endgame was, and frankly you were too scared to find out. He could trap you there forever and you wouldn’t be able to do a single thing about it.

Sebek was not amused. He raised an arm, likely to strike you, but Silver placed a hand on it, effectively stopping him. “Don’t. You wouldn’t want Lord Malleus to see a bruise on them,” he reasoned. You didn’t get it. Since when would he care? Sebek roughly shoved Riddle out of the way, despite all his objections, and nonchalantly slung you over his shoulder.

“What the hell?!” You screeched, pounding your fists on his back. “Put me down! I’m not going!” You weren’t sure why you were objecting so vehemently; this time wasn’t any different than the others. But something about the dark gray clouds pouring rain on what should’ve been a lovely day just told you that this was not going to be good.

But alas, your plight was ignored. The three of you made your way to Diasomnia in silence. No one bothered to stop and stare in the halls, as you being carried off by people was somewhat of a normal occurrence. You could swear Savannahclaw and Diasomnia even had some sort of twisted capture-the-flag game going, for whatever reason.

When you entered the gothic-style castle, you were greeted by none other than Lilia. Much like Malleus, he’d never bothered you too terribly, only engaging in less-than-welcome pranks. You knew he was far older than he let on, so you supposed he didn’t see the point in such childish endeavors. There was, however, one thing you feared about the man: his cooking, which he tried to shove down your throat at every opportunity. How Silver grew up healthy you’d never know.

And so, of course, you were greeted by a plate of… well, goop, to put it nicely. “Here, have a seat, dear, I made lasagna,” Lilia offered with what you assumed was supposed to be a warm smile. To you in that moment, with the fumes starting to reach your nose, it looked like a shit-eating grin.

“I’ll pass, thanks. That is to say, I’d rather die than eat that shit, because it looks and smells like it’ll send me straight to hell,” you deadpanned. Sebek let out an unholy screech and started ranting about how dare you refuse Lord Lilia, even though you knew he wouldn’t want to eat it either. You did your best to tune him out. Silver looked relieved, surprisingly enough. You supposed he was able to empathize since he grew up eating the stuff.

Luckily for you, Lilia just sighed and walked off, taking his culinary abomination with him. The three of you who remained shared a look. “How are you still alive after all these years?” You asked Silver. He shrugged. If even he didn’t know, you’d just call it a miracle.

“SILVER, QUIT FRATERNIZING WITH THE ENEMY! LORD MALLEUS IS WAITING!” Sebek practically screamed in your ear. You really wished he would stop doing that. But you had more important things to worry about, like your impending death by dragon fae. Once you arrived at Malleus’s room, Sebek set you down and pushed you inside. You heard the lock click behind you. You gulped, feeling the pressure of being alone in a room with a presumably angry and very powerful mage. You looked up to see a pair of emerald eyes staring you down. Oh boy, this was not going to be fun.

taglist: @twistedcece @slxt4h1m @teawhere @pleasehugmeaether @reivelmin @aoiyx

[earthtooz]

. . . LOVE ME HARDER !

in which: it's been two weeks. you have a resignation letter in hand and a grumpy itoshi sae who is not at all pleased at your decision.

˗ˏˋ masterlist series: first part | next part ´ˎ˗

collab series ft. sixosix earthtooz aanobrain . . . !

warnings: gn!manager!reader, pining, reader and sae r in their 20s, tension, so much pining, unedited towards the end but that's bc i have no time AHH.

"are you sure?"

you stare sadly at the two weeks resignation letters in your boss’ hand, blinking once, then twice as a heavy feeling of regret sinks in your chest, further powered by the jumbled thoughts in your brain, screaming at you to say both ‘yes’ and ‘no’. with an exhale, you listen to your heart and nod your head decisively.

“i’m sure,” you affirm. sae’s face flashes briefly in your mind and you cringe internally at the look of betrayal you can see so clearly. still, you grit your teeth and don’t back out.

“we can give you a raise or extra company benefits if that’s more motivation to stay?” instinctively, a materialistic part of you is ready to give in to the offers, but the rational part of you begs otherwise. “we haven’t had a worker like you who has been able to cooperate with sae this well.”

“thank you for the opportunity, sir, but i think it’s time to move on.”

your boss gives you a pointed look before putting down your papers with a sigh. “if that’s the case then i can’t stop you. you were a good asset, y/n, good luck with your future endeavours.”

with a thank you, you make your way out of the office, a heavy dread settling in your chest as you think about how sae would take this news. how would you tell him? you’re not that heartless that you’d just leave without letting him know but what would you say? ‘hey these are my last two weeks as your manager, lol’.

“you’re late,” a voice interrupts your thoughts and you snap back into reality, greeted with the face of itoshi sae, his usual apathy masking the subtle displeasure you can hear in his tone. you ignore the way your heart jumps simply at the sight of him. 

maybe putting in those resignation forms was for the best.

“sorry. had to speak to management,” you mutter out. 

the magenta-haired athlete narrows his eyes in suspicion but before he could ask you another question, you sit down in front of him and open up your diary with the schedule for the day. “okay. let’s see what needs to get done today.”

you ignore the way sae stares at you like he has something to say and you hope he’s not observant enough to see that you’re avoiding looking him in the eye as much as possible because you’d know your heart would give out from the pressure. 

two weeks. two more weeks and you’ll escape itoshi sae forever, no matter how much you don’t want to.

***

you’re on the sidelines where sae is practising, furiously typing out an email on your laptop when your name gets called out, the voice coming from the entranceway of the field. it’s your boss but there’s a man of average height right behind him, dressed smartly with glasses and equipment fit for an office worker. 

he must be sae’s new manager after you’re gone. bless him.

straightening up, you close the lid of your laptop before setting it aside, getting up to greet him with a small hop in your step. you ignore the way sae has stopped practising at the entrance of someone new. feeling of his inquisitive gaze burning into your every move lingers as you approach the visitors. 

“y/n, this is girolan dabadie, he’ll be sae’s manager after you leave,” your boss states, gesturing to the man behind who gives you a humble wave, paired with a friendly smile. oh poor soul. you can tell he does not have the guts to work with sae.

then again, not a lot of people do. you included, which is why you’re resigning.

“hi, i’m y/n, pleasure to meet you.”

“pleasure to meet you too,” he says.

“we just thought it’d be nice for girolan here to get prepared with the ropes of his role before being thrown in the deep end next week.”

“of course, i’ll be more than happy to get you started, it is a tough job after all,” you say lightheartedly despite the last part being a sugarcoating of how truly draining it is to be sae’s manager.

and, speaking of the devil, you don’t like the way your gut churns, turbulent waves settling in your stomach in a way that makes you feel funny when you look sae in the eye. he’s staring at you so very intensely that if you hadn’t looked away immediately after, you suspect you would have combusted on the spot. there are questions that he wants answer to and judging by the glimpse of betrayal in his eyes, you can tell that it is not going to be a conversation you’ll like having. 

for now, you grit your teeth and put on a professional front. this is why you were leaving, because sae looks at you too casually, too much, and you, similarly, know him too much, too casually. 

leaving the training field, you can’t help but feel like you’re also leaving something meaningful behind.

“everyday you need to have the player’s schedules. most of them have promotions which you need to manage, so for example, sae has a shoot for adidas abibas next week. all you have to do is go to the shoot with him and foresee everything, the set managers there have that all under control, the only thing you need to control is itoshi sae himself,” you tell girolan halfway into the tour, now in your office space where you had schedules hung up everywhere. “these cabinet files are full of contracts, tax files, cash flows, all of the stuff that i have no doubt you’re familiar with.” 

“all of these just for itoshi sae?” girolan asks, looking at the stacks of paper on your desk. 

you sigh, slumping. “that’s what happens when you manage one of the most in-demand soccer players. don’t tell anyone but, it’s easier to manage the whole team than sae himself.”

eventually, the tour continues and you lead him through the rest of the spaces that he should know by heart. when you think you’re done with the introduction, it’s around 4:30, and you see girolan out to the main entrance. 

“any questions? you can have my contact so that if you have any queries or concerns, you can reach out to me over the week,” you say, handing the new manager your card.

“i appreciate the crash course today, but admittedly i’m still a little nervous,” girolan confesses, “i mean, i saw first hand just how busy you are… any personal advice for the job?”

“just… good luck. it’s a handful but it’s a good experience nevertheless. at the end of the day, i’m more grateful for this role than i am not.” 

“if that’s the case, why are you leaving?”

you widen your eyes, unprepared for that question. girolan catches on to your shock and immediately begins to apologise, afraid that he’s overstepped. “no, no, it’s okay, it’s a valid question. i’m leaving for personal reasons, ones that i can’t really go into.”

“i see.” 

after that, you briefly say goodbye to one another, exchanging pleasantries before he leaves the building. you sigh in relief, looking down at your watch to see that you only had 20 minutes now to catch up on the outstanding work you left behind, an incredibly unrealistic time limit. you can already tell you’re going to work overtime tonight.

before you can dwell too much on that fact, a voice pops up from behind you.

“personal reasons?”

you turn around to see sae leaning against a wall behind you, completely unimpressed and disappointed. you hate it when he looks at you like that.

“yes, sae, for personal reasons,” you mutter, hardening your defences before walking past him. that doesn’t shake him off though, nothing ever does.

“and what personal reasons could that be?” he asks, not batting an eye to being waved off by you like that.

you walk a little faster. “they are personal reasons, sae, meaning that they’re none i should ever tell you.”

pushing open the door to your office with more force required, you don’t see the way sae flinches slightly at your outburst, furrowing his brows at how uncharacteristic you were acting. he doesn’t shy away though, following you into your office. you continue sorting through papers like he’s not there and that irks him even more.

“but how could you not tell me? i thought you resigning would be an important topic to bring up sooner rather than later.”

“i didn’t think you’d care.”

“so?” he spits. “i would rather you tell me than me finding out myself by seeing some random who is apparently my new manager.”

you cringe at his words. “okay well, i’m resigning as your manager. happy? be nice to girolan.”

sae groans. “were you just going to let me find out by myself in a week if today hadn’t happened? were you ever going to tell me?”

you shrug, punching some holes through some papers before adding them to an (already filled) binder. “maybe.” 

sae grabs your wrist and you jump from the contact, as if his touch was lava and burns. the magenta-haired doesn’t miss your reaction, in fact, he narrows his eyes at you when he notices. you make the mistake of looking him in the eye and the churn in your stomach is back, heart skipping a beat as your hand goes limp in his.

this must be what they call a ‘moment’ in the movies, because you’re definitely having one right now, and it’s getting harder to keep your resolve up. 

“sae, please leave. i’m trying to finish up these tasks before the day ends and you’re really disturbing me,” you grumble, trying not to let your voice waver. glancing away from sae, you slip your wrist out of his grasp and step away, creating some distance.

“is it something i did?” he asks. “if you’re not leaving because of the job itself then it must be the person, right? did i do something to upset you?”

“why do you care?”

“i have every right to, you’re my manager.” 

“i won’t be in a week.”

“that’s a week away, you are still my manager right now and i want to know why it is you’re leaving.”

“can you not take the hint, sae? i don’t want to tell you!” you exclaim, shutting the filing drawer with a little more force than necessary.

“i won’t leave until you tell me.”

“you will actually hate me if i tell you.”

“i will hate you if you don’t tell me.”

“well then it doesn’t matter.”

“yes it does. if you’re just gonna leave me behind then i can’t see why you can’t tell m-”

“-if i tell you will you leave?” you snap. the silence is deafening, with sae widening his eyes in shock at your outburst. he nods firmly. “i like you. in more than a professional way. that’s why.”

turning around to the filing cabinet again, you reach out to pull the drawer with shaky hands, a racing heart, and a swirling stomach. 

“now that i’ve told you, could you please leave?” you omit to tell him that you can’t look him in the eye. not anymore now that you’ve effectively ruined whatever-was-going-on between you and the star athlete.

footsteps echo behind you, drawing near with each click of sae’s shoes. you stiffen when they stop right behind you and there’s a moment of quiet, allowing you to hear sae shuffle behind you, a hesitant hand reaches out to cover yours, gently pulling it away from the cabinet to turn you around instead.

you don’t look him in the eye, glancing at every inch of the walls in your office just to avoid him. sae frowns at your evasion.

“can you look me in the eye so i don’t sound stupid saying what i’m about to say?” he asks, a little gentler than his usual, demanding tone, but still cold enough that your gaze cuts to meet his.

“you always sound stupid,” you mutter without thinking. 

sae scrunches his face in judgement. “seriously? i was gonna say something you’d like to hear to. way to go for ruining it.” 

“what, no! tell me!”

“i don’t think you deserve to know anymore, stupid.”

“hey! if i had to tell you then it’s only fair if-”

“-i like you too.”

that zips you up and a glimpse of mirth shines in sae’s eyes, paired with an almost-unnoticeable quirk of his lips upward. 

“you do?” you stammer in disbelief. 

“yeah.” 

“oh.”

“yeah.”

there’s a pregnant silence between you two. no one ever really tells you what to do in scenarios like this, and the one time you’d like to use your brain and not embarrass yourself in front of sae, your mind decides to see itself out. “that’s… cool.”

“that’s all you have to say?”

“what, do you have more to add?”

“not really apart from inviting you to dinner with me.” 

“when?”

“tonight.”

“tonight?” you parrot. “i can’t, i have so many tasks left to finish!”

“just leave them behind.”

“i can’t! i should get them done before i leave.”

“you leave in a week, then none of these tasks are your problem anymore.”

“that’s really not the best way to think about this, sae.”

