#I haven’t sat down to make refs yet

[leonisloresmith]

The nobles of the Coronet Highlands, circa 1803 (20~ years ago)

[missqhughes]

ON THE RECORD | Q. HUGHES43

-> quinn hughes x fem!reader

-> contains: dom!quinn, unprotected pnv, m!oral receiving filming sex, physical fighting, bruises and blood, sexual acts and themes, exgf!reader x vince dunn

-> IN WHICH: it’s the first canucks vs. krakens game of the season; and for quinn, this time it’s personal. when y/n’s ex has some words to say about their relationship, he shows both of them exactly who she belongs to.

-> locked in to this fic so hard bc i haven’t written in forever, so i finished writing it in the shower BUT NOT LIKE THAT I PROMISE. also there’s 100% discrepancies in real game play vs in this but please bare with me for the plot. (hope you love it as much as i do!)

*fic is not proofread

18+ CONTENT BELOW THE CUT

y/n was never nervous for a game.

but nothing could take away the ache she had leading up to this one.

it had been a while since her and quinn started dating, and he had it out for her ex since she told him all the horrible things he did to her; cheating, lying, hooking up with multiple women during the season, making a fool out of her publicly. however, she begged quinn not to start something; let bygones be bygones and leave it be, arguing how she left it all behind her. he agreed, knowing he didn’t want any bad press on himself; as captain and as someone the media knew wasn’t a fighter in the league.

y/n sat with her friend in the suite , fiddling with the sleeves of quinn’s jersey, eyes following where he was skating; he looked calm, focused, attentive to warm ups.

“dude, you need to calm down,” her friend laughed, noticing her obvious stress, “nothing is going to happen between them, i promise.”

y/n looked at her friend, “i know, i know. it’s just… quinn hates him. i know vince, and i know he can’t help himself from a fight. i’m just worried.”

“think quinn can’t handle himself?”

“no i know he can, i don’t want him risking getting hurt over something as stupid as a fight,” she retorted, gaze still fixed on the ice, “especially with vince.”

“i think you’re being dramatic,” her friend chuckled, taking a sip of her cold beer, “it’s just another game, no big deal.”

y/n sighed, shoulders relaxing a bit, allowing her friend’s reassurance to ease the tension in her body, “yeah, you’re right. just another game,” she said, cheering her cup with hers.

——————————————————————————

CANUCKS 3 - KRAKEN 2 / 3RD PERIOD

quinn was good at keeping his cool.

he had to, after all.

he ignored the glares from vince, his attempt at intimidation lingering through the entire game.

they didn’t come close in contact, until during a time out, quinn heard a voice call out at him,

“y/n here tonight? bet she came just for me,” vince chirped, a sinister, smug look on his face as he skated past him.

quinn stayed stone faced.

further into the final period of the game, he felt a body slam into his, nearly losing his balance and almost falling into the boards,

the whistle blew, and quinn was met yet again with vince’s hubristic stance,

“saw you’re with her now, how’s that goin for you? bet i come up a lot,”

vince spat, quinn skating closer to him, his temper beginning to spark in his body,

“get over it bud. she’s done with you.” quinn said calmly, the other players around the ice not aware of the situation brewing beside them.

“look hughes, you’re not special,”

with each word, the kraken gets closer and closer to quinn, puffing his chest and spewing hate, the hands in his gloves in the beginning of curling into fists,

“it was just you to get over me,”

quinn’s jaw tightened,

vince laughed bitterly, “she’s a slut, you tonight someone else tom-”

vince couldn’t even finish his sentence before quinn shoved him hard, both their gloves dropped as they fought, quinn bringing him down to the ice, delivering blow after blow to his face.

it all happened so fast, y/n heard the pounding on the glass, cheering on a fight, and feeling her stomach twist when she saw 43.

oh god.

none of the refs were able to get quinn off of him alone, his fists not stopping until they were bruised and bloody, matching the wounds on vince’s face.

quinn was panting with anger, face tinted crimson, a light bruise forming on his cheekbone where vince had landed a punch. he couldn’t feel the near splits in his knuckle, too riled with adrenaline to feel anything but rage.

——————————————————————————

fortunately enough, the canucks ended the game with a win, but that didn’t change how fired up y/n knew quinn was going to be when she saw him.

she was allowed to be in the locker room during post game interviews, and she watched nervously as interviewers swarmed and crowded quinn, bombarding him with questions.

he was asked about the fight, detail, if vince had said anything to set him off, the why as a captain, he would start something on the ice.

quinn’s expression remained nothing short of blank, refusing to answer any questions regarding it, pursing his lower lip, “nothing to say about that. keep it about hockey and that’s it.”

after post game reports had finished, y/n waited outside by the doors for quinn to come out.

she didn’t know how he was going to be when he came out, pacing with worry about what the media would twist this game in to.

y/n heard the heavy doors click open, quinn in a lazy rendition of his suit, walking over to her; the bruise on his cheek deeper in color than when she initially saw.

“hey baby,” she said softly, opening her arms for quinn to embrace without hesitation.

“hey,” he replied, tightening their hug before pulling away, “cmon, we need to go home.”

quinn didn’t give y/n a chance to respond when he hooked his hand into hers, leading her to his dark tinted car in the lot.

y/n slid into the passenger seat while quinn loaded his gear into the trunk, she looked out the window until the driver’s side door clicked shut.

she looked over at quinn, an unreadable look on his face; he said nothing, instead putting the car in drive to go back to their shared apartment.

the drive home was silent.

the only sound being the hum of the car engine and their steady breaths. quinn always had his hand on her leg when he drove, but this time his hand was a little higher, his grip a little tighter, all whilst he kept his gaze fixed on the road. y/n’s breath would hitch ever so slightly when his fingers kneaded into her skin.

——————————————————————————

quinn was still quiet even after getting home.

frustrated, y/n spoke out, “quinn, what did vince say to you?” she said with a sigh,

“shit about me. about you. us.” he mumbled, taking off his suit jacket and undoing the black tie he had on.

“so, that’s reason enough to give me the silent treatment all the way home? you’re acting like that was my fault,”

“i never said it was your fault.”

“you don’t have to! it doesn’t take a lot to know you’re upset,” she retorted,

“y/n,” quinn started, walking over to where she was standing, holding her by the neck when he kissed her roughly, biting her lip when she moaned lightly into his mouth.

he tapped the back y/n’s of legs, and she jumped hooking her legs around his waist without objection.

quinn waltzed them to the bedroom, their kiss nowhere close to cooling off. quinn lightly tossed her on the bed, lips peeling off hers to suck and bite on the exposed skin of her neck.

y/n groaned lightly, beginning to unbutton his collared shirt, when quinn pulled off of her, leaving y/n with furrowed brows.

“quinn, what’s wrong?” she said, propping herself up on her arms, looking up at her boyfriend, confused.

“wait here baby,” he said, leaving the room.

she nodded, and about 15 seconds had passed when quinn returned to the room, his phone in hand with the camera app already opened.

“you want to make a movie huh?” she said, beginning to peel off the jersey that housed quinn’s name.

“only for our number one fan. leave the jersey on,” he said, “but everything else, off. now.”

y/n nodded, slipping down her pants and thong, her pussy already aching with the desire quinn had filled in her.

quinn swiftly undid his belt with one hand, lowering his pants and boxers to leave his hard length exposed.

“c’mere, suck.”

y/n obliged, moving down to her knees to meet quinn at hip length, the phone flash shining brightly in her face when she took the tip of his dick and swirled it around her tongue.

quinn groaned, moving his free hand to pull y/n’s hair into a ponytail with his fist. his breath quickened, y/n taking all of him in, bobbing up and down; quinn’s hips matching her rhythm.

he had almost forgot he was recording her, but when her lashes fluttered up to perfectly view the camera whilst she sucked him, quinn knew he was close to cumming.

quinn groaned louder, fucking y/n’s face, her moans sending vibrations on his dick that pushed him to his release. he pulled out of her mouth right when he was about to cum, y/n sticking her tongue out to collect his release.

god he was loving this.

he stopped the video as she wiped the leftover release from her face, pulling her up for a sloppy hot kiss.

quinn pulled away, the two panting with puffy lips, “bed, ass up, baby. now.” he instructed, reopening his phone for the perfect view.

“yes captain,” y/n said, just ready for whatever quinn had in store for her, her wetness beginning to seep down and stick to her inner thighs, burning for him to touch her.

after hitting record, quinn wasted no time aligning himself with her, pumping in and out a few times before going fully in, his hips meeting her ass, eliciting moans from the two of them.

his pace was rapid and brutal, moving her hair away from her and back into his hands, revealing to the camera the “hughes” jersey she was wearing.

“fuck, quinn! mm, so good— my god, fuck,” y/n moaned, echoing with the sound of their skin slapping against one another, her noises music to quinn’s ears.

he continued to pound hard into her, y/n’s knuckles white from how hard she gripped into the sheets, feeling her stomach tighten, about to reach her high.

quinn felt her pussy tighten around him, knowing she was close, “gonna cum baby? go ahead, cum,” he husked, coming to his second of the night.

she screamed in pleasure, her cunt coating his dick, mixing with his as he filled her up with his release.

quinn pulled out of her slowly, giving time to show the camera a view of her dripping puffy pussy, ending the video with a hard smack on her ass.

y/n yelped, falling into the bed. quinn turned her around, gently kissing her in her dazed state.

“you okay baby?” he asked gently, caressing her face with his thumb,

“mhm, but i think you killed me. i’m exhausted,” she laughed, quinn smiling and bringing his lips down to peck hers, “sorry, want me to go start a shower for us?”

“you know me so well,”

quinn crawled off of her, grabbing his phone before slipping into the bathroom,

he opened instagram, typing in vince’s username into the search bar, itching as he opened their messages tab.

——————————————————————————

© missqhughes

xoxo, kaia

[bucknastysbabe]

Omg if you haven’t done cumming in pants yet I think it would be perfect for Jacaerys. Like he’s so dutiful he would never be with a girl before marriage but that’s not to say he doesn’t have urges. He’d be so embarrassed about it too!! Love your writing

So I have two requests with this prompt but I love it so much I’ll do both🤣🤣

Kink Bingo - C*mm*ng in pants

Rating: Mature

Tags: Incest, modern!au, sexy sun tan rubs, plotting, hightowgaryen!reader, Jace is so innocent, cumming in pants, fluffy, beach days, plus sized!reader

A/N: they need to make better plus sized ref pictures smh

It was going to be a summer of the ages, they said on the news. The dreary and rainy spring had opened up to the heat. Heat in King’s Landing was no joke. You thought about zipping down below the Castle to the Blackwater. There you could just strip and swim. It was quiet down there but you didn’t want to be alone.

You sent a text to your cousins and siblings, inviting them to join you.

You frowned as everyone declined. Even Rhaena, who always enjoyed your excursions. She’s been busy with studies, you reminded yourself. You flopped back onto the huge bed, pale strands stark against the black sheets. Huffing dramatically you decided to change and go down by yourself.

Firstly, a bag needed to be prepared with a towel, umbrella, and tons of sunscreen. Targaryens could tan. Not you. Jace tanned easy, but he didn’t have the classic Valyrian traits. You missed your favorite cousin, he was so sweet and kind. Jace had been sucked into the land of politics with his mother.

Being the younger of your siblings, everyone oft dismissed you as the baby. Same occurred with Rhaena and Daeron. You smiled to yourself at how they didn’t understand, pulling out a skimpy black thong bikini. The top was just as threadbare, leaving little to the imagination.

While braiding your hair back in a Pentoshi style your phone pinged.

‘Jace🥰’ read on the screen. Blushing and scrambling you opened the text. He had written, “I’m still in a meeting, meet you down there with drinks?” You could squeal. But then Aegon would hear from next door and cuss you out, because he was always hungover like that.

Targaryens used to intermarry. Not any more. So you could just ogle your cousin shamefully and eventually get married off to someone. You wanted to study in Essos. There was the chance for a mate. Gathering your things you hustled down the cavernous keep.

The beach was quiet and pristine per usual. You laid down the towel and fiddled with the umbrella until it stood. Dumb rocky beach. A devious thought popped into your head. You’d act on it when Jace arrived. Meanwhile you’d take a nice swim.

You floated on your back idly, face shaded with sunglasses. “Playing dead?,” your cousin hollered. Perking up you stepped down onto the rocky seafloor, waving. With a smile you called back, “I was hoping you’d save me like when we were children on Driftmark.” You eyed his perfect tan, accentuated by a opened linen shirt and short red trunks. He had a dreamy body.

Jacaerys held up some beers, clinking while he laughed, “Do you need me to swim a beer out to you?” You shook your head and waded in, black cloth sticking to your curves. Jace was busying himself setting up a chair, eyes bugging as you drew near. He coughed, face reddening as he held out an opened bottle.

You swiped it and thanked the prince, turning to your spot so he could see your ass on display. More coughing and metallic clanking ensued. You sat down as he managed, “Alicent let you out in that?” His eyes were hidden by shades but you had an inkling where they were plastered.

You’d gotten your cousin flustered before but usually it was interrupted. Now all the cards were in your hand. With a purr you leaned back, stretching pale skin, “She doesn’t have to know everything, Jace.” You took a swig as he mumbled something under his breath.

“How was the meeting?”

He groaned in displeasure, “The less we talk about it the better, the parliament members of the Reach might be the most boring people of all time.”

You cocked your head, musing, “Farmers elevated to positions of power, figured. What shall we discuss, Jacey?” You cackled at his scowl from the dreaded childhood nickname. Jacaerys stretched his legs and got up.

“I’ll think of something after I take a dip,” the brunette commented while shucking off his linen top. You took another drink, transfixed by his toned body. Rhaenyra probably had a twitch in her eye somewhere— a green gaze on her precious boy.

Jace dived and paddled around for a suspiciously long time. Maybe it was because you had flipped on your belly, pert ass on display. Eventually you heard the crunching of his footsteps. Head pillowed on your arms you asked sweetly, “Jacey? Do you think you could put some sunscreen on my back? I feel myself already burning.”

He cleared his throat, steps pausing. Jace weakly joked, “Can’t do it yourself? Such a princess.” You whined, sliding down your shades to give the Velaryon puppy eyes. “Please? I don’t want streaks! C’monnn!”

Jace huffed and discreetly tried to readjust himself. His cheeks were flaming and you knew it wasn’t from just the heat. Breathlessly the prince asked, “Where is it?” You chirped, “In the bag, use the 60SPF.” That was the thickest lotion, Jace would have to work for it.

He grunted his assent, rifling through the bag and moving toward your side and squatting down. The cap clicked, you shifted minutely in anticipation. Your cunt was slicking your folds. Jace slathered the thick white lotion between his hands, breath sweetly hitching when he made contact to your heated back.

You sighed in pleasure as he slathered in the sunscreen. Jace methodically rubbed circles into your upper back. You reached back and untied your strings, your lovely cousin letting out of the smallest of whimpers. He wheezed, “I don’t think the th-the string is going to make a difference.”

You shrugged, “My bad, you can tie it back.”

“No, no, it’s fine.”

He lowered his hands to your lower back. Your skin was pulsing and Jace was practically panting. His thigh kept bumping into your own, trembling as he bit his plump lip. You demurred, “Is it too much if you keep going, it feels soo good.”

Jacaerys nodded shakily, murmuring a weak, “S-sure.” Your eyes subtly flicked to his cock. You could see it pulse, a dark mark on the top. Gods it was thick too. You gulped, pussy twitching again. Jace audibly swallowed a moan as his huge hands rubbed the lotion into your ass.

His breath was staccato now, hands somewhat groping at your malleable flesh. Jacaerys stammered your name, hands gripping as he gasped and whimpered. His breath ended in a wheedle of your name, hands retracting as if he was burned.

You jerked up, twisting to gape at your cousin. His shades had fallen, pupils blown and lips bitten bee stung. His shorts were stained now, cock softening. He looked as if he were going to cry.

You whispered, “Did you just?”

Jace whined, “Oh gods, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, I’ve dishono-,” you cut him off by launching onto the brunette with a kiss. He yelped and big hands wrapped around your slick waist as you writhed against him. It was to be a good day indeed as he whimpered under you.