“so thank goodness you’re my manager and not someone else.”

you narrow your eyes at him, immediately knowing what he was implying. “don’t think that this is a reason for me to stay being your manager. in fact, i’d argue that i now have more reasons to quit.” 

with a ‘tch’, the soccer player rolls his eyes. “okay whatever, we’re grabbing dinner and that’s final.” he threads your hands together. “c’mon, sweets, let’s go.”

[suguruplsr]

Let me be your cure

featuring.. Alhaitham

✰ ✰ ✰ You gave up on love after being affected with the infamous hanahaki. With pity and sadness slowly swallowing your life whole, you end up in the hospital. Reluctant to getting surgery. And your boring, sadly hot, doctor doesn't seem to care. At least until he finds himself thinking about you.

,, x fem!reader , reader had an ex fiancé who was shitty , fluff w/ angst + comfort , mentions of blood and bruises (caused by the disease) , purely fictional! i know nothing about how hospitals actually operate or if things in my story are or are not allowed! so as you read, remember its purely fictional!

+ disease used is called hanahaki! and it is fictional, and used in many fictional stories, like mine. in shorter terms, a character affected by this disease coughs up flowers and, usually, blood, because of rejection or the loved character not loving them, (without it being said too!). it’s mostly solved with the loved character realizing their love for mc and saving them. or in other cases, the mc getting surgery and losing feelings for the loved character.

↬ 1K Event Masterlist

wc: 5K+

- divider @/benkeibear

“Why are you staring?" You huff, making the gray-haired man in front of you nearly lose his composure. There’s no reason why someone like him should be stuck with some bratty woman. Okay, maybe he should have some sympathy. considering it’s a part of his job. “Ma’am, I'm just evaluating your physical health by sight for now.” You groan, turning your head away.

You’re literally going to die within this year and You can’t even at least get someone who is a bit more bubbly and nice to be around! not some cold guy with looks that could kill.

His eyes were unique. like targets or darts, probably? Your confuzzled mind couldn’t make sense of most things at the moment, but you felt strange underneath his gaze. intimidated. even without looking at him.

“Maybe if you wiped that scowl off your face, you wouldn't be in this situation. Probably drove the guy off." Alhaitham mutters. Yeah, yeah, it’s unprofessional, but he wasn’t disappointed with your reaction. His eyes lingered around your face, noticing how your tired, red eyes widened. But your lips curled, as if satisfied, mixing with the disbelief in your words. "Oh, you must be the funniest one around. What? Was I supposed to just smile? Say, 'Oh, I don’t mind, you’re fucking your secretary! Let’s plan our honeymoon, though!’ And hope to continue our romantic story?” You sneer, rolling your eyes dramatically.

“Well, it clearly didn’t work.” Alhaitham almost snickers. finding amusement in your extroverted attitude. He jots down a few more noticeable signs of your defect. Your lips look like they’ve been bit a lot, your nails are brittle, and your hair is frizzy and not taken care of. These are pretty normal things that the nurses should be able to help with. But he does eye the areas that aren’t just normal, like the bruises that reached to your neck or the ones on your arms that the gown does little to hide.

As you ramble on about your not-so-perfect love story, Alhaitham flips through the history of your visitors. It’s been three weeks since you were hospitalized, and there has been only one visitor since the day you came. which he’d assume was your mother or father. “Not a lot of friends or family?” He interrupts, his tone maybe a tiny bit softer than how firm it usually is. simply out of respect, of course. “Yeah, well, when you choose to die on your hill, not everyone wants to watch." You chuckle, smiling a bit.

He’d think that smile wouldn’t meet your eyes—cliche, right? But it did—a smile that wasn't too happy and an expression that wasn't too happy. But he merely hums in agreement, having no words of comfort and fixing his binder.

“Anyways, a female doctor will come and do a physical inspection before we prepare for your x-ray appointment in a few days. Although it seems that the roots of the flower may be growing and causing damage from the inside, His words make you waver, looking down at your lap. Was this really a good choice? It’s probably too late for surgery—not like you want one, but...

Alhaitham studies the visible emotions crossing your face before heading towards the door. “Make sure you ask for some food; you’re heavily malnourished."

The next few weeks have been bland. You wake up around 10 AM, and usually the nurse you’ve learned to call, Ms.Candace, is bringing your food inside and having a small conversation with you. Eventually, she begins the morning routine, doing your hair with a nice side of warm herbal tea. Chapstick, nails, and a light pair of pajamas, and then talking about what you’d like to do for the rest of your day.

But just when you think you won't ever have to see that snobby doctor,

“Unfortunately for you, you won’t be able to go outside.” Alhaitham steps into the room, clipboard in hand, and shoots a look of no remorse towards your huff. “And why not? I haven’t seen the light of day for what feels like months."You scoff, making the blue-haired woman beside you sigh. "Well, miss, your body is already becoming slower, and there’s signs you are getting weaker in general. I'm sure he’s just wanting to prevent your state from getting any worse.” Yet her sweet words do little to calm the bubbling feeling within your chest.

You shake your head as she goes to walk out, giving the gray-haired man one more look before the door closes. He ignores it, “Anyway, after the results of your recent checkups, the estimate of how much time you have left to live was determined. but I doubt it’ll affect you considering you’re one stubborn woman." Alhaitham raises his eyebrows at you, anticipating your rebuttal before you can even get it out. but instead, you suddenly get into a fit of coughs. It’s like an eruption within your chest. the tiny tree within, sending an array of attacks.

You hate it—the prickly feeling that wells up, like knives cutting your insides as flowers sputter and fall into the palm of your hand. Your eyes water from the odd sensation you’ve lived with, and you question yourself with the same old question you uttered the day you made your decision.

Was it worth it?

Was it worth sticking with a man who never had to even speak of his loss of love for you? The yellow carnations were enough. Symbolizing the rejection you’ve faced from him, something you never thought you’d ever have to endure after your relationship was taken to the next level,

Alhaitham had grabbed the new form of medication you were going to start using, a syringe filled with yellow liquid. He grabs your arm, his eyes quickly traversing around your body, especially your throat, for signs that may be more alarming than they should be. He looks into your eyes, seeing the panic and fear that have swelled within them. “I know it hurts, but breathe...” He whispers, keeping your arm firmly still as the syringe prickles into your skin. You look away in fright. You hate needles, but you hate this even more.

The spiky feeling in your throat slowly subsides as you spit out some blood. "I'm fine now...” Your croaky voice makes him jeer, swiftly grabbing a band-aid for the little spot of blood on your arm. "You aren’t. You’re, quite literally, dying. Although it seems like you may be dying way faster than I thought.” He sighs, moving around the room and grabbing a few of your medications. “We'll have to give you stronger medication to reduce the pain. I'll have Ms. Candace and a few other people come help you," he says, leaving almost as quickly as he came.

The nurses come in within a short time, the room bustling with movement and questions being directed towards you. The blood staining the pretty gold ring on your finger makes you finally wake up.

You’re actually dying.

And it’s for a man who swears he could never love you again.

Oh, how tricky fate can be with those stupid I love you's.

“How’re you feeling?” Alhaitham mumurs. You’ve been ignoring the man who sat in front of you, all silent, ever since the fiasco yesterday. You could only stare down at the ring around your finger, twisting it and sometimes daring to fully shed it off your finger.

You don’t have the guts to do that, even if he did. without any hesitation either.

“With how much you talk, I'm surprised you aren’t yelling at me for just existing.” He muses, his eyes flickering from his clipboard up to where you sit on the hospital bed. You don’t have the energy to banter with him, "I'm not that childish.” “You’d be surprised." His mutter makes you jolt, your face twisting into a pout.

“It sounds like you just have a problem with me!” you gibe. but Alhaitham’s eyebrow raises. as if you hit the target with that one. "Possibly," he mumbles, focusing back on the papers in front of him. Your fusses fall dead on his ears.

His problem with you wasn’t bad—more like pity. Something he rarely feels for patients, only understanding their situations, giving affirmations, and moving on. but he finds your situation simply ridiculous. Not only are you dying for a man who left you for another, but he doesn’t even have the respect to pay for your medical fees. Not to mention, literally, your mother was the one who paid, only stating to him that she has no plans on visiting and that he was allowed to do whatever once you died.

What a heartless woman!

“Since you’re so absorbed in that paper—“ “You must not have an ‘off’ button.” His eye twitches at the tone of your annoyance, all sickly and sweet. He could practically hear the joke Cyno would make. "Actually, I do. and it’s counting down. Speaking of, you never told me how long I have left.” Okay, maybe you were a bit funny. and it’s something that should definitely not make his lips almost form into a smile. However, he clears his throat, not bothering to flip through the mountain of pages. considering he already memorized the information. “Two months at least. With the rate at which your body is deteriorating, the best you’ll be able to last is maybe an extra week or two.

Alhaitham’s stomach strangely twists at the sight of your mood dampening once again. your head looking back down to your arms, and your lips pressed tightly together. But it wasn’t like he cared; it’s just interesting to see how fast the light can disappear from one’s eyes. something he realized long ago that he'd see a lot of.

It’s probably just from how tense the room got all of a sudden. nothing he can’t handle.

Before you know it, droplets of tears fall onto the blanket bunched around your lap, like a rainfall that just doesn't stop. no matter how fast you bring your hands up to wipe them away. "Sorry, I'm just going—" “Go ahead. I see it every day." Alhaitham doesn’t let you argue. He pulls out a small handkerchief from his chest pocket, inscribed with the letter A in cursive. but he doesn’t mind your slight humiliation, or whatever it is making you uncomfortable in front of him, looking away and grabbing a piece of paper.

Once your blurry eyes are clear, you see that he has left you in silence, leaving behind a sheet of paper. clutching the white cloth, you read the words, a smile blooming on your face. Make a bucket list.

“Abiding by our policies, you can’t get your nails painted.” Alhaitham shuts down the 20th idea you had. He sat in the chair in front of you, avoiding the glare you threw at him and skimming through the third row. Maybe she should’ve predicted that a dying person would want to do exactly, one hundred and one, things before their death.

But it’s not like he’s done this before.

"Okay, what, can I do?!” You huff, already fed up with the word ‘no’. "Well, since you can’t go out, we can watch that movie, ’scream’, here." Alhaitham sighs, watching how your whole mood lit up, your eyes almost sparkling. This is going to be a long two months.

“mhm! what else.” You giggle, clapping your hands together. It’s almost comical to him to see how expressive you are. Looking back down at the paper he held, he began picking out some of the activities you would be able to do.

And in the end, you ended up winning him over in a few things, like being able to use some make-up for fun, more movies, specific snacks that you’ll have to eat at very specific times, board games that you convinced him to play with you, and basically anything and everything that you can do with the tiny little home of your room.

You even managed to persuade the silver-haired man to let you get some press-on nails. nails, which Candace, thankfully, went out to buy. but surprisingly, the doctor decided to put them on you himself. since Ms.Candace was attending to another patient and he had some free time. Well, at least that was his excuse. Not like you know, he was simply curious to see your excitement over something so small.

“That one fits the ring finger more.” You correct Alhaitham again, making him squint his eyes, mumbling under his breath, and moving his fingers to hold your hand firmer. And you just so happen to be right. He sets it aside carefully, putting it in the line of pretty pink and black gemmed nails. He picks up the last smaller nail, the one that finally fits your index finger perfectly.

“Isn’t it pretty?” You smile, adoring the nails, as he concentrates on applying the fake nails. He gives a low tsk, a faux look of confusion on his face. "Well, I dunno, they’re kinda...” he trails off, a neatly structured, stoic expression on his face that makes you roll your eyes. “They’re cute!” “If you say so.” Your adorable little glare makes him want to egg you on, but he stays silent for now.

Wait— Adorable? Maybe he has a headache from your nagging or something; there is nothing to worry about now.

You study his expression unknowingly; your eyes just so happened to need something to latch onto. And he’s clearly got a nice view. better than the nails. The small scrunch of his eyebrows is obviously dedicated to something so simple that it almost concerns you. Even the way he holds your hands up is tender, contrasting with his slightly calloused hands. He has a beautiful face too, and you think you can see some muscles hidden under his coat.

Sculpted so gorgeously. Funny, for such a snarky man.

“How old are you?” You blurt out, looking up at him as he glances at you in confusion. “Why?” He asks softly, almost done with your second hand as you contemplate. “Just curious.” “Curiosity killed the” “but satisfaction brought it back.” You finish before he can fully say the little saying. A small smirk of victory forms on your lips when he gives you a look that just radiates sass.

“Twenty-seven.” He gruffed. Perfect. “How did you even become a doctor so young?" You question him, a look of surprise crossing your face as he shrugs. “A few golden opportunities.” “Wait, are you not going to ask me how old I am?” You’re so clueless, Alhaitham thinks. “I’m your doctor. You must really not have a brain.” And you scoff at his words, but yet another question pops into your head. “Anyways! Favorite color?” “Are you serious, right now?" “If you don’t answer, I will personally file a complaint." "Green."

You two eventually ended up having a long conversation, with you asking him questions and him answering reluctantly. But what made it so long was him turning it on you and asking a few questions that you gladly responded to. All the while, he held one of your hands, not ever thinking to let go and just studying the ring you still wear. What a bubbly woman you are.

Alhaitham nearly let a curse out to the man who wronged you when you mentioned him once. He doesn’t care much, but how can someone be so stupid?

Alhaitham looks at the time on his watch. Two-thirty. Zipping up his lunch box, he heads towards the elevator, making a small stop in the room full of medicines. He ignores the calls in his name from other doctors or nurses who simply want to know more about the quiet man. He hates spending his breaks around people. Sadly, this just so happens to be one of the times when he’d love to have his headphones.

But duty calls.

He taps the button to go to the ninth floor, where your room is. Today is your movie day. That just so happened to land on Friday, the thirteenth too. He swipes through his notes, finding the password to his Hulu subscription. He only bought that for the movie series you like to watch on the smart TV installed in your room. *’Scream’ was it? Today you two were watching the fifth one, and you somehow logged him out for the third time within a week. Ms. Candace said you were snooping through the account settings or something like that.