[anthonysstupiddailyblog]

Anthony’s Stupid Daily Blog (359): Sat 11th Mar 2023

The Lakers are in ninth place with 33 points and number 8 the Timberwolves are on 34 so all I need is for the Lakers to go on a short winning streak and for the Timberwolves to either go on a losing streak or die. Part of me is hoping that the Lakers / Clippers game I go to see will be box ticket and the Lakers will have already scored enough points to the playoffs. The tension would be great if it was a critical game that the Lakers needed to win in order to get to the playoffs but if they lost I’d be furious.

Tuned into the New Japan Cup Night Four. One notable non-tournament match featured Tanahashi and Okada taking on Ren Narita and Shota Umino. It's moments like this where I sometimes wish that New Japan was a it more like WWE, building feuds through storylines and promos instead of just through in-ring action. This could be a great feud and culminate in a classic match that would give Narita and Umino the rub. Imagine if week one Narita and Umino win the tag titles then backstage Okada and Tanahashi says that they will be as good as them "some day". Umino and Narita naturally get offended to challenge Tana and Okada to a title defense but they get brushed off saying they wouldn't stand a chance. next week Narita and Umino beat the shit out of Tana and Okada, sending them to the hosptial. Two weeks later Tana and Okada return to fight them off and say "We were hoping you would do that, we weren't sure you had it in you to step up to the biggest dogs in the yard. We accept your challenge" and the feud culminates in a tag match at Dominion where Tana and Okada win but commend Narita and Umino and challenge them to a rematch at next year's Dominion. There's so many things you could do storyline-wise with these four but it's just not the way it's done in Japan. The first Cup match of the night was Tetsuya Naito taking on Chase Owens. I really want to like Chase Owens because in terms of in ring his style is unique and stands out among all the strikers, the high fliers and the grapplers that make up the New Japan roster. Owens is clearly a student of the old school American territory style of wrestling. He does moves that are old but look new by today's standards because modern wrestleing fans are used to chops and elbows being thrown around in 90% of matches, they don't see someone hitting clised fisted punches to an opponent they have in a headlock. So I feel like I should really like this guy but there's something I just haven't latched onto yet. I think it's because although hes got the in-ring down pat he doesn't exactly exude personality and he's not in the best shape. There was a moment in the match where I though Chase had it won when he hit a modified Styles Clash on Naito off the middle rope but Naito kicked out at two. Naito won the match but much like with his match against ELP he did it with an opportunistic rollup. Strange booking for Naito as logic would dictate he would win his matches against lowercard performers decisively and then maybe need to get a quick rollup after a gruelling matchup with Okada or Shingo. The main event feaured Sanada taking on Kenta from Bullet Club. When Kenta first debuted he generated a lot of buzz as due to being a long time NOAH guy he was initially rejected by the New Japan faithful and then in a genius move that got him a lot of heat just as they were starting to accept him he jumped ship to Bullet Club. Since then he hasn't done all that much and feels like a bit of a placeholder in the Bullet Club (but hopefully now that Jay White has left he'll be appointed the leader of the stable. I'd also like to see him get a run in Impact as the world champion as I think he'd be a great fit there). These two put on a good match although there was a confusing spot in the middle where Kenta, mocking Sanada's Paradise Lock, used wrist tape to connect Sanada's wrists to his ankles so he couldn't get up and when Red Shoes the ref helped untie him Kenta his a baseball slide dropkick. If you're going to do a comedy match in the New Japan Cup I'm not sure that Kenta vs Sanada is the one to do it.

[huggybug]

i hope it’s okay, i got busy and couldn’t do it earlier

“good luck out there babe” nick tells you before you head off to the locker room

“thank you. i need it this is going to be a tough match” you say

“that okay. you got this and just remember my motivation” nick says as he smirks and grabs your hips, pulling you close

“don’t start. i’m not going to be able to focus” you say placing you hands on him

he laughs and kisses you, not wanting to let go. “y/n stop making out and get in here”

you blush and pull away from him. “sorry”

you get your gloves on as you walk over to your goal. let’s out a breath and shaking out all your nerves the ref blows the whistle and the first half in underway. like you said before this wasn’t going to be an easy game. the ball came flying at you for all directions. you were so glad you were keeping it together and haven’t let one in yet.

“that’s my girl.” nick yelled as you made an amazing save. you could pick his voice out in any crowd. hearing his voice helped calm you down and to stay focused.

As the time ticked down for the first half. you started to get more comfortable, maybe a little too much. you were deeked out by a player and the ball slipped past you.

“that’s okay baby, it happens. don’t let it get to you” nick yelled

during the second half you were able to keep the ball out. helping your team win 2-1.

After the game you headed back to nick’s place, where his teammates just happen to not be. “i’m not going to lie i did not keep track. i was too distracted by how good your ass looked in your shorts” nick confesses

you laugh “i had five really good saves” you tell him

nick smirks “then i’ll make you cum with my tongue five times” he says as you enter his house.

“i don’t know baby, i’m so tired. I just want to sleep”

“well it’s a good thing you don’t have to do anything then”

you didn’t realize you were wet until nick ripped off your underwear. he sat between your legs as he kissed you down from your knee to your opening.

“you ready baby?”

you nod “i don’t think i’ll be able to cum five timmmmmes” you says as he started licking up and down your slit

“holy shit” you groan as he starts to suck on your clit

you throw your head back in the pleasure. you grab at his hair bringing him closer, if that was even possible.

“fuck nick, i’m cumming” you yell as you arch your back

he pulls back a little “four more to go” he smirks

you just pushes his head back down and kept him there just your leg over his shoulder. he got right back to work. this time making sure you don’t move too much.

-nick smut anon :)

[hummingbird-of-light]

Against All Odds

Part 33

McCoy

McCoy listened attentively to Christine as she explained the rivalry that was playing in front of them. Her friend was quieter, cheering and groaning as people on Jim’s team were outed.

“So, you came here with that Vulcan, right?” Christine asked.

“Spock? Yes.”

“He’s kinda cute,” Christine said. “Think he’d be interested in meeting?” She fluttered her eyes at McCoy.

“Spock?” he chuckled. “Sorry Christine, but I think he already has his eye on another blond.”

“Ugh. Who?”

McCoy pointed at the field. “Jim. Or at least Jim is into him.”

“Damn that Kirk,” Christine huffed, but McCoy could hear the humor in her voice. “What about you Leonard? Met anyone who’s caught your eye here yet?”

Warmth crawled up his face.

“No.”

“That’s a lie,” Christine laughed. “Who is it?”

“No one,” McCoy denied.

“Is it me?” Christine exclaimed. “Oh Leonard, you’re too kind, but I don’t think I’m looking for a prince.”

At that Jaylah turned to stare in shock at her friend. All McCoy could do was laugh at the girl’s boldness. He hoped there were more people in this school like her and Jim and Scotty who treated him normally.

“No, not you, sorry. But we can be friends if you’d like.” He finished the sentence hesitantly.

“Sure,” Christine said. “I’d like that.”

“Me too,” McCoy said.

“Shh,” Jaylah said. The rest of the crowd had gone quiet watching Jim and Khan make the last plays. Jim made a sudden leap and then Khan was done.

“Khan is out. Team Gold wins!” called the ref. A crowd went racing forward towards Jim and moments later he was on the shoulders of his team.

Scotty was part of the crowd surrounding Jim and he was looking at McCoy. McCoy smiled back and felt a tingle down his spine. This was going to work. McCoy would circle in through other students, making friends until Archer saw that he was friends with all kinds of people. Then he’d circle in close on the boy he wanted to be friends with most. He looked across at Scotty again, but Scotty was talking to Jim again.

“Oh, are they here?” Christine asked him. “Who is it? I won’t tell.”

McCoy shook his head at her, but he was smiling. Christine was going to be a fun person, he could tell. Though he wouldn’t be telling her any secrets until he knew her better.

“They’ll ring for dinner soon,” Jaylah said.

“True,” Christine agreed. “Are you coming down to the lounge after or going to keep hiding away from all us little people?” she asked McCoy.

“I’ve… I’ve had work to finish,” he stumbled over his words. “And you aren’t ‘little people.’ Everyone is important.”

“I’m joking,” Christine grinned. “People were beginning to say you’re stuck up cause you haven’t spent time with anyone but your Vulcan friend. But here you are.”

McCoy frowned at that. That was what he was here to work against. Perhaps Christine would be a good help in meeting others.

“I haven’t quite learned what everyone does around here when not in class,” he offered.

“Well, come down tonight and we’ll introduce you to some other fun people,” Christine said.

“Sure,” McCoy agreed.

“Maybe then you can point out who this love of yours is,” Christine grinned at him.

“There isn’t… no, no,” he shook his head but Christine just laughed.

“Uh huh.”

She was wrong. There wasn’t any… any love involved. He barely knew Scotty. They were going to be friends. That was all. Friends.

Then why had he thought about kissing him more than once now? Why had his eyes slipped down to look at the other boy's lips?

No. He put a stop to the thoughts. Friends. He and Scotty would be friends.

Part 34

Scotty

After the game they had dinner. Leonard had sat down next to him but he knew that he had to avoid him. At least with Archer around.

Still, it sent his heart racing to feel Leonard that close. From time to time their knees bumped against each other and shivers ran down his back.

“Could you hand me the salt?“ Leonard asked him and Scotty turned his head around.

‘Right… Leonard said that he’d talk to me with Archer around.’

He just had to treat him like a prince.

“O-of course yer highness.”

He reached over for the caster and handed it to Leonard who smiled gently.

“Thank you Scotty. But please, call me by my name.”

Leonard said the last part extra loud so that Archer would hear it. If it was the prince’s wish than the head of the house couldn’t forbid it to Scotty.

“Uhm, sure… Leonard.”

They chatted about the game, every part of conversation initiated by Leonard. Scotty often pretended to try and look away but he couldn’t be impolite to the prince, now could he?

When they finished dinner, Scotty quickly got up.

“I’m sorry yer high-, I mean Leonard, but I’ve got to finish some homework.”

Leonard looked honestly disappointed. Scotty wasn’t sure if it was because of their act for Archer or if he really was that sad about him leaving.

Scotty left the room but not without glancing at Archer one last time. The man looked surprised by Scotty’s behavior. Obviously he couldn’t believe that Scott was actually following his orders.

When Scotty nearly was out of the door, he caught a glimpse of Archer walking over to Leonard.

His heart rate was speeding up. Would the man really talk to Leonard about this? And… what would Leonard say if he did?

So many questions filled his head and kept him worried. In his quarters, he lay down on the bed and stared at the ceiling.

He hoped that Leonard wouldn’t get in trouble. Because… it wouldn’t be fair! Just because he was a prince he couldn’t choose his own friends? That was horrible!

Scotty twisted and turned, waited for some time to pass. Then he grabbed his PADD and wrote a message.

*You’re alright? What did Archer want?*

God, this was troubling him so much. Why was he so concerned? Maybe he was scared that their plan didn’t work out. That something would go wrong. What if someone had heard them in the library? What if someone had told Archer about it?

Horrifying scenarios filled his mind until his PADD bleeped. There was a message!

[restlessfandoming]

“the president and the troublemaker” (part 9) (chilumi fic)

“Lumine is the student council president and Childe is the school’s number one troublemaker. They cross paths more than they’d like. Especially when Childe finds out Lumine’s big secret. Highschool AU à la Kaichou wa Maid-sama.”

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 5] [part 6] [part 7] [part 8]

my brain b decayin luv 

[Fic Masterlist] // [AO3 Link] // [Main AO3]

the president and the troublemaker (part 9)

Was this a hallucination? 

Had Lumine been out in the sun for too long? 

Surely, there was no way she was about to fight Childe of all people. 

And yet, there he stood, with that stupid grin of his, stretching his arms across the ring from her. 

“What are you doing here?” Lumine said through gritted teeth. 

“And let you have all the fun, all alone? No way,” he teased. He stretched his arms upwards, his gray tank top riding up as well, exposing well-sculpted abs (which of course made a gaggle of girls screech nearby). He caught sight of Lumine’s gaze, and laughed. “Aren’t you a little hot in that t-shirt, Lumi?” 

Bastard. 

Lumine would’ve obliterated the ground underneath that smirking ginger if she could. 

“Hey, ref,” she said to the man sitting on the lifeguard chair behind her. “Any illegal moves we can’t do?” 

The man pondered for a second. “Not really—we’re pretty casual here.” He laughed. “Just make sure you guys don’t hurt each other too much.” 

“No promises,” Lumine muttered, marching to the center of the ring. 

Childe copied her movements, and eventually stood before her. “Looks like we’re the last two left,” he said. “I wonder who will become champion of this little competition?” 

Lumine didn’t respond, instead choosing to glare up at him. 

He tilted his head curiously. “Lumine…,” he asked lowly. “Did I really hurt you earlier?” 

No, you didn’t hurt me. She didn’t know what he was doing to her. 

Her life was going perfectly fine, the exact way she had planned, until Childe found out her secret. Not only did he find out her secret, he had inserted himself into her life, and left her a swirling mess of confusing feelings—feelings she had never experienced before nor any idea of how to deal with them. He said he loved her. 

“Ready!” the referee shouted. 

Lumine raised her fists up. 

Childe mimicked her with raised brows. “That doesn’t really look like a wrestling stance to me.” 

The referee blew the whistle—the match had begun. 

Lumine immediately swung forward with a punch, to which Childe blocked easily with his forearm. 

His eye twitched. “Are you sure you want to do this?” 

Lumine swung again, with her other arm, and Childe quickly moved back, out of the way. The crowd around them broke into hushed murmurs as the realization set in that this was not a normal match.

Childe shook out his hands, then raised them back up, cocking his head from side to side. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” With a grin, he lunged towards her with a fast and powerful swing. 

Lumine felt the air blow past her face as she jumped back, her palm catching his other fist as it came in quick succession milliseconds after. She shoved his hand away, with her leg darting out in an attempt to sweep him off his feet. 

He jumped, and using the brief window of distraction, she swung at his face again. At the last second, his hands caught her forearm, and she was now stuck in his vice grip. 

“Come on, Lumine,” he breathed. “Tell me what’s wrong.” 

She tried pulling her arm away, to no avail. “You,” she hissed. 

His grip loosened, just a bit, and Lumine yanked her arm out. 

“Me?” he asked. “What about me exactly?” 

“Everything.” She threw a jab at his face. “Everything you do.” Another jab. “You tease me. You confuse me.” A sweep with her foot. “I don’t know what’s happening to me—because of you.”

Childe dodged every single one of her moves, though his brows were now furrowed in concentration, and a slick sheen of sweat glistened on his face; they were tiring each other out. At this rate, neither one of them would win. Lumine’s frustration grew, bubbling and festering deep in her gut. 

“If you want me to stop,” Childe said, “I will.” He threw a punch at her. “Say the word, and I’ll go away.” Each word he said was punctuated with a swing at her, backing her up further and further. 

Do I want him to disappear?

If he did, her life could go back to normal—she could go back to normal. 

And yet, part of her knew it wouldn’t feel right.

He had really taken her out of her comfort zone, broadened her horizons. Made her a better fighter. A better person. 

Childe wasn’t the problem. The problem was her: it was her frustration and her inability to figure out how she felt about him.

“Do you really hate me, Lumine?” Childe asked. 

No. 

I like you, you idiot. 

She stepped back, ready to answer through her fists. What she didn’t realize, however, how far back she was, and she crashed directly into the referee’s chair. 

There were sharp gasps from the audience as she fell onto her back, the wind knocked from her lungs, too stunned to roll out of the way as the tall metal chair came tumbling down on her. She could only shut her eyes, and brace for impact. 

The unmistakable hollow sound of metal against skin resounded in her ears. But she didn’t feel anything. She opened her eyes. 

Poised above her was Childe, his hands on either side of her head, while his body shielded hers; his face was twisted in pain. 

“Childe?” Lumine whispered. 

He opened his eyes, and upon seeing her gazing right back at him, he forced a meek smile. 