What a hassle you are!

He reaches the high floor after a few seconds, making his way to your room and memorizing the password that he surprisingly always forgets. But, when he opens the door, he’s greeted with the sight of you fast asleep. Something makes him dread the energy you’ll have later in the evening, but he’s mindful of your rest. Placing his bags on the table silently and taking off his coat, he put it on the hook of the door.

The silence within your room is nice, for once. Usually, only the tension of your attitude or sadness would lie in the silence of this room. But only your light snores and the small drag of a chair were heard. Alhaitham moves to sit in a corner, thinking about leaving and having an extended break or waiting for you until you wake. But he picks the latter, crossing his arms and legs, leaning back, and letting his eyes drift onto your figure.

His mind was maybe a bit more active than before. He doesn’t know why, but he finds himself thinking of you more often: your health, your many expressions, your cheeky smiles, the dumb stuff that comes out of your mouth, and your eyes. To him, eyes are the purest form of honesty. like how yours can look like saucers when you’re shocked or diamonds when you're happy. or a pit of sadness.

Sadness. Alhaitham would think your only source of sadness in life was that fiancé of yours. Well, ex by now. A man who caused you so much pain that you’ve decided to live and die with. How could you ever love again if you’re so committed like this? But Alhaitham won’t ask you such things, out of respect, of course. It’s not like he’ll be pondering over them in a few weeks.

He shakes off the weird thoughts, dozing off.

You woke up to the sight. ‘What a sight for sore eyes.’ You quote in your head. You almost want to wipe away your eyes with how fine that man looks. Despite how creepy it was to notice the doctor in the corner of your room, His head was leaned against the wall, and his body stilled like stone as he slept. And his arms—Oh his arms. His arms were practically bulging out the scrubs he wore, so muscular. You almost want to touch them. Well, at least you know he keeps up with his gym regimen. Good thing he’s sleeping; now you can admire him more.

“You must have a staring problem.”

Maybe not.

His voice was a bit raspy, laced with tiredness as his eyes fluttered open, straight to you. “Why didn’t you wake me?” You divert him. Eyes away from him with an obvious flustered expression on your face. Alhaitham’s lips tug into a tiny, knowing smile, humored. But he decides to play along and not tease you any longer. “I’m not going to interfere with a patient's sleep.” He sighs, standing tall and going to put back on his coat. He checks the time. 4 PM.

“Before you watch your movie full of blood, you need your dosage.” Alhaitham ignores your whine in response, picking up the wrapped syringe in his white bag. “Ugh, why do I have to do three a day anyway? I’m feeling well.” You huff, holding out your arm as he walks to you, closing your eyes in anticipation. “That’s exactly why.” He mutters, holding your arm gently. “Breathe.” He says it softly, feeling your fast heartbeat on your wrist. “I clearly am." "Well, calm down.”

You purse your lips, complying and taking some deep breaths. Once his thumb presses the familiar spot between your forearm and arm, you feel the prick in your skin. Then comes the tingly feeling of fluid entering your body. You shiver, unexpectedly clutching his hand as your chest tightens. Alhaitham watches in interest, allowing you to hold onto him until the pain passes. "Can we watch that movie now?" You mumble, making him give your hand a final squeeze before letting go.

He grabs the remote on the table, turns on the TV, and flicks through the streaming services. “Hmm, I’m not sure. I think you like looking at something else,” he offhandedly mentions, giving you a small jab at your earlier actions and glancing down at the little funny face you gave him. “Oh c’mon!”

“What? It was just an assumption."

“But! Ugh!”

“Again!” You groan before Alhaitham can even slot his red chip into the blue holder. You’ve lost maybe five or six games of Connect Four now, sitting at this stupid table with this stupid game for maybe an hour and a half. "No, I can do it." Alhaitham says this while sitting back into his chair with that signature cross of his legs. “And why is that?” “It’s getting late.” And you pout, laying your head on the table as he watches you.

Those little target-like eyes of his drill into you. Moreso, the purple veins that have formed on your neck over the past month The area is dark, and the veins are even darker. There were parts of your body that suffered from the disease; your health was deteriorating so badly that it made him sick. You’ve become slower, unable to even stay awake for longer than eight hours. He and Ms. Candace have been hovering over you with every last second of your life, with the knowledge that you could drop dead at any moment.

“Not a good look, huh?" You murmur, feeling awful under his watchful gaze. And Alhaitham’s cocks his head, not entertained by your words. “Did I say that?”

"It's on your face."

“You have poor judgment, then."

And your face scrunches up, looking at him with an annoyed look. “What else would you think, then?” Alhaitham bites his tongue. something he doesn’t do a lot. Well, not at all. It’s not like him to interfere with a patient's choice, but...

“I’d think that you should get that operation.” He sighs, not bothering to take his eyes off you as you turn your head away. “Doctor. You know I—“ “Are you seriously letting a man who isn’t here dictate how your life ends?” He scoffs, letting a tone of disbelief creep into his voice before realizing his own words. But Alhaitham doesn’t correct himself.

He was already correct.

"Okay, well, why do you care? And yes, I know you’re my doctor and everything, but, you don’t act like this." You give him a pointed look, sliding the lever of the blue grid and letting the coins fall into the bin. “I’m just saying. Anyone in their right mind would at least be honest with you about this.” Alhaitham shrugs, but the truth is that he truly could not stand to see you like this. So in his right mind, he did the least he could do.

It's not like you know his true feelings.

You ponder over his words, playing with the ring on your left hand. He was right. But perhaps you expected too much from that damned man, the man you fell in love with classically, high school sweethearts who swore to marry, and oh, how so close you were to that dream.

Not every story has a happy ending.

But who were you to let some shitty man write your story’s ending while he goes to some fucking island with his fucking bimbo?

An idiot is what you’d be.

“Sure.” You whisper, bringing your elbow up and laying your head on your hand. Alhaitham gives you a look of satisfaction, a knowing smile forming on his face as he stands up. “I knew you weren’t that dumb.” “You know nothing!” You scoff, your chest bubbling with excitement for your future as you get ready to put away the board game. But he pulls the grid towards him and says, "You won’t need this here. I’ll just take it home.” He says it casually, making you pause.

“But it was a gift to me? Why—" “Do you seriously not know how to take a hint?” What’s with this man always interrupting you? You scowl. Hint? What hint—"Oh, wait—are you like, inviting, me over or something?” And Alhaitham only makes a sound of agreement, dropping the chips in the bin into the box. “yea, and I won’t be your surgeon, obviously. But once the day of your appointment comes, you won’t see me around. Just talk to Ms. Candace after they release you."

Alhaitham cleans up as you tuck yourself into bed, playing the background show of your choice before leaving with a small click of the door.

You can’t believe it. You aren’t dying in three weeks. and you’re going on a date. Well, in a month, but still!

“Um, should I just call him? I don’t want you to trouble you any longer. You were dressed in a fine black dress that Candace willingly gave to you. Your body healed after the operation within a few weeks of rest and food. You hadn’t seen the doctor—well, Alhaitham—since the day before your appointment.

So basically, a long time.

But after getting released from the hospital, Candace took you in and helped you familiarize yourself with life. And she just so happened to tell a specific man that you made a full recovery. which his immediate reply was, for you to come over to his house for dinner.

It was about time for him to properly pursue you.

“Oh? You must be eager to see him. He’s just a little car ride away, but if you insist, Candace teases, her eyes glimmering in amusement as she hands you your phone. You look at yourself in the mirror again; it feels so refreshing to actually see yourself healthy, not scrawny and filled with scotches of purple on your skin.

You spent over an hour in the mirror, buttering yourself up with some light makeup of your choice and admiring yourself.

You take the phone from her hand, chewing on your bottom lip nervously as you get to his contact. "There is no need to be nervous. I’m sure he’d swoon just from the sound of your voice.” She smiles, making you laugh, and clicks the call button. "Oh, please, he’s not that—

"You finally called."

You shiver at the sound of his voice. Who the hell answers the phone so quickly? “Sorry, but, uh, I was wondering if you could come pick me up." You aren’t sure how the tone of your voice got meek so quickly, but for some reason, it makes him chuckle. “*yea? I’m already on my way.” Maybe you were too sick to realize how hot his voice actually is, even just on the phone.

Candace notices how stiff you are, clearly flustered and shy. She leans to the phone and says, “What a gentleman you are! I’m sure she’ll be happy to see you! She might lose her head if you don’t hurry.” She sings, clicking the red button as you fall into her hug.

You two talk about some things you might be interested in doing in the future, like continuing your career and education in technology or finding a job soon so you can get out of her hair. It really feels nice, like you’re actually becoming something rather than being a little housewife with a fiancé who never took the time to love you.

You drift away from the conversation on cereal before milk when you hear a honk outside. Candace jumps up, holding your hand and guiding you to the door. “I feel like a mother,” she smiles, making you give her a grin. “You’re younger than me!” “But I’m wiser. Have a nice night, hun.” She opens the door for you, giving you the sight of a Black Cadillac parked beside her driveway.

You walked down the driveway nervously, clutching the sides of your dress with your purse in your other hand. Just as you reach the car, Alhaitham gets out, walking around to open your door but stopping you with a hand just barely ghosting your waist.

You two stare into each other's eyes, a light breeze blowing through the evening air as he looks you up and down. while you do the same. It felt like a blessing to be able to see his figure without those stupid scrubs. He wore a gray button-up with black slacks, simple but fitting. with some small amounts of jewelry that complement him well. Before you can even try your hand at being confident, he speaks before you: “You look decent." "I spent over two hours on this outfit! And you say, "Decent?"You huff playfully, the weight of your heart already dissipating when he gives an airy laugh, opening the door.

“Then I apologize..gorgeous." “That is so corny.” You jest, despite the increase in blood flowing to your cheeks. “I tried. But I was honest.” He sighs, almost disappointedly, but is careful of your legs before closing the door. Your mind races as you get comfortable in the car, noticing the light scent of cologne. How fancy.

At least it was better than those strong perfumes. like a dark, regal scent, but brisk.

“I was hoping to make you dinner, and then we can play another game I bought for you.” Alhaitham gets in, buckling up before giving Candace, who stood at her door, a small wave. “Yea?” “Yea.” You smile bashfully, your cheek bones betraying you as you hold your hand out. “I’d like that.” And Alhaitham returns your smile, examining your hand.

No ring. But he already has one in mind.

It’ll be silver.

He puts his hand in yours, interlocking it and squeezing firmly. “And I promise you’ll love it.”

Hopefully, you’ll love him too.

[xllizs]

"What's your favorite scary movie?" Ghostface! Toji Fushiguro x Reader

TAGS: Serial killer, corn maze, halloween, made up characters as readers friends, SMUT

WORD COUNT: 4.5k

You step out of your car into the eerie night, the grass brushing against your ankles. The cold air rushes past your body, making you shiver. You aren’t the biggest fan of this kind of stuff, but your friends wanted to go somewhere over the weekend, and since you miraculously finished all your work this week, you agreed. 

“Wait, are you guys fine leaving around, like, 8:30?” your friend, Himari hushes.

“Yeah, sure, but I kind of wanted to stay longer,” you say back, starting to walk towards the gates.

“Okay, but like, I’m still kind of paranoid because of all that Ghostface shit going around. I just don’t want to take any chances, y’know?”

You turn around and face the car, where Himari and your other friend, Keishi, are standing.

“Oh my god, if you keep mentioning it, then it’s actually gonna happen. You’ll be fine,” Keishi assures her. You nod at Himari with a slight smile. He yanks Himari by her wrist as you push open the gates of the pumpkin patch.

The sun’s glow reflects off of the field, making the lackluster grass look golden. The end of the sky fades into a deep saffron. There are a lot of people, but it isn’t too loud. You breathe in, take in the sight, and then exhale. After you pay for your tickets, you look back at your friends.

“Okay! So, what should we do first?” You ask, eyeing the seemingly endless rows of corn across from you. There’s an arch with a big sign on it that says Haunted Corn Maze at the beginning of the pathway.

“Ooh, we should do that!” Keishi exclaims, lightly jogging towards the entrance. You and Himari glance at each other before you follow suit. 

At the entrance, there’s a wooden A-frame chalkboard with a handful of warnings and disclaimers. Keishi struts up to it, and begins to read.

“Warning: the Haunted Corn Maze is not for the faint of heart. Those who suffer from seizures, asthma, heart conditions, or any physical, mental, or respiratory conditions should not enter. Anyone who enters understands that there may be dangers or hazards– okay I’m not reading all of that. Let’s just go in, I didn’t see anything on their website about it being super scary anyways.”

The three of you start to walk down the path, but you aren’t aware of the critical mistake you’ve all just made.

At the bottom of the chalkboard is written in bold letters: On October 1, 2, and 3, The Haunted Corn Maze will be closed from 7:30-11:00 PM for maintenance.

It’s 7:04, but you sure as hell won’t be leaving for a while.

…

You, Keishi, and Himari, have been walking for a good 20 minutes, running into a few scare actors. It’s gotten darker now, making it harder to stay together. The noise of fake chainsaws not only irritate you, but sometimes drown out the sound of your friends’ voices. As you’re trying to get through the maze, an announcement airs over the speakers.

“Greetings, visitors! We hope you’re having a spooktastic time, this is just a reminder that the Haunted Corn Maze will be closed in 5 minutes due to maintenance. Again, the Haunted Corn Maze will be closed in 5 minutes due to maintenance. Thank you for your cooperation, and we hope you have a good rest of your evening!”

Oh, shit.

“...You have got to be fucking joking,” Himari says in a stern voice. You all stare at each other, then start desperately trying to find a solution.

“Should we call for help… I swear to god I didn’t know… oh my god… are we really stuck… just finish the maze…” 

You all agree that you should just try to find the exit as fast as you can, and if you can’t then at least help will find you. You and your friends start running slowly down the path, panting. It’s gonna take a fucking while for help to arrive, and you don’t want any random people trying to scare you in this anxious state–

Oh. Speak of the devil.

As you turn the corner, you see someone wearing a black robe holding a prop knife. It’s weird, they’re just facing the end of the aisle, which is a dead end. You groan loudly, realizing you have to go back, when the person turns around. The turn is curiously slow. Now, you can see they’re wearing a mask, a Ghostface mask. 

“Hah, Himari, you were right, there is a serial killer,” you sneer. You squint at the figure, trying to inspect them a bit harder, but they start to move their arm, raising the knife, and–

“Oh my fucking god, it’s an actual serial killer!” Himari screams. The knife barely flew past her.

“Himari, calm down, it’s just a prop… see–” You swear, trying to calm her down. Her arms squeeze around you as Keishi approaches the knife. His shaky hands try to cover his mouth, but he’s gawking. 

“N-no, it’s real.” The air turns even colder. You feel sick, like you’re going to puke, but you feel so horribly bare inside. You’re gasping for air, but it feels suffocating somehow. You’d think that your fight or flight instincts would kick in with a situation like this, but you’re just frozen. No way. No fucking way is this real.

“Oh– oh my god, run!” Keishi wails, holding onto both you and Himari as you try to get away. Any color in Himari’s face has completely faded at this point, and Keishi looks so distraught, which hurts to see, comparing it to his usual demeanor. Do something, idiot. Anything, it doesn’t matter, just please do something. You throw yourself away from your friends and take a shaky breath.

“D-don’t,” you choke, “don’t get near my friends, bitch!” You sob, clawing pathetically at the hunting knife on the ground. You didn’t realize how scarily far the knife was thrown, until now. The figure takes a firm, sharp step. 

“Y/N, what the fuck are you doing?!” Himari yells. You’re glad she’s still conscious.

“I-I don’t… I don’t know, just hurry!” You yell back. It’s true, you don’t know what you’re doing, but at least you’re trying to do something, right? 

“Are you sure about this?!”

“Just go! I’ll keep him off for now, just get help, okay?” It’s hilarious, really– because you and your friends are all bawling your eyes out, how the hell are you gonna make it out of here?

Keishi and Himari look back at you before scurrying away frantically. The person in black takes another step towards you. Are you terrified? Probably. Do you think you can beat this guy who’s a foot taller than you? Probably not. Are you still going to try and protect your friends? Of course. 

“How cute,” the man in black coos, his voice muffled by the mask. You’re both taking one step at a time, waiting for the other to act. You blink, and before you know it, he’s almost right in front of you. You hurl the knife at his torso, and then run as fast as you humanly can.

…

You aren’t sure how long you’ve been stuck in this shithole, but it’s definitely been a while; the fatigue is really starting to settle in now. Constantly running around while still trying to keep quiet is excruciatingly difficult, especially when you’re being hunted down by a serial killer. You think you’ve finally lost him. It’s completely dark out now, and you’ve finally accepted that nobody is going to come looking for you. I mean, they would have found you by now, right? You wonder where Himari and Keishi are. It would kind of defeat the whole point of this if they were still stuck in the maze too. You reach into your back pocket for your phone, but there’s nothing there. You reach into the other pocket, but there’s still nothing. Shit, did it fall out while you were running?–

“I feel bad for you, you’re so oblivious it’s almost charming.”

There he is.

In his left hand is the knife from earlier. It’s covered in blood. He must’ve pulled it out. In his right hand is your phone.

“W–what– how did–” You didn’t even realize that you had fallen backwards. Get off your ass, do some–

“Are these your little friends, sweetheart?” He shows you the– oh god– 28 missed calls from you and your friends’ group chat. You haven’t been able to get reception until now, how ridiculous. You don’t have time to mope though, you need to get away from this psycho. 

“What do you want?” Your voice is strangled but still fierce. He cocks his head to the side, then looks back at the phone.

“Hm, they’re calling again,” he shrugs nonchalantly. You stare at him, terrified. How could he sound so normal about this? You start to get up, but then quickly realize it's a dead end. Fuck. He starts to walk towards you. You decide that if he comes at you, you'll try and escape from the side. 

You run towards the open space on his left. His arm moves towards your neck, the bloody knife brushing against your collarbone. 

“There's nowhere to go, doll.” 

He pushes you down, quickly straddling you so you can't move. 

“Why don’t we pick up the phone?” He questions, and you swear you can hear the grin in his voice. What a sly motherfucker. You throw your hands up, trying to get him away from you– not like it's gonna help, he's clearly built. He drops the phone to hold both of your arms together. The other hand quickly slides the knife up to your neck. “Answer the phone, and let your friends know you made it out safely, and that you're okay. Or I’ll slit your throat right now, got it?” His deep, scratchy voice shivers down your spine. You frantically nod your head yes, pleading for your life. “That's what I thought–” the phone rings. “Perfect. Now once I let go of your arms, don't fight back. You won't win.” You were too scared to, now. If you tried, who knows where the knife would end up.  

He lets go of your arms, grabbing the phone and answering it. He puts it on speaker, holding it up between you two. It's still closer to you, and the mic side is facing you. 

“Oh my god! You're alive!” Himari cries out with relief. You catch your breath. 

“Yeah, I got out,” you say, trying to stabilize your shaky voice. 

“Why weren’t you answering your phone? We were about to call the cops,” Keishi lectures you.

“I, uh– sorry, the reception was bad and then my phone died. I'm okay now,” you reassure them. You really wish you were. 

“Alright good, stay safe, we love you!” Himari says in a loving tone. 

‘Wait, guys–” they had already hung up, but you hadn't realized and kept speaking. “Please, he has me– please!” you scream out. You start sobbing, you're done for. Why did you do that? 

“Oohh, you stupid bitch.” He throws your phone. The knife that was just held up to your neck is now in his pocket. 

“No! No! Please! They didn't hear me!” You hiccup mid sentence, trying to catch your breath from sobbing. “I'm so sorry! Please, please! I don't wanna die! Please!” you're hysterical. His hand goes to your neck. Right now, he's just holding it. 

“Would you shut the fuck up? Im not fucking killing you, yet,” he spits out at you. 

His hand adjusts around your neck. For some reason he doesn't want to get rid of you. There's just something about you. He makes sure he puts pressure on the right spot, just to knock you out. 

“No! No! I'm so sorry!” You shriek out. He starts to squeeze your neck, and you instinctively bring your hands up to try and take him off. He grips both of your hands again. You’re gasping for air. You're starting to feel funny. Your vision is blurry. You– you can't get any more air.

…

Cold. It’s a lot colder than before. Am I dead? Where am I? 

Youre propped up on a chair. Your arms are behind you, tied together by something, whatever it is, it's cold, you assume it's handcuffs? Don't know. Surprisingly you can see. 

What about your legs? Can you move them? No. you can't. They're stuck around the chairs legs. 

You aren't able to talk, there's tape on your mouth.

Your visions still blurry, but you’re  trying to decipher where you are. Its dark, maybe a basement?

Clearly its not your house, so whos is it-

Then, all the memories came flooding in of what happened before you blacked out.

Fuck.

You hear somebody walking down the stairs. This time, zero robe. Is this sick fuck seriously wearing a tanktop and sweatpants? Still that stupid ass mask. You notice the bandage near where you stabbed him before. 

 Your face is soaked in tears and you're breathing so loudly. Your heart beat is so loud. The silence breaks when you hear a deep chuckle.

'`Pretty girls awake, huh?” he mocks you. He walks toward you and crouches down. “Oh yeahh, cant talk, can you?..kay’ gimme a sec.” 

Why is he talking to you like he didn't just kidnap you?? 

His hand approaches your face. You close your eyes. He gets a grip on the tape and rips it off fast. It comes off smoother due to your tears. You feel the light burning sensation and whimper. “Get the fuck away from me.” you quietly spoke. 

He scoffs at you. “Nah. Don't worry. You'll be gone soon.” Why does he say it in an assuring tone? Does he expect you to feel better? “Huh???” you start panicking. This can't be happening. He gets up and walks behind you. You follow him with your head as he starts to unlock your cuffs. The tight, cold metal around your wrists is gone. “My knife is in my pocket. Dont fuck with me.”  he tells you fiercely. You nod, if obeying him keeps you alive longer, you'll take it.

Youre free, he got your legs undone. His back is facing you, while he stands only a few feet away. This is your chance! Go! 

You spring up and the second the chair creeked his heels turn and he pushes you towards the ground.

You crash on the cement floor. Your knees automatically ache. He gets on the ground and flips you on your back. 

You are fighting back with everything you got. Moving your arms so he cant grab them. While he tries to keep your legs down, you knock off his mask. Holy fuck.

His raven hair  thats not too messy is revealed. His face and gorgeous green eyes. How is a serial killer, so attractive?

His mouth curls up, you notice a scar on it as he does. He scoffs. Fuck, you are so done, now. Your mouth opens a little from eyeing his face up and down. “You fucking little bitch. Now I really gotta get rid of ya, huh?” he says with a chuckle, acting like it's some sick joke. No, no. you really are gonna die. “Please. Please.” His hand wraps around your neck to pick you up. He leans closer to you. Only a few inches away from your face. “How should I kill you? Hm?” his head leans to the side as he has a small grin. 

Why are you finding the man that wants to kill you attractive? 

“No please. Please. I just graduated college! I have a life to live for! Please! I have so much left to do before I’d even die. Please!” you sob out. Tears coming out again. 

“Yeah?” he lowers his mouth to your ear, “Like what?” he questions. 

Your eyes widen in disgust, he's seriously asking about your future?

You stammer, “Uh- I, are you serious?” it was scary to ask, but you didnt wanna piss him off.

“Yeah.” He moves his head and is staring deeply into your eyes, “Why don't you tell me things you haven't done yet, or what you're planning? Gotta know what you'll miss out on, once I kill you.” he snickers at you. 

Your eyes widen in horror. That word, kill. You’re gonna die.

 “Uh. I mean” you breathe out shakingly, “I guess get a steady job?..and, nevermind. Finally get a boyfriend,” you really didn't understand why you were honestly telling him this, “I don't know-” 

“Nuh uh. Go back, you know you were gonna say something before that, doll.” he coos. 

That nickname. Now that you've seen his face, and you hate to admit it, it did something to you.

“I wasn’t.” you gulp. You both knew it was a lie. 

“You know I didn't believe that for one second.” He takes his knife out and you flinch, “don't worry, i ain't doing anything, yet.” he sneers. “So what was it? Your first kiss?” he starts fidgeting with his knife and his eyes light up, “Oohh, orrr.. are you still a virg-” 

“No!” you cut him off. Obviously, that was what you were going to say, but there was no point in telling the man who's going to kill you that you are. 

“Got ya!! Not very good at being secretive, hm?” he smirks.

He starts to eye you down, stopping where he straddled you. You take the chance to eye him down too. The way his shirt hugs his body. You gotta admit, he makes you wet. Your eyes run down to the tent in his pants. Is he hard? 

“So, you just really dont wanna die a virgin?” he asks

Your cheeks light up in a pink shade. “Why does it matter?” you shoot a question back at him. 

“Ehh, dunno. Personally I wouldnt mind a quick fuck, ‘specially with a pretty girl like you.” that nasty, but very attractive smirk, appears on his face again.

You break eye contact.

Was he attractive? Fuck yes. Would you fuck him in a heartbeat? Definitely. Isn't he planning to kill you? Yep. 

“Tell ya what,” He does a swift move with the knife, “If you let me fuck you, we’ll both get something out of it. You’ll lose your virginity you are so worried about, and I’ll possibly spare your life if its good. Andd, hopefully I’ll get a good fuck. Deal?” He looks you up and down.

Fuck. You mean, you'd do anything to live. And if he wasn't your killer you would accept his offer right away.

“Will I actually live?” you wonder, for all you know he might just stab you mid fuck. 

“Probably. Hopefully that wet cunt of yours is good.” he winks

“Fine. Will it hurt..?” you squint while asking, he chuckles, “ehh, you decide once you see my cock. But first, I want you to suck it. You bite and I slit your throat, ‘kay?” 

You've never sucked cock. You can barely swallow a pill. You try to remember all those stupid things Himari told you once after she gave a few guys head.

You nod at him and he gets off of you. Knife in hand. You watch as he takes his sweatpants off, revealing the large bulge in his boxers. Then, he removes them. Your eyes widen. You've seen porn a few times, and you knew, this was big. He lets out a light laugh. 

He sits on the chair you were on a few moments ago, queueing you to come towards him.

Your knees still hurt so badly, so as pathetic as it was, you crawl towards him. 

As you get between his legs, you get on your knees and wrap your hand around his cock. 

You start to stroke it up and down, spitting on it to help you lube it up. Not sure what to do, you kiss the tip, letting go with a pop noise. Circling his tip with your tongue, he grabs a handful of your hair with his hand gripping it. “That's good. Better start sucking it.” he pants out. His dick spilling with a little of precum still.

You let more spit dangle out of your mouth onto his dick and put your mouth on it. Starting to slide farther down his dick until you gag, you were gonna move back up until he pushes you down and starts bobbing your head up and down. Tears start to brickle out of your eyes and stream down your face. Remembering, you take your and stroke the part that isn't in your mouth. You play with his balls a little, hopefully not doing anything wrong. You stare up into his eyes as they fill with tears from gagging.