“Hey, girlie,” he said, strained. “You okay?”

“Y-yeah.” She put a hand on his chest, gentle, trying to help stabilize his shaking arms. “What about you?”

A heavy huff of a breath. “I’m fine.”

The chair was lifted off of him as spectators gathered around the two, a swirl of questions and calls for medical attention. 

As he sat up, Lumine sat up as well, her hand subconsciously clutching the front of his shirt, holding him close as her concern grew. 

Childe kept persisting he was fine to everyone around, but when someone behind noted a large bruise was blossoming across his back—so large it was visible through his top—Lumine turned him around and examined it herself. 

Her fingers traced the injury, and when Childe winced, she told him they were going to the nearest clinic—no arguments. After a hasty call to Kaeya and Aether explaining the situation, the two were sitting in one of the clinic’s rooms, waiting for the doctor. 

“I told you, I’m fine,” Childe repeated from his seat on the exam table. “It’s just a bruise. It’ll go away.”

“You really don’t like getting your injuries treated,” Lumine huffed from her chair nearby. “You didn’t even want to go to a hospital after diving off a building.” 

He shrugged with a smile. “What can I say? I like to test the limits of my strength.”

Lumine rolled her eyes. “You’re not invincible, you know.” 

“I’d like to think so.”

“Jesus, who let your ego grow this much?” 

“I haven’t died yet, so there’s nothing to prove I’m not invincible.”

Lumine stood, and poked at his back. She saw his muscles jolt and scoffed. “You sure about that?”

Childe leaned back on his hands. “Injuries and scars mean nothing if I’m still breathing.” 

Lumine looked at him curiously. “What kind of mentality is that?” 

He looked back at her, his blue eyes dark in thought. Then, he grabbed the collar of his shirt, and pulled it over his head. 

Immediately, Lumine slammed her eyes shut, even throwing her arms over her face to block out her vision completely. “What are you doing?!” she managed to squeak out. 

There was a soft chuckle from Childe, and before she knew it, he had gently grabbed her hand, guiding it towards it, until she felt her fingers flat against his chest. She let out another squeak as her hand felt his bare skin.

Though it definitely didn’t feel normal. It felt smooth, unnatural. Lumine opened one eye to peek. 

There was a large pinkish-white scar etched on his sternum. A knife wound of sorts. Right by the heart. Life threatening.

“Some no good scumbags did this to me when I was young,” Childe explained. “Insignificant now, but maybe the reason I push myself so much. Nothing will ever come close to this life-or-death moment.” 

Lumine’s entire system felt dry as she imagined a little boy with a smattering of orange hair and bright blue eyes with this wound, gaping of blood. What kind of monsters…? “Do...Do you know who did this to you?” Lumine didn’t realize how hoarse her voice sounded until she heard her nearly trembling voice spill out. 

Another chuckle, a little darker this time. “What? Are you going to get revenge for me?” 

Lumine’s eyes stung. “You’re not angry? Upset that some monsters out there nearly killed you? When you were only a kid?”

“Woah, woah, woah.” Childe let out a sheepish laugh. “Didn’t mean to make you upset, Lumine.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat, straining to keep the tears at bay. “I just...I’m always so dependent on you. Whenever I need help, you’re just magically there to save the day.” Her head hung down, eyes fixed on the floor. “I can’t even repay you for all the times you’ve come to my rescue. And you’re always the one to get hurt. Even when I’m horrible, when I’m stubborn and angry and—”

Childe wrapped his arms around Lumine, pulling her in for a tight embrace. “I’m plenty dependent on you too, Lumi.” His words buzzed against her ear as his chin rested on her shoulder. 

She hesitated a moment. But her arms eventually found their way around him as well. “Just...let me help you. Like how you help me.”

He pulled back, just a bit, his lips ghosting over her forehead as he murmured, “You already are.”

Lumine looked up at him, how impossibly close he was. Her eyes trickled down to his lips.

His eyes followed hers, and she felt his muscles tense against her skin. 

As the heat crept from the pit of her stomach to the apples of her cheeks, Lumine’s eyelids fluttered closed, and she leaned in—

CLICK.

“Alrighty, how are we doing today—?” 

Lumine and Childe froze and turned to the open door. The doctor looked back at them with raised brows. 

“Sorry, should I come back…?” the doctor asked, his voice lined with amusement.

Lumine’s arms snapped back to her own body as she frantically waved in front of her. “N-no, no, no; ah, uhm, sorry, doctor!” She quickly deflated back into the chair, facing the wall away from Childe as the doctor began his examination. 

Her heart was constantly hammering away at her chest the entire time, barely noticing the exam was over until Childe tapped her arm, jolting her back to reality. 

“Ready to go, Lumi?” he asked, a wide grin splitting his face. 

“Already? What did the doctor say?” 

“Oh? Were you a little...distracted?” If possible, his grin stretched wider. 

Lumine stood, leaving the room abruptly. “You can die for all I care,” she muttered sarcastically. 

He jogged to keep up with her. “He said I was okay: just a bad bruise that will go away after a while.” 

The two exited the building, walking into the colorful sorbet glow of sunset. 

“Back to the beach house?” Lumine asked. 

Childe hummed in agreement. There was a brief pause before he leaned down, right into her shoulder, and said, “Unless you want to finish where we left off.” 

Lumine put her palm on his forehead, shoving him away, his laugh breezing her arm. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she answered, walking away. I am going to die from embarrassment. 

God, she had never been so...so vulnerable in front of someone. To think, she was about to kiss—

“You never did answer me, by the way,” Childe said, walking by her side. 

“What?”

“When we were fighting.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “Whether you hate me or not.” 

Lumine bit the side of her cheek. “What about you?” she blurted. “Do you really love me, or is it just another one of your stupid jokes?” 

“Does it bother you?” 

Childe had stopped walking, his expression all tight lines.

“Does it bother you?” Childe repeated. “If I’m in love with you?” 

Was she going to continue running from him? Denying anything and everything about him? In the end, it would just hurt them both, wouldn’t it? 

“No,” Lumine answered quietly. 

A soft smile tugged at Childe’s lips, and he stepped in front of her, putting his hand on top of her head. “And do you hate me, Lumi?” 

“N-no.” 

“Again.”

Her face scrunched. “I...I don’t hate you, Childe.” 

I like you. Why couldn’t she just say it?

“Don’t look so constipated, Pres.” 

Lumine’s jaw dropped as her head snapped up at Childe’s face. “I am not—!”

Childe kissed her forehead, gently, his hand delicately placed on her cheek. 

“Thank you, Lumine,” he said, his breath rustling her golden locks. “For everything today.” 

She clutched his shirt, legs shaking—but she didn’t back away. “I should be the one saying thank you. For saving me.” 

“Always.” 

“I’ll save you too,” Lumine whispered. “I swear.” 

“It’s a promise, then,” Childe whispered back.

* * *

[part 10]

[a-bang-for-your-bucky]

Welcome Home Part 4

Summary: Winter is here. Peyton has her match against Shida, Kenny has his match against Moxley, Brandi shares some information with Peyton.

Pairings: Cody Rhodes x OFC (Sister), Brandi Rhodes x OFC (sister), Kenny Omega x OFC

WARNINGS: 18+, explicit language, allusions to smut, a heated make out sesh, heel turn.

Word: 1,957

A/N: y'all i'm sorry this took so long. I hope this is as good as the other parts. <3

Tonight was the night. “Winter is Coming” had an action packed card. There was a rumor going around that someone was making their AEW debut, but only a certain few knew who. (Here's a hint: IT'S STIIIIIIIIIING).

My match against Shida was after Cody’s tag match with Darby against Team Taz. Brandi and I watched the AEW Dynamite Diamond Ring Battle Royal as I prepped, put my gear on and stretched. I rolled my eyes watching as MJF weaseled his way into a win. “One day, Wardlow is going to kick his ass.” I bet as I turned to Brandi. She nodded in agreement. She had been acting different lately. “You alright, sis? You seem off.” I asked her, genuinely concerned.

Brandi looked around the office space we were in, before getting up to close the door. “You can’t say anything, especially to Cody.” She made me promise before continuing. She was starting to scare me. “I’m pregnant.” She beamed, pulling a scan photo out of her bag.

My jaw dropped, eyes wide open. “I’m gonna be an aunt again?!” I all but squealed, taking the black and white photo from her. “Brandi, that’s so exciting! I know how much you guys have been wanting this.” She enveloped me in a hug.

“I haven’t came up with the best way to tell Cody yet, but it’s gonna be this weekend. So, you won’t have to keep the secret for long.” Brandi was positively glowing. This was the best news to get right before my match.

“Thank you for trusting me. I can’t believe this. It’s gonna bring me good luck, I just know it.” I smiled, hugging her again. A knock on the door pulled us back to the night at hand. “It’s open.” I yelled.

It was Cody. “You’re up, Pey.” He said as he walked in over to Brandi. “Hi, honey.” He whispered sweetly, giving her a kiss. I mock-gagged telling them to get a room before I left. It was time; My time.

A twenty minute long, extremely physical match later and I did it. By the skin of my teeth, I was able to get Shida in a roll up. For good measure, I used the bottom rope to my advantage, leveraging more pressure on the pin. Luckily, Rick Knox didn’t see it.

“Here is your winner, and new AEW Women’s Champion, The Dream Killer, Peyton Rhodes.” Justin bellowed into the microphone. The crowd was split between cheers and boos. Tony had met me at the stage.

“Peyton, any comment on the match?” He asked, obviously hinting at the rope thing. I smiled and shook my head.

“What Tony? You mean the match I just won? The one where I became champion? I think it went great.” I flashed him a toothy grin.

“But the rop-”

I cut him off. “Let me stop you right there, Schiavone. I don’t know what you’re talking about. I won that match, fair and square, with blood, sweat, and tears.” I growled into the mic, “Excuse me, I have a celebration to plan.” I stalked off down the heel tunnel. I only had about fifteen minutes before spot with Jon and Kenny.

Shit, I thought. I almost forgot about the conversation a couple of weeks ago. When Cody said he wanted me to turn on Jon, really solidify my heel turn, I didn’t think he’d want me to help take his title. Tony Khan wanted Kenny and I to play a ‘Power Couple’, basically take over the show.

I quickly changed out of my ring gear, back into my street clothes. The black skinny jeans were distressed and paired well with the grey tank top and tight leather vest I had pulled over it. My feet were clad in black combat boots.

I stood at the Gorilla monitors, watching Kenny’s match. I was still feeling high from winning my match and becoming AEW Women’s champion. I was waiting for my cue from Kenny to rush out. The last few weeks, Kenny had been dropping hints that he was turning heel. Tonight, I was sealing that turn and helping him win the AEW title.

Kenny had climbed to the top rope, looking like he was about to attempt a moonsault, but Jon rushed him. Kenny noticed and jumped to the outside of the ring. I gasped, worried he had landed wrong on his knee. Only relaxing once I saw him jump back up on the apron. Jon hit him with a forearm, knocking him off balance long enough for Jon to slide out of the ring and pull a foot out from under him.

Kenny went face first into the apron. Jon grabbed him, looking like he was going for the paradigm shift, but did a slightly awkward snapdragon into a speaker. Kenny laid there, defenseless. I grabbed my mic, and got ready to run out onto the stage. The ref was trying to keep Jon back, while the ringside medic checked on Kenny.

More referees came out to assess Kenny, and I could tell Jon was getting pissed. He stalked back over and tossed the extras out of the way, trying to get to Kenny. Jon rolled him back into the ring and began pounding on his head. Kenny brought his hands up to protect his head, shooting a signal that only I knew to look out for.

I rushed out the heel tunnel, mic in hand. “Jon, stop. Please, stop.” I begged as I got closer to the ropes. Jon paused, confused as to why I was out there. “He’s down, Mox, stop.”

He moved off of Kenny, walking over to me. “What the hell are you doing?” He asked, throwing his hands up. He turned his back to me, doing Kenny’s signature finger gun gesture. I reached over the top rope, grabbing at his shoulder. He turned angrily, causing me to jump back, strategically dropping the mic into the ring for Kenny. “Get out of here, Peyton!” Jon yelled at me before turning back to Kenny.

I had the referee distracted long enough for Kenny to grab the mic, and smack Jon in the head with it. He had busted Jon wide open, the blood staining his face. Kenny pulled down his knee pad, hitting a V Trigger one, two, three, four times. I was sure Jon was unconscious. Kenny pushed him into a corner, fatigue settling in. He used the turnbuckle as leverage to lift Jon up, preparing for a One Winged Angel. He slammed Jon into the mat with such force, that the entire ring shook. Kenny grabbed one leg, all but laying over Jon, pinning him.

“Here is your winner, and NEW AEW world heavyweight champion, Kenny Omega.” Justin Roberts announced, and the crowd booed. I slid into the ring, taking the title from the ref, giving it to Kenny. I went to raise his hand, instead Kenny pulled me close. One of his hands grabbed the back of my head, pulling me toward him. I froze as his lips met mine. Quickly, after recovering from the shock, I pulled away. Kenny kept me close as he raised the belt. My mind still blank from the kiss, he moved us towards the rope, carefully holding them open for me to step through.

Once we were backstage and out of sight, I turned to face him. “Care to explain what the fuck that was?!” I fumed. Kenny’s face went beet red. He swiped a hand down his face. I knew he was exhausted, but I needed answers.

“Look, I promise I will explain, but Callis has a chopper ready to get me the fuck outta here. Come with me.” He swore, gesturing to the back door. I nodded and let him lead me outside. As we neared the chopper, Alex Marvez stopped Kenny to ask what happened. Callis stepped out of the chopper, telling him that he, along with everyone else, can find out Tuesday on Impact.

They must have anticipated my joining them as I found my duffle, along with my title and phone on the floor of the chopper. The pilot flew us to an undisclosed location, which I soon found out was the landing pad at Kenny's hotel. Callis ran straight to his room, hunkering down from the fall out of tonight's show. Kenny opened the door to his room, gesturing for me to come in. I walked inside, getting comfortable on the couch.

I quickly pulled out my phone, letting Cody know I was with Kenny. He immediately responded stating they were about to send a search party. I huffed out a laugh and Kenny looked over at me.

"I guess I have some explaining to do huh?" He sighed, running his fingers through his blonde curls. I nodded sharply. "I want to apologize first. I shouldn't have kissed you, especially without your permission and I'm truly sorry." He amended, " second, I really wish our first kiss would have been under better circumstances." He smiled sweetly. This man always finding a way to melt my heart.

"I accept your apology, this time Omega." I teased. "What made you do it though?" I asked, unsure if I wanted the answer.

"You know, the adrenaline was coursing through my veins, and there you were looking like a damn angel. And I thought to myself, the only thing that would make this better would be to kiss you. Before I could stop myself, my lips were on yours." Kenny blushed, explaining himself.

The man looked like a damn dream. Still clad in just his wrestling tights, blonde hair a mess of curls, chest red from the hits he took. And to top it all off, his lips looked down right kissable. Only Kenny Omega could look this good after a grueling wrestling match. I thought, smiling to myself. And even though I was upset that our first kiss happened on Live TV with millions watching, I wanted nothing more than for it to happen again.

“Can we get a redo?” The words fell from my lips as a whisper. Kenny’s head snapped up to look at me. He took three big strides to the couch where I was sat, pulling me up to my feet. One of his hands, which I never noticed were so big until they were cupping my face, tilted my mouth up toward his.

Torturously slow, Kenny brought his lips to mine. My eyes fluttered shut as my hands came up to tangle my fingers in his curls. Impossibly, Kenny pulled me closer, causing a small gasp to leave me. He took the opportunity to slide his tongue against my own.

The kiss was sweet, passionate, and full of emotion. When we finally parted to breath, Kenny was the first to speak. “That was,” he stopped, trying to find the right word.

“Breath-taking.” I finished his sentence and he nodded in agreeance. “Ken,” I started. He cut me off by kissing me again. I quickly melted into the kiss. My hands began to roam his body, slipping under the tight T-shirt, feeling the taut muscles of his back.