“Fuck, youre a fuckin’ slut arent you? You know how to work that mouth.” he grunts 

You start stroking more and he loosens his grip on your hair as you start to bob your head past you limit by yourself. “I’m gonna cum. And it's going in your mouth.” and when he says that, you swear you almost heard a whimper. You rest your hands on his knees, your head moves up and you circle his tip with your tongue one last time and put it far down your throat again. 

His dick twitches as he unleashes a load inside your throat. Without a single thought, you move your head away and swallow it. Why did you enjoy it? “Haha, swallowed it like it was nothing. This really your first time?” he breathes out, trying to get down from his high. His dick is still hard.

“That was good. Can't make any promises on your life though till I fuck that  cunt.” he has a smirk on his face.

You hated how badly you wanted to have this man fuck you. 

He stands up avoiding hitting you as you're still kneeled in front of the chair. You look to the side as if offers a hand to help you up. You question whether or not he's actually gonna help you up, but you take the chance and you're standing up.

 Once you're standing up you barely have a second to look up at his eyes staring into yours before he roughly pushes you against the wall. He pins you down, cupping your face and roughly kissing you. He forces his tongue into your mouth as one of his hands start to run down to your boob, circling around your nipple. 

He bites your lip and sucks on it before he releases and his lips move back a little, a string of salvia following him. He quickly moves down to your neck, you whimper as he bites down then quickly sucking on it. You try to contain you moans but between him playing with your nipple and sucking on your neck, you couldn't. 

He takes his knife and cuts down the middle of your shirt quickly revealing your bra. 

He rips off the rest of it and undoes your bra, letting your boobs fall out. 

He removes his mouth from your neck and starts to suck on your sensitive nipple while his other hand rubs the other one. 

“Fuck~” you moan out. His low breathless chuckle vibrates against your nipple which makes you squirm more. You don't want this to end. You bring your hand to his cock, starting to jerk him off, you move up and down a few times until he unhooks his mouth from your boob and starts to take your pants off, ripping your panties off with them. 

He exams your panties, “Fuckin’ wet, huh?” He throws them to the ground and plays with your clit but soonly he picks you up and your legs wrap around his waist, letting you lean against the wall. 

He slides his cock up and down gathering your slick to help it go in easier, smirking when you shiver every time your clit and his tip make contact. 

“Please-mmmph. Please be careful, I've never,” you try speaking but he pushes his tip in slightly, “Yeah, yeah. Your first fucking time or what not. Does it look like I give two shits?” he thrusts all of it in in one go. You scream out in pleasure and pain. The burn. Hes so deep, you swear you practically feel him in your stomach. Holy shit. 

“Fuuuuckkkkk..you're sucking me in so good.” he groans and his eye roll back as he throws his head back. He waits a few seconds until he starts thrusting in at a slightly fast pace. “Mmpp..- feels soo good!” you moan out unable to hold it back. The pain you felt before is totally gone. 

You've tried to touch yourself before, but you could never reach where he's reaching right now. So many spots you never knew would feel good. He dick kept hitting that exact spot that made you see stars each time. “Godd, you're so fuckin’ tight. You gotta stop squeezing me like that, doll. You'll make me never wanna get out.” he manages to get out between breaths. 

He picks his pace up making your tits jiggle at the same time. As he thrust in, he pushes you into a powerful kiss and forces his tongue in, smashing into yours. He comes out of your mouth slightly and sucks on your lip, leaving a ticklish feeling, but it doesn't last long as bites down on it causing you to whimper and clench around him. “Hm? You liked that huh?” he has a smile on his face as he looks down at you, raven hair strands sticking to his forehead. His eyes were so beautiful to look at, they were a beautiful green shade. 

He continues thrusting but goes harder, deeper hitting that same spot over and over again. You start to clench more as he quickened his pace again. You couldn't grasp how he had so much stamina.

“I-i…fuckk.. Please. harder. “  You knew you were close to cumming. “So close..mmppp!” you cry out. “Shiitt. Me too.” he grunts, starting to somehow go harder then he was. The sound of your body's colliding echoing throughout the room, both of your moans syncing with his thrusts. He goes harder, you were seeing stars. You couldn't believe you were losing your virginity to the man who wanted to kill you, the man who is the serial killer, Ghostface. “Cum-ughhhfuck.. Cumming!!” you scream out, your cum gushing around his cock. He continues thrusting as your orgasm, until only a few seconds later he cums inside of you. 

You both are coming down from your high, catching your breath. “Was it good? Am I gonna live? Please.” you question.

“Huh? Yeah. That was really fucking good. You'll live, but I want you around for a while with me."

written by szillx (me) and @ems-interlude !!

TAGLIST: (if you want to be added, check kinktober masterlist for the form!) @slutforfictionalman @queendessi24 @tojishugetiddies @thebestgirlever2 @getosho3cakes @hotvillianapologist @taxevadingblob

[gojos-thot-patrol]

Please please please please please I actually beg, I need a fluff where Sukuna is cuddling with you, his head on your chest while he tells you about… I don’t know, how this is because he doesn’t love you and you’re only good for being a pillow, knowing that is not the case. (Also HIII I ABSOLUTELY LOVE YOUR CONTENT!!! Thank you very much for reading this and I hope you have a lovely day, whether you choose to respond or not :D 💞💞💞💞💞💞)

I DROPPED EVERYTHING TO WRITE THIS ITS TOO FUCKIN CUTE AH-

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Starring: A battle weary Sukuna

You were never really sure what to do with your nights when Ryomen was away. Normally, you would spend the twilight hours in his room, in his arms, and in his sheets, curled into his side afterwards and falling asleep to the sounds of his heartbeat slowing down. But, that was out of the question tonight, just as it had been for the last week. He was off conquering something somewhere- you honestly didn’t really care. You just wanted your man- your lord back. Luckily, he was due back tomorrow evening. 

Without having many other options, you found yourself curled up on your bed with a book from the palace library. Not a bad way to spend an evening per say, just a lonely one. Ryomen was never a huge fan of cuddling unless it was after he was inside of you- and even then he was more on the take it or leave it side of things. But, his presence was still always appreciated, and on cold nights like these you desperately wanted him home to warm your bed.

You wondered what the fuck was in your tea when you saw him standing in your door way, convinced you were hallucinating. “My lord?” You asked, taking in his battle weary from. “You’re home?”

“Clearly.” He grumbled, death shambling over to your bed and collapsing on it. Admittedly, you were a little put off by it- the metallic smell of blood still clinging to his skin, as if he left the battlefield and went straight to your arms. You didn’t have a lot of time to realize how true that statement was before his arms were wrapped around you, pulling you as close to him as he possibly could and resting his head at the crown of your breast. It almost scared you just how needy he was being. 

“You’re home early…” You pointed out, only for him to roll all four of his eyes at you.

“Refer to my previous statement.”

“I’m asking why my lord.” His jaw ticked at your words. He’d killed nobles for less,what made you think you could take that tone with him? He should cut your disrespectful tongue out for even considering to question him. 

“We were able to slaughter their forces faster than we expected. None of them were higher than grade two.” He explained, closing his eyes to try and relax.

“Oh, that’s great! Another successful battle.” You smiled, running your fingers through his hair. You swore you heard him purr.

“Yeah.” No. No it absolutely was not. Yeah, none of those foot soldiers were higher than a grade two, but that didn’t matter when there was so fucking many of them. A hoard of roaches could kill a snake given the right numbers, and Sukunas entire force was out numbered, for every one soldier he had that asshole had over a hundred grunts. 

It got bleak. Bleak to the point where Sukuna had to really consider the fact he might not be going home. That he might die at the hands of fucking novices of all things. That he might not ever be able to hold you again, to kiss you, to see you. And he didn’t even say a proper goodbye before leaving. For the first time in Ryomen Sukuna’s existence, he was terrified. It wasn’t the first time he had been at deaths door, he was actually a frequent visitor. But this was the first time he made the trip when he had something to live for.

So he pushed through. Unleashed a fourth domain expansion even after the second one took everything he had left out of him, fought harder than he had before, and even felt a black flash. At some point, the enemies stopped flooding in, and it was just him and was was left of his army in the war zone. Yeah, he won, but he would never consider that a successful battle. 

You didn’t need to know that though. All you needed to know was he was home. He watched you read your book, content for what felt like the first time ever as you played absentmindedly with his hair. Moments like these were the ones he dreaded losing the most. Soft moments, where he could actually let his guard down and be at peace, even if it was only for a few seconds. He sighed softly, closing his eyes and snuggling closer to you.

“I missed you too, my lord.” You smiled gently at him. His eyes snapped open. You just had to speak, didn’t you?

“I didn’t miss you.” He scoffed in disgust, but still couldn’t find it in him to move, “Know your place whore.” The “whore” was so half-hearted it was laughable. Normally he was able to put some venom in it, but he was feeling particularly de-fanged right now. 

“Oh of course. That’s why you're clinging to me like this, because you absolutely did not miss me, right? You don’t love me at all.” You teased him.

“I do not.” He snapped, lifting his head up to properly look you in your eyes so you knew you were on thin fucking ice. “You think this is because I love you? Do you think the sky is red too? You’re comfortable wench, that’s all this is. You’re no more valuable to me than a pillow, or a chair. Love is an entirely human emotion, don’t project it onto me.” He lashed out, before dropping his head back on your chest with a limp thud. “You’ll to well to watch your tongue slut, before I cut it out.” He grumbled, managing to find some venom there this time. 

“I’m sorry my lord.” You sighed, returning to your book. A soft, self satisfied smirk did find its way to your lips when you felt him put your hand back in his hair, prompting you to continue playing there. 

“Mmm.” He grumbled. Truth be told, Love was a human emotion. Most curses would never feel anything even adjacent to it in their lifetime. But no matter how much he tried to deny it, Sukuna was human once. Mortal blood once flowed though his veins, and a human heart still pounded in his chest. A human heart you held in soft hands, gently protecting without even knowing. You’d never know how hard he fought just to be by your side tonight, not if he could help it.

You turned off the bedside lamp, settling into bed with him. He gently kissed your forehead, a soft action that was forced to go unnoticed, least he have to make good on any of his threats. Or worse, admit he was a fool in love. 

[muffinpink02]

Perhaps some lucy inspo:

Lucy x (reader or ona) are on a spa trip, they haven’t done anything sexual in a couple of days for x reason, so now they can’t keep their hands off each other

extra inspo for if you write jealousy fics:

But there is someone (a worker or fellow visitor) who also cannot keep their hands off lucy (or ona) and eventually the mixture of jealousy, good looking gf, no sexual activities became to much and I think we can all imagine what happened either at the hotel (or at home)😌

just some inspo, you don’t have to use this storyline and can also rewrite it however, perhaps private jacuzzi on vacay instead of spa day etc etc

also cannot wait for the next chapters of the fics you’re currently writing. Massive fan of your work!!

The Big O

Thank you to the beautiful anon for this idea. Here you go. Its very quick and rushed, sorry.

Warning - Smut - angry sex

“I can’t wait for this. We needed a break.” Ona smiled over at Lucy as she opened the balcony doors of the hotel room. The taller girl lugged their shared suitcase into the room. Smiling at her girlfriend's excitement.

It had been a while since the couple had a break together, the last real holiday they had was after the World Cup. Yeah, they had breaks in between but they hadn’t been on a summer holiday. They had both been so busy with their own schedules, not to mention the champions league. They became passing ships in the night, hardly really spending time together. That also meant that they hadn’t been able to be intimate with each other in a while. 3 weeks to be exact. 

So, yeah, they needed this. They made a promise to shut off their phones, no emails, no calls, nothing that could distract them. 

“Yeah. I just can’t wait to see you in that bikini you brought.” The older brunette smiled playfully at Ona. 

“Oh, what one?” Ona smiled innocently.

The older brunette stepped into Onas space, smiling down at the doe-eyed girl. “The one that shows off your arse perfectly.”

Ona bit her lip. Something she knew that drove Lucy crazy. The pair had been flirting the whole way here, both wanting each other desperately. Lucy was finding it hard to keep her hands to herself on the flight, her fingers had found themselves between Ona’s legs, teasingly stroking Ona’s bare thighs the whole plain journey. The younger girl didn’t mind at first but when Lucy's fingers got higher and higher to her core she couldn't stop the heat burning between her legs. She was close to dragging Lucy into the plains toilet just to get some kind of release. 

“I love it when you look at me like that.” Lucy purred. She put her finger under Ona’s chin, making the girl look up at her. 

“Like what?” Ona whispered. She knew what she was doing. 

A lot of people would mistake Ona’s innocent look for being the softer one in the bedroom, the more submissive one. And yeah, she definitely was but she could also be very dominating when she wanted to be. She could play Lucy so easily, and Lucy loved it. She would fall for those beautiful brown Disney like eyes everytime, doing anything Ona would ask of her. 

“You know exactly what I'm talking about.” Lucy cupped the shorter girl's face and slowly brought her lips to her own. It was slow at first, both feeling the other girl's mouth, tasting the other's lips. Ona’s watermelon gloss tingled the tip of Lucy's tongue, making her mouth water. Lucy grabbed the back of Ona's neck, pushing her tongue into her mouth. Ona whimpered on feeling her girlfriend's smooth tongue push past her lips and into her mouth.

“Ergh, I love when you make those noises.” 

The Spaniard giggled, but it was cut off when Lucy pushed her on her back, hitting the soft mattress below her. She quickly climbed on top of the smaller girl, reattaching her lips to Ona’s own. It was quick messy kisses, the sounds of their wet lips smacking hard against the other. It was when Lucy started to roll her hips into Ona’s core that the Spaniard started to moan.

“Lu-,” 

Ona was cut off from Lucy sucking on her neck.

Ona could feel her underwear becoming wetter, she wanted Lucy so badly. Her next words were going to be difficult.

“Lucy, we have to st- aaa.”