I pulled away from his intoxicating kiss and pushed him back toward the couch. Once back in a seated position, I straddled him. “Fuck, Pey.” Kenny moaned as my lips attacked his neck. He pulled my face back so that our eyes met. His blue eyes were almost black with desire . “Can’t have you leaving any marks there, princess.” Kenny growled. I cocked a brow and ground my center down on him. Kenny immediately flipped us, so that he was hovering over me. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Princess.” Kenny had started to unzip my vest when we were interrupted by banging on the door.

Tags: @rach-supreme93

[lesdemonium]

romtober day 7: misunderstandings

Rating: M Ship: Geraskier Word Count: 4319 Summary: Cirilla's new nanny, Mister Julian, is her favorite person in the whole world. Geralt's new boyfriend, Jaskier, is pretty high up there as well. No one realizes they might be the same person.

AKA: the nanny/parent au written by a nanny

a MASSIVE thank you for betaing to @boppinrobin. y’all have them to thank for how romantic this wound up being.

read on ao3

“Mister Julian says that the things we learn in school are very important but it’s also important to learn things outside of school. Like about rainbows. Did you know that any time light… ref… refracts it can make a rainbow? Like through windows or… or… Daddy, do you know what refracts means?”

Geralt hummed a little as he and Ciri walked. He thought that answer was enough, until his five year old pulled impatiently at his hand and Geralt looked down to see her frowning at him.

“I do,” he said, nodding a little. “Do you know? Do you want to tell me?”

“I do!” Ciri insisted proudly. She let go of Geralt’s hand now that they were inside their building and she ran to the elevator to make sure she could press the button first. When the button lit up, she gave Geralt a devilish smile and he pretended to be disappointed that he couldn’t hit the button first, much to her delight. “It’s okay, Daddy. Maybe next time. I’m just too fast.”

“You are,” Geralt agreed. He nudged her into the now-open elevator. “Didn’t you want to tell me what refract means?”

“Yes! Mister Julian told me all about it! It’s when something makes light change directions! Like… like water! Or windows!” Ciri was literally bouncing in her excitement to share her knowledge and Geralt found himself grinning down at her, just before leading them both to the door to their condo.

“It sounds like you’re learning a lot of really cool things from Mister Julian,” Geralt said. He unlocked the door and ushered her inside.

“Mister Julian is the best. He’s the smartest guy in the whole wide world!”

Ciri attempted to drop her things--backpack, coat, art project and all--onto the floor, only to be stopped by a chiding look from Geralt. She huffed dramatically and picked it all back up and put her belongings back where they went. Geralt offered a quick “Thank you, Ciri,” but she had already moved on to go play in her room until dinner.

Dinner, of course, was filled with chatter about nothing but Mister Julian, but Geralt couldn’t bring himself to be bothered. It was nice that she enjoyed her new nanny at Yennefer’s. By the end of the meal, Geralt was pretty sure he wanted to meet Mister Julian.

--

Geralt thought it had to be a new level of pathetic to be stood up by your own brother, and yet here he was. He wouldn’t have necessarily chosen this bar for himself, but now that he was here, he figured he might as well order a drink, even if Lambert was a dick who didn’t bother to show up. Only a quick “something came up” text and some shitty joke about maybe Geralt could find someone to pull the stick out of his ass for him. Prick.

Geralt was halfway into his drink when someone sat beside him. He didn't bother to look--he was pretty sure the stranger was just trying to order a drink--until he felt the other’s shoulder knock against his.

“I’d love to give you a pickup line, but I get the feeling that wouldn’t go very far with you,” blue eyes said.

Turned out, the rest of him was just as beautiful as his eyes. Given the line the man had already paid him, Geralt felt no shame in letting his gaze drag over his company’s body, and Geralt had to admit he liked what he saw. The curve of his lips screamed mischief, and the cut of his shirt betrayed a deceptively muscular chest. Maybe tonight wouldn’t be a total bust.

“Perceptive,” Geralt answered, taking a long drink of his beer. His eyebrow raised as he met Jaskier’s eye again, and Jaskier straightened up as he settled into the stool beside Geralt.

“I’m Jaskier,” the man said, and motioned at the bartender. He ordered quickly, then turned his attention wholly back to Geralt. “So, does this statuesque masculinity come with a name, or do you prefer to brood your way to recognition?”

“Geralt,” he answered with a smirk. Geralt was pretty sure he had never been made fun of so quickly into what he was almost certain would become a hookup. He quite liked it.

“Geralt, the man of few words,” Jaskier grinned. He received his drink, and held it up, looking pointedly at Geralt’s beer until Geralt clinked the glass together in a wordless cheers. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

The pleasure, it turned out, was all Geralt’s. If Jaskier was bothered by carrying the conversation, he certainly didn’t show it. He seemed to even have a knack for pulling information out of Geralt efficiently, between stories. Geralt didn’t learn too much about Jaskier’s personal life--he didn’t think he would--but it only took a few minutes into their conversation for him to realize that he might like to.

From the moment he laid hands on Jaskier--in the privacy of Geralt’s own condo, as neither one of them was particularly keen on giving any unassuming strangers even a tame show--he felt indisputable chemistry. They didn’t have to discuss much to understand that they were on the same page about, well, everything. Even how they both liked to kiss, or the way they liked to be touched. It wasn’t magic, it wasn’t perfect, and Geralt definitely had his hands shoved away from somewhere Jaskier apparently did not enjoy being touched, but it was about as close to electrifying as Geralt had ever gotten with a new partner.

“Jesus,” Jaskier panted as his head hit the pillow.

Geralt snorted into Jaskier’s sweat-sheened shoulder, but he had to agree.

When Geralt woke to find Jaskier still in his bed, starfishing and completely unbothered by another body, Geralt was surprised. Pleasantly surprised, but still surprised. He sat up slowly and made his way to the bathroom, and by the time he came back, Jaskier was sitting up and rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“I swear I normally don't do sleepovers without at least discussing it first,” Jaskier said, smiling sheepishly at Geralt. “Apparently you wore me out.”

“Apparently I did,” Geralt answered, shrugging. “It’s fine. Do you want breakfast? I can make eggs.”

Jaskier watched him for a moment, with a cautious smile, then nodded. “Breakfast sounds incredible.”

Nearly an hour later, they both were fed, dressed (though Jaskier scrunched up his nose at rewearing last night’s wrinkled outfit), and Jaskier leaned forward into the kitchen table, staring at Geralt.

“Would it be bold of me to request a repeat performance?” Jaskier asked. “Maybe even a meal that isn’t immediately following an accidental sleepover?”

Geralt hesitated a moment. He wanted to, more than anything, but.

“I have to let you know,” Geralt started, “so you can make a fully informed decision. I have a daughter. A five-year-old.”

Jaskier grinned, then bent down, disappearing beneath the table. Geralt watched, his head tilting as he puzzled out this bizarre reaction, and then Jaskier sat back up, a pink stuffed bunny in his hand.

“You mean to tell me this isn’t yours?” Jaskier asked, his voice affronted, though he was still grinning and even managed to wink at Geralt.

“His name is Mr. Bun and he’s part of the family,” Geralt said, with a smile in return.

Jaskier left that morning with the clothes he had worn the night previously, a full belly, and Geralt’s number entered into his phone and a promise that, yes, they could try for dinner next time. Geralt found himself feeling almost as if he needed to thank Lambert for being a prick. He wouldn’t, though.

--

“You’re looking cheerier than usual,” Yennefer said as Geralt stepped back to let her inside.

“Ciri, your mom’s here!” Geralt called. “Do you have your bag ready?”

There was a bang from behind Ciri’s door, one that Geralt absolutely did not want to ask about, before she called back, “Yes! I just forgot something!” Geralt was pretty sure she was lying and that he should say something about that, but it didn’t seem like a battle worth waging when packing her bag was already going to take her time.

“Going to explain, or should I start guessing?” Yennefer asked, smirking at him. “Hm… there was a sale on ugly combat boots and you picked up a few dozen more?” 

Geralt rolled his eyes. “Surely you could do better than that. Don’t tell me you’ve lost your touch,” he teased. 