Lucy quickly slipped her hand into Ona’s shorts, touching her clothed sex.

“So wet already.” Lucy hummed cockily.

Ona gritted her teeth. It had been too long since she felt Lucy between her legs. So long since she felt those talented fingers inside her. She wanted nothing more then for Lucy to fuck her right here, right now, but she had to stop her.

“Lucy, w-we have to s-stop.”

Lucy stopped, looking down at her girlfriend, who was now panting hard. Her lips swollen from Lucy's relentless sucking.

“Stop? Why?” Her confused horny face made Ona’s pussy clench.

“I booked us a spa treatment. We have to be there in 10 minutes.” 

“Are you saying I can’t have you screaming my name in 2 minutes? Because I take that as a challenge.” Lucy smirked down at Ona, capturing her lips once more.

Ona let herself get lost in Lucy's kisses once more. It was when Lucy started to push Ona’s t-shirt up, her short nails scratching against her tight skin, bringing Ona back into the presence.

“We can’t. Come. I’ll make it up to you later.” Ona gave a quick kiss to Lucy's lips before pushing her off. 

Lucy let out a sigh and smiled. “You will definitely make it up to me.” She slapped Ona’s arse playfully, making the younger girl yelp.

Never one to be outdone, Ona stepped in front of Lucy, giving her best doe eye impression. “I’ll let you do whatever you want to me.” 

The northerner's jaw clenched, her eyes closed as she let out a frustrated sigh.

“You better get us to the spa before I throw you on that bed.” 

Ona giggled, she loved to rile up Lucy, she had found in the past that it would always make the sex just a little more fiery, more passionate, a lot more dirty.

The girls quickly got ready for the appointment. They changed into their bikinis and headed to the spa. They checked in and waited in the seating area for their masseuse. Lucy leaned into Ona. “I definitely would have had you screaming my name in that time.” 

Ona chuckled. “Stop. Try and calm down, you’re going to have someone touching you, I don’t want you all worked up for them.” 

Lucy ignored that, and continued.

“I just hope you know that I brought the big one, the one that you beg me to go slow with.”

Ona felt the chills go up her back from Lucy's words. She felt her cunt tighten, thinking about that exact strap Lucy was referring to. 

“Fuck, Lucy.” Ona whispeared.

Before Ona could respond, with a full sentence, not that she really could have, her mind had turned to mush, two women came into the waiting room.

“Hi, I’m Sarah, I’m here for Lucy.” A blonde woman smiled at the pair. 

“That's me.” Lucy smiled.

“And you must be Ona. I’m Sam.” The tall brunette masseuse smiled at the younger girl. 

Lucy didn’t miss the way the masseuse eyed up Ona. 

“That's me.” Ona smiled.

“Perfect.” Sam's grin was devilish. Lucy didn’t like it one bit.

The women sat next to each of the girls, talking about the session and what it would involve. Even though Lucy was trying to listen, her eyes kept wandering over to Ona and the tall brunette. They were speaking Catalan. The women had heard Ona’s accent and of course she happened to also be Catalonian too. So even though Lucy knew a lot of Spanish, she wasn't able to pick up the conversation. Especially at the rate they were speaking. Whatever they were talking about must have been funny because Ona was constantly laughing at the pretty brunette. And for some particular reason Sam had to constantly keep touching Ona’s bare thigh. 

“So does that sound good, Lucy?” Sarah asked.

Lucy was pulled out of her stare off, with the back of Sam's head. “Hmm? Oh yeah, that's great.” She nodded. 

“Great. I’m just going to grab some bits and we’ll head over.” 

Lucy nodded and smiled, she wasn't even sure what treatment she had agreed on.

“Grcias Sam.” Ona smiled. Sam walked out of the room, possibly doing the same thing Sarah was doing. Ona looked over at Lucy, who looked a bit flustered. 

“Hey, what are you getting?” Ona asked.

“Oh erm, the Swedish rock salt, tissue massage.” Lucy was sure that's what Sarah said. “You?”

“Sam suggested I get a full body deep tissue massage. She said it's the best type for what we do.”

“Hmm, so she knows who you are?” 

“Yeah, she's actually not far from my town.”

“Hmm, small world.” Lucy smiled, but it was her weird smile. Ona knew that smile.

The women came back, holding white robes. They followed each woman to their own rooms. The pair smiled as they separated. Lucy noticing once more how Sam’s eyes roamed over Ona. Even though this was meant to be a relaxing moment, Lucy was far from relaxed. She couldn't stop thinking about Ona in the other room, being touched by the other woman. 

“Okay, so you’re very tight on your shoulders, I’m going to work on that for a bit. Just try to relax, you feel very tense.” Sarah said.

Lucy hummed. Even though Sarah had no clue about why Lucy was currently very tense right now, she knew she was right, she needed to relax. She tried. Though she couldn't stop the thoughts of Sam’s hands going an inch too high up Ona’s towel, or an inch too low down her back. Or if she made Ona moan from her touches, what if she made those cute sexy noises that only Lucy pulled from her. Lucy may have regretted teasing Ona before the session.

The 45 minutes had passed. Lucy got dressed and thanked Sarah, though the girl was only more tense. Lucy waited in the waiting room for Ona, even though they both had a 45 minute treatment, Lucy waited another 15 minutes before she saw Ona. The girl had a giant dopey smile on her face. Her cheeks had a pink flush to it. Her hair had been in her neat classic bun before she went in the room with Sam, but now it was down and messy. The girl literally looked like she had just been fucked. And Lucy would know, she had made her look like that plenty of times.

“How was it?” Ona asked, her voice sounded rough.

“Good, you?” 

“Soooo good, I don’t think I’ve ever had it like that before. She knew what she was doing.” Ona smiled.

“Hmm, good, good. Why so long?” 

“Ohh, it was her last session, she gave me head,- a head massage.” Ona started to bun her hair back up.

Lucy raised her brows at Ona’s words. “Ohhh, nice of her.” 

Ona nodded, not noticing Lucy's clear annoyance, or if she did she was ignoring it. 

“Yeah. I’m hungry. Shall we grab something to eat? 

“Sure.” 

The girls grabbed lunch in the hotel. Lucy had calmed down after Ona snaked her hand in hers, mindlessly stroking her knuckles, something that Lucy loved. She knew she was just being jealous, not having sex for so long probably made it worse. Her body was ready to combust and the quick make out session they had in the hotel room before really didn't help.

They sat at the hotel's beach, soaking in the sun, finally relaxing. She looked over at Ona laying on her front, her beautiful arse cheeks swallowing the bikini. Lucy had to lick her lips, making sure she wasn't actually dribbling.

“Do you want a drink? I’ll go to the bar.”

Ona smiled, pushing her glasses down. “Can I get a strawberry daiquiri, please?” 

Lucy kissed Ona deeply, holding the back of her head. “Of course you can.” 

Lucy made her way to the bar, she ordered the drinks then noticed the TV. The bar was playing the football, it was Chelsea vs Man City, a game she was hoping to watch. She took a seat at the bar, waiting for the cocktail to be made, but also wanting to get comfy as she watched on. 

Lucy had a few favourite things in this world, and watching football was one of them. Fucking Ona until she couldnt feel her legs no more was another. Playing football was another. Ona probably couldn't tell you in what order that went from top to bottom. 

It had been 10 minutes Ona looked towards the bar, wondering where her girlfriend was, she wasn't worried, they were still at the hotel. She knew when Lucy was in a good mood the girl could make friends with anyone, so she imagined she was maybe talking to a fan or something. Another 10 minutes and still nothing, that’s when Ona heard that very familiar roar of a bar that she realised why Lucy had not returned. Of course. 

“How's your head?” Ona looked up to see Sam the masseuse. With the way Sam was smiling at Ona, she couldn’t help but think Sam was trying to have a double meaning with that question. 

“A lot better thank you. I definitely feel more relaxed.” Ona smiled.

“Good, I’m glad to hear it, I've been told by many girls that my hands have relieved a lot of tension. My fingers know just where to hit those spots.” Sam’s smile was dangerous. 

She was coming on strong. Ona would normally politely turn down a girl who was flirting with her. But, Ona was annoyed with Lucy right now. They were meant to be on holiday, relaxing together, no phones, no screens, no interruptions. Ona also wouldn't have minded if she had watched it for 5 minutes and came back. But she had been gone for 30 minutes, Lucy had clearly got lost in the game.  

That's when Ona decided to make things interesting. She carried on speaking to Sam. She knew half time would have to be any minute now. And just like clock work, she did, just in perfect timing, she could see Lucy getting up from the bar. Putting her plan in motion. 

“Sam. Could you get my back, please. I can feel it getting red.” 

Sam couldn't have moved quick enough. She took the bottle of sun cream from Ona’s hand and began to rub her back. Ona even undid her bikini straps at her neck, making a show of it. And that show had finally caught the attention of green eyes. Lucy's green eyes. 

Ona closed her eyes and stretched her neck as Sam pressed her fingers deeply into her muscles. She could hear Lucy was close. So she moaned. She didn’t even have to put it on too much, as Sam did genuinely have magic fingers. Ona let out another groan, but this time it turned into a small whimper. 

Lucy wasn't a violent person, but she wanted nothing more than to rugby tackle Sam to the floor. She watched as her fingers slowly rubbed against Ona’s skin, she even made Ona arch as she hit spots that not even Lucy could hit, because she didn’t know what muscle even did that. As she got closer she even heard Ona moan, then she heard her whimper. That was the whimper that only Lucy made her do. Now here she was watching her girlfriend moan for another woman right in front of her.

“I didn’t realise the hotel offered massages outside the spa.” Lucy almost growled. 

“Oh, hey babe, Sam was passing by so I asked her to top up my cream.” Ona smiled.

Lucy knew that smile, she knew what Ona was doing. She continued.

“You were gone for a while. Did you get my drink?” Ona asked.

“Oh, yeah sorry. They’re playing the game, I just wanted to catch the last bit of it.” Lucy looked guilty. 

“Hmm. I see.” Ona nodded. 

“Here's your drink.” Lucy passed over Ona a warm, cocktail, even as she passed it she realised how stupid this looked. 

Sam decided to involve herself in the conversation. “Aye, that drink is no good. I can make a better cocktail than this. Give me 5 minutes, I’ll be right back.” 

Ona smiled widely up at Sam. “Oh thank you. You don’t have to do that.” 

Sam laughed, responding in their mother tongue, making Ona giggle.

Lucy had to hold her fists by her side. Her anger for Sam growing all the more. She sat down in her deck chair. Looking at the younger girl. “Sorry Ona. I was gone for too long. 

“You were.” She only confirmed. 

“I’m sorry. I know we said no screens, I just got carried away.” She grabbed Ona’s hand kissing the back of it, making Ona smile at her. 

“It's okay. You can make it up to me.” She smirked, not looking at Lucy.

Lucy was relieved to see Ona wasn't actually angry. She moved in close to her girlfriend, kissing her neck, she could taste the salt from her sweat, she sucked on her skin, relishing in the way Ona gasped. 

“I’d do anything to make you smile.”

Just like Sam promised she was back in 5 minutes, much to Lucy's dismay.. 

“Here you go, this my own personal cocktail. I call it ‘The big O.”  She winked.

Even though Sam was rude enough to flirt openly with Ona, she had also made a cocktail for Lucy. Ona sat up taking the glass from Sam.

“Ohh it looks amazing. Thank you Sam.” Ona smiled. She wrapped her lips around the pink straw and hummed. “Wow, that's really good. Try it Luce.” 

Lucy rolled her eyes behind her sunglasses. She imagined Ona was just being polite, she took her own sip. Wow, yeah, no, that was good. It was maybe the best cocktail she had ever had. But Sam didn't need to know that.

“Bit sweet for me. Thank you though.” 

Sam smiled. “That's okay, everyone has a type, no? Anyways, enjoy the sun. Intenta no cremar, nena bonica.” She winked at Ona as she walked off.

Lucy was seething, she might not be an expert at the language but she knew enough to know she had just called Ona. 

“I don’t like her.” Lucy grunted.

Ona chuckled, she loved Lucy like this. “Oh stop. She's just doing her job.” 

Lucy folded her arms like a sulking toddler. Ona could only smile at her girlfriends cute, jealous antics as she drank the delicious cocktails.

The evening arrived, the girls rushed up to their rooms to get ready for another reservation Ona had made, it was only for dinner but it was a balcony view that you had to book in advance. If Ona knew how worked up the pair was going to be she would have just ordered room service. Lucy of course couldn't keep her hands off of the younger girl as she came out of the shower, slapping Ona’s arse cheeks as she walked past her. 

They arrived for their dinner reservation, and Ona was grateful she had the willpower to stop Lucy’s hand creeping into her underwear just before they left the hotel room. The view was breathtaking, it overlooked the sea and the other islands. The sun was halfway to setting, making the sky a beautiful pink and orange colour. The girls had their dinner, happy to be in one another's company. They had needed this, just them, nothing in their way. Even though they both had wanted to tear each other's clothes off every waking minute, this was something they needed. Catching up with certain bits of their lives that they hadn't been able to in a while. 

The girls finished their dinner and headed to the beach. The hotel had an event each night for the guests. Tonight was salsa dancing. Lucy and Ona sat at a table waiting for the entertainment. A pretty waitress came over to take their order.

“Hey, what can I get for you?” She looked at Lucy, a shy smile on her face.

“Hi, can I please get a beer. Ona?” Lucy looked over.

“A strawberry daiquiri please.” 

The waitress smiled at Lucy. “No, problem.” She walked off to get their drinks.

“Someones a fan.” Ona rolled her eyes.

“She’s just being friendly.” Lucy chuckled.

The girl returned with their orders. “Here you go Miss Bronze.” 

Lucy didn't stop the grin on her face. “Thank you.” 

“And your martini.” She handed Ona the drink.

“Oh erm, I didn't order this.” 

“No? Oh, I’m sorry. I must have gotten a bit flustered, I’m a really big fan.” She eyed Lucy up with absolutely no shame. “What was it you ordered?” 

Ona stared at the waitress. Her normally soft eyes turned angry.

“A strawberry daiquiri.” 

“That’s right, sorry. I'll grab that for you now.”

“Thank you. Don’t stress, we all make mistakes.” Lucy smiled. 

The waitress put her hand on Lucy's naked muscle. “Thank you.”

Ona rolled her eyes, seething in her seat. Out of the two Ona was definitely the more jealous one. 

This time it wasnt the waitress that came over, it was Sam, again. Did she not take a break?

“Hola, I saw the mix up. Sorry about that, I took the liberty of making my ‘Big O’ you look like you need it.”

“Sam! Thank you! I wanted to ask if they served it but you mentioned it was your own cocktail.” She sucked on her straw.

Lucy cleared her throat. “Do you work on every section or?”

Ona nudged Lucy under the table.

Sam chuckled. “I do work a lot of the hotel, si. I’m actually working in the entertainment tonight.”

“Of course you are.” Lucy muttered under her breath, Sam nor Ona heard her.

“So, Ona did you want to take up my offer for the message session?”

“What's this?” Lucy asked.

“Sam said I needed more work done to my upper thighs and lower back. She said I had a lot of tension there.”

“Si, I offered for her to have another treatment. Her body needs some extra attention in those areas. She's very tight. I could release her from that tension.” Sam smiled at Ona.

“I’ll definitely let you know. We have a few days planned.” Ona smiled, sipping on Sam's cocktail.

“Please do, it would be my pleasure.” Sam smirked as she walked away. 

Lucy could see the newspapers already. ‘Bronze turned boxer.’ or ‘Lucy Ali’ 

“She couldn't be any more obvious if she tried.” Lucy sneered.

Ona grabbed her hand, and kissed her knuckles. “It doesn't matter. It's you who I want. It's you who will be fucking me later. It's you who I love.”

Lucy couldn't hold back the shiver that kissed her skin. She leaned into Ona’s face, kissing the girl with a passion Ona hadn't felt in a while. Just as they pulled apart the lights dimmed, and the stage lit up. Music boomed in from the speakers, salsa dancers came onto the stage. 

The entertainment was amazing, the girls were enjoying themselves. The first show finished and the audience clapped for the dancers. 

It wasn't until a familiar face came on stage that Lucy felt her shoulders drop. Sam came on stage in traditional salsa wear. It was a very different sight for the uniform she wore before. She had a beautiful body, her curves sat in the black dress perfectly. The music began, her and the male partner danced the tango, it was undeniably one of the sexiest dancers two people could do. 

The dance came to an end, the crowd clapped loudly for Sam and her partner. They bowed and the male dancer walked off stage. 

“Thank you, now it is your turn. I need a partner. I'm going to pick two volunteers, and I don’t take no for an answer.” Sam’s eyes landed on the shorter brunette.

Lucy's stomach dropped.

Sam stepped down off the stage, she pointed at one man who stood up quickly, making his way on the stage. She didn't have to walk very far as she put her hand out for Ona to take.

Lucy could tell Ona wasn't sure what to do, her big brown doe eyes looked almost worried. Lucy didn't want that. Yes, she could be jealous and possessive but she wouldn't actually want Ona to feel like she couldn't do something because of her jealousy. That’s not how she wanted this relationship. 

Ona stared at her, needing some kind of confirmation, she wouldn’t do it if Lucy would genuinely be hurt. She saw the small smile and nod that Lucy gave her, giving her the green light. She took Sam’s hand, allowing her to be led to the stage. 

“Can I please have a round of applause for my volunteers. Please tell us your names.” 

“I’m Craig.” The guy smiled.

“I’m Ona.” 

Lucy did the loudest wolf whistle she could muster, causing Ona to giggle. 

“Okay, the challenge is to dance. Whoever can keep up with me wins. If you forget or falter you are out. The winner wins a bottle of champagne.” Sam said. 

Now, it doesn’t matter what the prize is. Ona and Lucy will want to win everytime, even if the prize is just to gloat. So, yeah, Lucy was going to cheer Ona on. Even if Sam was very obvious and wanted her girl. They needed to win. 

Sam went through some steps with the pair. Very basic at first, just a one, two step, dip kind of thing. Ona and Craig stayed on count. Lucy couldn’t help but watch as Ona’s hips made an easy step look so sexy. Sam gave them more steps, getting more technical and faster, the audience cheered as they kept up with her. 

“Well done, now we put it to the test. You will dance the steps. I will jump in with you, whoever can keep with me the longest, wins.” 

It would be impossible for either of them to keep up with her, she was a professional dancer, but that was probably the point. Sam pointed to the guy to go first. The music started and he began to dance, he kept up with the basic steps. The crowd cheered him on, he wasn't too bad. Sam then stepped closer taking his hands to dance with him. As soon as she made it faster he messed up. 

The audience clapped for his efforts. Sam strode up to Ona. The music started to play again and Ona did the steps. Lucy knew Ona could dance, she always looked so easy and free when she did, her body could move like a snake. So, she looked very natural with these steps. Sam then took Onas hands and began to dance with her, Lucy noticed Sam's hand placements straight away, one on her hip verging on her arse, the other clasped with her hand.

She made the steps quicker but Ona kept up easily, Sam pushed herself closer to the shorter girl, looking down at her. The girl was taller than Lucy, so Ona looked even tinier next to her. 

Sam smirked down at Ona, realising she could actually dance. She began to twirl Ona’s smaller body, bringing her back into her chest, faces inches from her own. If Lucy didn't hate Sam she would have thought it was actually quite sexy. Ona and Sam were wearing very samilair dresses, making the dance even more in sync. Sam spun Ona again and dipped her backwards. Ona must have hid this talent from Lucy because she was keeping up with Sam no problem, she looked like a professional dancer. Her face was as focused as it was on a football pitch. 

Sam brought her to her body again, Ona’s thigh slipped between Sams as they danced closely, Sam's hands slipped into Ona’s hair and made a circular motion. Ona’s eyes closed as she was moved around easily. Okay, yeah, Lucy was horny, and jealous?

Sam twirled the petite girl once more and brought Ona’s back to her chest. She brought her face close to Ona’s neck, her lips barely just touching Ona’s skin, then twirled her again. She began to slowly dip Ona backwards, her hand gliding up the girl's thigh, revealing her muscular leg. She pushed her thigh high, against her own body, it looked so sexual, it almost felt like you were interrupting something. Her face came close to Ona’s lips then, down her neck, then down her chest. 

Lucy was feeling many different feelings right now, and horny was the biggest one, but she was also so proud of Ona. She didn’t know the girl could dance like that. The music ended and Sam slowly brought Ona back up to her feet, both smiling and out of breath. 

The hotel guest jumped to their feet and cheered, including Lucy. Ona looked straight at her girlfriend, happy to see her smiling. 

Sam lifted Ona’s hand and bowled, she then took a step back to let Ona have the moment. Lucy looked at her girlfriend, she was slightly out of breath, her face was flushed, her once neat hair tousled. Lucy needed her. 

Sam whispered something in Ona’s ear but that girl was paying her no attention, she could feel the way Lucy was looking at her. In this very moment it was just her and Lucy, her green eyes were undressing her body. 

Sam brought over the cold champagne. “Ona, everybody!” The crowd clapped once more. Ona thanked Sam while taking her prize. She made quick steps towards Lucy. 

“Room. Now” 

That's all Ona needed to say and Lucy was up.

Ona gasped as her back hit the wall of their hotel room. Lucy’s mouth was all over her neck. Her tongue sucked, and licked at her bare skin. She was leaving marks. Ona could tell. She couldn't stop her even if she wanted to. Lucy was lost in a haze, biting and sucking her skin in between her lips. She wanted to mark the girl. Make a point that she was hers. No one else's. 

“Fuck, Luce.” Ona struggled to see straight. 

“You liked it didn't you? All day. Making me jealous? Hmm?” Lucy asked. 

Ona smirked. “Sí, I did.” 

Lucy hummed. “I guess I’ll have to remind you who you belong to.” She gave Ona a particularly sharp bite to the neck. Making the girl cry out. 

She grabbed the shorter brunette by the waist, her lips attached to hers. She kissed Ona deeply, almost roughly. She cradled the back of her head as she moved them to the foot of the bed. Ona moaned at the sheer strength of Lucy's tongue, pushing its way into her mouth, taking full control of the kiss. She pulled back.

“Strip. Get on the bed.” Lucy commanded. 

Ona nodded, striping herself of her clothes. 

The older brunette made her way to their suitcase, looking for her strap. Lucy removed her clothes, leaving her completely naked. She pulled the harness up her strong thighs, adjusting the thick strap between her legs. She heard a small gasp behind her. She turned around to see Ona on her back, her head on the pillows with her hand between her legs. Lucy smirked, she loved watching Ona pleasure herself, she would watch her all day if she could, but she would always end up replacing Ona’s hand with her own, or her mouth. 

She slowly walked over to the bed, Ona’s fingers were glistening with her juices, her eyes closed tightly as she circled her sensitive clit. Lucy watched as her girlfriend started to lose herself in her own pleasure, her small whimpers and whines making Lucy lose her calm resolve. She wanted to be inside her. She kneeled on the bed and slowly crawled to the petite women, trying not to make too much movement. She was like a moth to the flame, mesmerised by Ona, she couldn't take her eyes away from her glistening lips, her own mouth watering at the sight in front of her. 

The taller brunette brought her lips to Ona’s thigh, kissing the sensitive flesh. Ona smiled, feeling her girlfriends lips on her, she opened her eyes watching Lucy crawl closer to her.

“Kiss me.” Ona whispered. 

Lucy moved higher up Ona’s thighs, closer to her sex, Lucy could smell how wet Ona was, the buds on her tongue watering at the thought of tasting her. She couldn't wait any longer, she would normally tease Ona a lot more, kiss her all over her petite body, make her beg for her, but she had waited too long. She dipped her head to Ona’s core, causing Ona to move her hand away. She took one long lick up her folds onto the sensitive bud. 

“No, Luce kiss me, please.” 

Lucy lifted her head up, Ona was looking down at her, pleading for her. She could never deny Ona anything, especially like this. She crawled up to the shorter brunette, her body was so small under hers. She made sure to let the dick rub against Ona’s body as she moved, reminding her exactly what she was going to do to her. Reminding her exactly who Ona belonged to.

Ona squirmed as she felt the thick rubber press against her. She grabbed Lucy's face and brought their lips together. Ona tried to take control but Lucy didn't allow it, she roughly pushed her tongue into Ona’s making her gasp. The older brunette was losing patience, and Ona could tell. Her strong hips started to move against Ona’s body, she wanted to fuck her, she wanted to here Ona scream her name.

But so did Ona. She wasn't the only one who got riled up by jealousy tonight. Yeah, Lucy maybe had to endure it a lot more, but Ona also knew Lucy was about to wreck her. And she knew she could go for hours if she wanted to. And Ona needed to come now, not in a couple of hours, while Lucy made her beg. The petite girl wrapped her leg around Lucy's body and easily flipped them. Lucy was on her back with Ona on top, smiling down proudly at her own strength.

“You’re so easy Luce.” The shorter brunette whispered into her ear, making Lucy shiver.

“I’m going to ride your face until I’m satisfied, then you can do what you want with me. Does that sound good, baby?”

Lucy nodded quickly. This was the Ona people didn't get to see, (for obvious reasons.) The sweet doe eye Spaniard could be just as dominating as the brunette beneath her. Maybe even more.

She quickly crawled up Lucy's body, ready to take what she wanted from her. She planted her thighs next to Lucy's head and lowered her wet pussy onto Lucy's hot mouth. 

“Fuck.” Ona’s eyes closed as she dropped her head back. As soon as she felt Lucy's soft mouth on her painfully throbbing clit she couldn't wait. She moved her hips into Lucy's mouth, she snaked her fingers into the dark roots of Lucy's hair, and grinded her hips. Lucy wrapped her hands around Ona's hips, helping her guide her movements. She lapped at Ona’s cunt, her thick juices covered her tongue, the girl was wet. Lucy swallowed the mouthful of fluids, moaning as she felt the wetness glide down her throat.  

Ona had one hand in Lucy's hair the other on the head board, giving her full control in how she moved her body against Lucy's skillful tongue. She was dominating the situation, and Lucy was happy enough to be used for Ona’s pleasure. She loved when Ona took charge, the dominant energy in her would switch off so easily, and allow the normally softer lover to take what she wanted. 

Lucy wrapped her lips around Ona’s soft bundle of nerves, making the girl groan loudly, her hips becoming more rough. She knew Lucy could take it. She could feel the swell in her stomach grow. She grabbed Lucy's head with both hands and began to fuck her face, she could hear how wet she was as Lucy slurped on her velvety folds. 

“Hmm, Lucy, your mouth. Are you swallowing?” 

Lucy hummed. Ona had a kink for Lucy swallowing her essence, she loved to hear the girl's throat drinking her down. Especially when she came, she would hold Lucy's head down to make sure she cleaned and swallowed every bit of her up. Not letting her move until she was happy. 

Ona felt the tickling vibration from Lucy's mouth. She smiled down at the girl as she fucked her face. “Good girl. Make sure you swallow when I come.”

Lucy hummed again. Sending sweet vibrations into the petite girl. “Fuck, Lucy, Just like that, Dont stop.”

Ona grinded her hips deep into Lucy's mouth. Her thighs started to shake. The grip in Lucy's hair was almost painful. She let out a cry as she felt Lucy suck perfectly on her clit. She came hard against the girl's tongue. Lucy groaned as she felt Onas wetness slowly drip into her mouth. Swallowing it as loudly as she could. Ona slowed her movements, trying to catch her breath. She looked down at her beautiful girlfriend, licking and cleaning her up. She gently stroked Lucy's hair back. 

“You’re so good. So good.” 

Lucy hummed as she continued licking and swallowing, catching every drop she could. Ona didn't move, she stayed on Lucy's face, enjoying the feeling of her tongue stroking her sensitive folds. They stayed like this for a while, until Ona decided she wanted more. She began to move her hips again, gently this time. Allowing Lucy to move at the pace she wanted. 

Lucy looked up at Ona, she watched as her girlfriend's body gently rocked against her mouth. She looked breathtaking. Her long brown chestnut hair dripped down her chest and back, her eyes were closed as she was lost in the pleasure of Lucy's mouth. She began to make small whimpers as she approached her second orgasm. She came again, crying as she flung her head back in pleasure. Lucy swallowed and suckled just the way the Spaniard liked. Ona gasped as Lucy caressed her with her tongue, finally not able to take anymore, she lifted herself off the older girl and dropped on the bed beside her.

“Your mouth’s amazing.” Ona breathed out. 

Lucy chuckled, she sat up looking at Ona’s body next to her, she could see the bruises forming on her neck from her earlier assault. Her cunt was aching looking at her.

Lucy wasn't a rough lover, she definitely liked to take control and be in charge but she wasnt rough. But with all the emotions of jealousy running through her, seeing Sam's hands all over her girlfriend's body woke something up in her. She moved to the end of the bed, she leaned forward and grabbed Ona by her waist, easily moving the girl. Ona yelped.

“On your knees.”

Ona looked shocked by the sudden change in Lucy's mood. She dropped to her knees in front of Lucy. Ona saw the huge appendage between Lucy's legs, it was their biggest toy, Ona enjoyed using it now and again but a lot of the time Lucy had to go slow. So it wasn't their most used item.

Ona didn’t feel as cocky as she did before, staring down Lucy’s huge strap.

“Open.” 

Ona nodded her head, she opened her mouth and took in the tip of the dick. Lucy's hands snaked into her lose her, guiding her head down the dick. She stopped before she got half way, the girth of the toy was already stretching out her lips.

“That’s it baby.” Lucy started to move her hips forward, pushing Ona’s head back against the mattress. Ona’s hands were on the older brunette's thighs. Lucy removed her hands and pushed them above her head, onto the mattress. Making her press deeper into Ona’s mouth. The spaniard gagged as Lucy began to slowly fuck her face against the bed. 

“You look so good Ona, you're taking it so well. Don’t stop baby.” 

Ona felt the thick plastic slide its way down her throat. Ona could tell Lucy was definitely about to take out some pent up anger on her throat. And that was exactly what the Spaniard wanted, she knew she pushed Lucy today. 

Lucy’s hip started to pick up pace, she held Ona’s wrist in one hand the other gripping at her head. Ona moaned at the new speed, she could feel herself dripping, being used like this from Lucy was a rarity, Lucy looked down at Ona, her doe like eyes were prickling with tears. Her lips sliding up and down the appendage. 

“You drive me crazy Ona.” Lucy pushed deeper. 

Ona’s head was basically trapped between Lucy and the mattress, she could feel her breathing getting more difficult as the dick took up most of the space in her throat, restricting her of air. Tears were streaming down her cheeks now, she started to choke around Lucy's dick. Lucy pulled back, Ona gasped as air hit her lungs again. Her spit was attached to the tip of the strap. Lucy smiled down at her. 

“Take some more.” Lucy pushed her dick back to Ona’s swollen lips. 

Ona opened her mouth, ready for what Lucy would want to give her. 

“So, you enjoy making me jealous?” Lucy snapped.

Ona’s eyes squeezed shut as Lucy pushed herself deeper into her mouth. 

“You liked making me angry? Liked flirting with your little girlfriend?”

Ona moaned, angry Lucy was a sexy Lucy. Spit started to dribble from her mouth at Lucy's pace.

“Look at you, you love it don't you, Ona? You love being a little brat.” 

Lucy finally slid the whole strap down Ona’s throat, pushing the base perfectly against her clit. She rocked her hips into Ona’s face, thoroughly face fucking the girl. Ona began to choke on the thick plastic, tears rolled down her face.

Lucy pulled out of Ona’s mouth, not wanting to actually hurt the girl. Ona coughed and sputtered as she was able to breathe again. Lucy grabbed Ona by her arms and threw her on the bed like she was nothing, another thing Ona went wild for, Lucy's strength, the girl could carry her around like she was nothing, and when she was angry, like she was now, it would always came into play.

Lucy didn't wait around, she sunk two fingers into Ona’s core. The girl gasped at the new intrusion between her legs, Lucy couldn't help but smile at the beautiful noise that escaped Ona’s mouth. 

“So tight Ona, you need to open up for me.” Lucy purred in the girl's ear.

“Fuck, Luce.” Ona groaned, Lucy picked up the pace quickly, the obscene noise that came between Ona’s legs was pornagraphic. She was so wet from Lucy fucking her face, and Lucy knew it. Ona loved rough sex, Lucy did too, but she was always the one to make sure Ona was okay with everything they did. They had their colours, they knew the limits, and Lucy knew Ona would stop her if she ever needed to, the same went for Lucy.

Lucy removed her fingers from Ona and rubbed her wetness over the strap, covering the dick in Ona’s natural lube. The girl had a lot of it. She lined herself up, looking down at Ona’s pussy. 

“You ready baby?”

“Please Lucy, I need you.” 

Lucy pushed the head off the very girthy dick into Ona’s dripping cunt. She would normally let Ona get used to the thickness but today she didn't have the composure. She pushed her hips until she bottomed out into Ona, causing the girl to whimper with each inch that pushed past her tight walls. 

“Fuck Ona.” Lucy knew she couldn't actually feel it, but the noises Ona made alone drove her crazy. She started to grind her hips into Ona, the shorter girl whimpered in her ears as she took what Luct gave her.

“L-Lu- cy!” Ona groaned out as she felt Lucy speed up, the pain quickly turned into pleasure as her pusy swallowed her. 

“You’re mine, Ona.”  Lucy grunted.

“Si. Si. Yours.”

“Don’t ever forget that.” Lucy started to suck on Ona’s skin. Making more marks. 

Ona couldn't talk, the pace of Lucy's hips was unforgiving. Lucy was lost in her own world, fucking the girl beneath her. She grabbed Onas leg and lifted it over her shoulder, pushing herself ever deeper into the petite girl. She groaned at the tightness of the girl. Ona groaned deeply, swearing and muttering between English and Catalan. Lucy was working her body hard, all that pent up anger being used on her body, it only made Ona more wet, building up another orgasm.

Lucy could feel the base of the strap hitting her perfectly. 

“You’re taking it so well baby. You didn't even make me go slow, you’re so good. So good for me.” 

Lucy's words pushed Ona further to her climax. Her body was sweating underneath Lucys, the girl's stamina was a curse and a blessing.

“I’m going to come Lucy.” 

“No, just a little more baby. Wait for me, just a little more.” 

Ona gritted her teeth as Lucy used her body to chase her climax, her own knot in her stomach was stepping dangerously close to the edge. She knew if she came Lucy wouldn't stop, and she didn't think she could take that kind of work on her body right now. So she tried her best to hold on. 

Lucy's hips moved a fraction deeper inside the Spaniard, getting herself closer to her end goal. But it only made it harder for Ona. 

“L-L.” 

“Shhh baby.” Lucy brought her hand up to stroke Ona’s sweaty head. “You can take it. Just a little more. Give me a little more.” She grunted, closing her eyes, as her clit started to throb. She looked down at the beautiful girl below. Her big brown eyes looked up at Lucy, there was so much love in those eyes, so much trust. Pushing Lucy closer.

Ona sucked in her breath, she closed her eyes, her head was throbbing from the pressure of it all. Until she heard that unmistakable groan from the girl above. 

“Fuck, I’m coming.” 

Lucys hips pushed deeper into Ona, the girl let out a high pitched cry as she was finally allowed to come. Lucy let out a deep groan, her hips never stopping, until her body reached that perfect release, pushing the girl deeper into the mattress. 

“Fuck.” Lucy panted into Ona’s sweaty neck. She gently pulled out of the younger girl, flopping beside her.

“You okay?” Lucy looked over at Ona.

Ona smiled. “So good.” 

The girls caught their breath. Lucy slipped off the harness. Ona rolled over to her girlfriend, and began to kiss her neck, sucking and biting her sweaty skin. Lucy gathered Ona’s hair in one hand and guided her down her stomach. 

“Give me your mouth baby.” 

Ona happily did what she was told, and made her way down Lucy's body, kissing her abs on the way down. She slowly kissed her hips, then slowly made her way down to the crease of Lucys lips. But she didn't touch her where she needed her. She slowly kissed over her wet lips instead, and began to kiss her thighs. She knew Lucy didn't have the patience for her teasing. The older brunette grabbed her chin.

“Keep teasing me, and I’ll fuck you over that balcony and let your little girlfriend see how loud you can be.” 

Ona chuckled. “I love you.” She smirked.

Lucy groaned. This girl was such a fucking tease. She smiled and stroked Ona’s face lovingly. “I love you baby. Now let me come in that pretty mouth.”

Ona wrapped her lips around Lucy's swollen clit. Lucy hissed at the first touch, she wasn't going to last long at all. Ona moaned as her girlfriend's arousal soaked her tongue, she began to suckle on the bundle of nerves just the way she knew Lucy loved. The older brunette, entangled her fingers into Ona’s long hair and started to fuck her face. Ona moaned at the grip on her hair as Lucy used her body once more to get off. 

“Just like that. You look so beautiful like this.” 

Ona moaned at Lucy's words. The girl grinded her hips into her mouth as Ona’s tongue hit her clit over and over again. 

“I’m coming. Don’t stop.” She pulled Ona closer into her core, keeping the girl where she needed her. Ona felt Lucy’s juices cover her tongue, she groaned at the amount of sheer wetness that flowed into her mouth. 

“Onaaa.” Lucy looked down at the girl, her tongue lapped up at her soaking cunt. 

She let Ona stay there for a little while, until it got too much. She moved her head away, laughing at Ona’s pout when the girl didnt want to move. Ona laid next to Lucy kissing her neck and snuggling next to her girlfriend.

“Best holiday ever.” Ona whispered.

“Hmm and it's only the first day.”

[kreumiya]

★・ i'd let you read my mind!!

A short scenario if you and Sunday were both Halovian and he reads your mind while communicating telepathically when you deny that you were ever going to take him on a date as a joke when he comes late. :) 

Perhaps asking Sunday out on a date wasn’t the best idea. After all, you were a part of the family and had to uphold some kind of values. Asking your pretty boss out on a date was definitely not one of them. Not like you cared anyway. 

Holding a bouquet of flowers in one hand and a box of some mystery cupcakes that you had bought from some kid on the bustling streets of penacony, you walked through his long and winding hallways, solved the weird puzzles he had set up (they were actually quite hard but you’d gotten used to them) and into his office. Not many people were able to go into there unless they had a special appointment, but you were an exception. The only exception. 

“Sunday!” you called out. Somehow he was always cooped up in this office, it ought to be lonely sometimes – well maybe all the time… You paused. No answer. “Excuse me? Sunday…?” You yelled out again. Any longer and you were going to get quite annoyed.One of the only times when you could meet him and he’s out somewhere? You’ve got to be kidding me… “Uh-hum,” you cleared your throat, “Mr Sunday, leader of the Oak family and Representative of Penacony you have a visitor!” A few minutes passed and … no reply. You had specifically told him you were coming in 3 system hours. 

Screw it, you sighed, placing your gifts behind your chair and taking a seat on one of his plush velvet chairs. “If you don’t come now, I’ll eat all these cupcakes…” Pause. Silence. This room was genuinely like a prison, you couldn’t fathom how he could spend all of his days locked up in this place by himself like a bird in a cage. An hour passed by… 

And all of a sudden, the doors opened wide. “I’m so sorry, I’m late. I got caught up in some business.” 

“Late by an hour?” you sighed dramatically, “oh whatever shall I do? All my plans have been cancelled because I’ve waited here for so long.” You sulked, knowing full well that you did not have any other plans lined up for the entire week. “I had something planned for the two of us to do, but I guess not anymore…” you averted your gaze while suppressing a grin. 

He took a seat next to you, “what did you plan for us to do?” he asked thoughtfully, taking your hand in his and placing a kiss on it. 

“Ah well, since you came so late, I’ve had to cancel the plans,” you wistfully shook your head, trying to hide the fat bouquet of flowers behind your chair. “There’s not much I can do…” you began to get up before you heard something in your head. Sunday hadn’t been speaking but you had heard him trying to communicate with you telepathically, Damn Halovian powers… you smiled. 

So what is it?

Now all your thoughts would be relayed to him…

It was a date!! I wasn’t actually going to cancel it. I saw that you were pretty scared when I said I cancelled all my plans. I definitely tricked you didn’t I?

You shot him a beaming smile. Knowing full well that you did not trick him, you definitely forgot that Halovians were able to communicate telepathically, and that bouquet peeking out from behind your chair definitely didn’t help at all.

“Here you go,” you passed him the bouquet and then the box of cupcakes. “Now let’s go! We’re already running behind schedule by 1 hour and 14 minutes, we still have a lot to do you know!” You held his hand as you ran down the hallways while his other arm carried the bouquet and the half melted cupcakes. 

“Today will be a long day,” he laughed. 

i am actually so starved of sunday content and leaks its so sad