“Haven’t lost my touch, simply want you to get to the point. What has you looking so pleased?” She crossed her arms and raised her eyebrow, and even if Geralt wanted to deflect, he knew from the set of her shoulders Yennefer wasn’t going to just let it go. There was no need for him to, though.

“I have a date tonight.” 

“You do? Well, tell me about them? What’s so great about this date that made you pawn off your daughter a night early?”

“You asked to have Ciri early. She’ll think you’re serious if she overhears you,” Geralt frowned. Yennefer waved an insistent hand back. “His name is Jaskier.”

“Mommy!” Ciri called, bounding out of her room and running straight into Yennefer’s arms. Yennefer spun her around once before setting her feet back on the ground, and Ciri grinned up at her. “Is Mister Julian coming to see me this week?”

“Of course he is,” Yennefer answered, nodding at her. “He’ll pick you up from school on Monday.”

“Good.” Ciri’s voice contained every ounce of seriousness in the world, and Geralt had to bite back his laugh. Ciri did not like thinking that Geralt was laughing at her. Not that he blamed her. “I have something very important to tell him.”

“And what’s that?”

“Hippos make pink slime instead of using sunscreen!”

Yennefer’s nose scrunched up and she glanced at Geralt, who shrugged.

“We spent this weekend looking up facts to tell Mister Julian. She picked that one,” Geralt answered.

“That is fascinating and adequately disgusting. I’m sure he’ll be thrilled.” Yennefer took Ciri’s hand and her bag, which she slung over her shoulder. “Say bye to your dad, Ciri. We need to run.” She pointed a finger on her free hand at Geralt. “I expect to hear all about your weekend when you come pick her up.”

--

It wasn’t until their fifth date that Geralt took Jaskier home again.

Coming back for a hookup was one thing; usually people Geralt brought home left as soon as they caught their breath and never came back. Going on an actual date with someone, though, was different. Bringing someone he was actively dating into the home Geralt shared with his daughter was a whole other level that had to be handled extremely carefully. And slowly.

Luckily, Jaskier understood.

“It’s been so long, I almost forgot where you lived,” Jaskier said, grinning as Geralt opened the door for him. “I’m flattered I’m being invited back. I must be doing something right.”

Geralt snorted, then backed up to let Jaskier back into the condo. Jaskier followed after him, only to crowd Geralt against the door and bring him in for a kiss. Geralt’s arms wound around Jaskier’s middle, turning them both so he could close the door behind them, lest they give Geralt’s neighbors an unintended show. 

“A lot of things right,” Geralt answered once they pulled away, and he lived for the way Jaskier beamed at him.

“Did you know,” Jaskier said conversationally, over the dinner Geralt had cooked for them, “that your daughter and my charge are the same age?”

Geralt raised an eyebrow at Jaskier and finished his bite. Jaskier didn’t often volunteer information about his charge. Geralt hadn’t pressed, of course, after Jaskier mentioned his job as a nanny on their first official date, and then followed up with “For confidentiality reasons, I can’t tell you much about her, but she is just the best.”

“I thought you didn’t talk about your charge with people you were dating,” Geralt answered. He put down his fork, as he was finished with his meal, and rested his hand on Jaskier’s leg.

“I don’t, but I would consider it, a bit, with a boyfriend,” Jaskier answered, and his hand hovered above Geralt’s, just barely avoiding contact. Though his tone was as even and nonchalant as possible, and he shrugged his shoulders, Jaskier wouldn’t look at Geralt; he was nervous. “And, well. I figured it might give you permission to talk about your daughter. And know that you’re not going to scare me off if you do.”

“Hmm,” Geralt said. He captured Jaskier’s still-hovering hand and entwined their fingers. Geralt waited until Jaskier met his eye again, then smiled. “I suppose telling my boyfriend about my daughter makes sense.”

--

“I’m just wondering what sort of name Jaskier is, anyway,” Yennefer said.

Geralt rolled his eyes and gave her an exasperated look, but Yen only grinned wickedly back. 

“It’s a stage name, and a nickname,” Geralt answered, shrugging.

“A nickname for what?”

“I don’t know. He hasn’t told me and I haven’t asked.”

“You’ve been dating this guy for, what, three months now, and you don’t even know his name?” Yennefer sounded incredulous.

“I know his name. It’s Jaskier. “ Geralt smirked, and Yennefer looked likely to hit him.

She hadn’t given Geralt even the tiniest bit of rest about it all since Geralt had admitted that he and Jaskier were serious over a month ago, but Geralt found himself less and less bothered by it. She had made it clear that she simply wanted to meet him, and that was her goal with all this teasing, but Geralt wasn’t ready. Yennefer meeting Jaskier likely meant Ciri meeting Jaskier, and though he knew he was serious, he felt they needed quite a bit more stability before his five-year-old was brought into the picture. Jaskier seemed to agree, if his lack of pressing about it was anything to go off of.

“Do you even know his last name?” Yennefer asked.

“I do. But I’m not telling you. You don’t need to internet stalk him.”

“Oh, but I so love being nosey.”

Geralt snorted, then turned to the bright patter of Ciri’s feet running to him and jumping in his arms. He caught her, and lifted her up in a bear hug. “Ready to go?” he asked. Ciri nodded enthusiastically.

“Did you ask Mister Julian if he’s free Friday?” Geralt asked, turning back to Yen and holding out his hand for Ciri’s bag, which Yennefer passed to him.

“Sorry, he said he was busy,” Yennefer answered with a sympathetic grimace.

“Someday I’ll meet Ciri’s favorite person in the whole world,” Geralt said. He slung the bag over his arm and put Ciri down, instead taking her hand. “That’s fine. How’s a night at Grandpa’s then?”

Ciri’s eyes grew comically large. “Yes! Last time we had unicorn pancakes! For dinner!” she said.

Geralt very much did not want to know what unicorn pancakes were, or just how much of a sugarbomb they contained. Instead of asking, he waved at Yen and took Ciri back home.

--

Geralt could feel himself drifting. He shouldn’t let himself, he knew, but it was hard not to when he was wrapped up in his warm bed, still shaking off sleep, and Jaskier was lightly tracing patterns on Geralt’s bare chest. There were things he had to do, like clean up after their date night, and go pick Ciri up from Vesemir’s, but Geralt figured there wasn’t much harm in letting himself have this moment. He hummed, to let Jaskier know he was awake. Hopefully he’d not let Geralt drift off again.

“Morning,” Jaskier said. His voice wasn’t a whisper, but it was a near thing.

“Since when do you wake up before me?” Geralt asked. With great effort, he opened an eye to look at Jaskier, who was smiling down at Geralt, his head propped up with his elbow.

“I wouldn’t get used to it,” Jaskier answered. He continued trailing his fingers along Geralt’s chest. “I’m sure next time you’ll have to chase me out when I inevitably oversleep and your daughter’s on her way home.”

Geralt hummed and caught Jaskier’s hand, then pressed his lips to Jaskier’s fingers. Though the light streaming in from the window was entirely too bright, Geralt found he didn’t mind. Jaskier was haloed in the soft light.

“Maybe sometime you can meet her,” Geralt said.

Jaskier grinned and leaned in to press a kiss to Geralt’s collarbone. “I’d love to. When you’re both ready,” he said. He lifted his head again, then paused, before pressing a slow, sweet kiss to Geralt’s lips.

“Hmm, yeah, it’s official,” Jaskier said as he pulled back.

Geralt furrowed his eyebrows as he reached out to card his fingers through Jaskier’s hair. “What’s official?”

“That I love you,” Jaskier said.

He said it like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like he hadn’t just thrown Geralt completely for a loop and left him boneless. Jaskier sounded so sure, so honest, and he was beaming down at Geralt.

“Is that so?” Geralt finally answered, his mouth dry.

Jaskier’s face did not dampen, not even a little, as he nodded. “It is. I know because I still felt that way when I kissed you, morning breath and all.”

Geralt snorted and pushed himself up to sit. He still held Jaskier’s hand, and he pressed a kiss to his palm--to spare him from any further morning breath--then let go and stood up. Jaskier sat up, too, and was looking at Geralt with such a look of adoration, that Geralt felt himself flushing under the attention as he made his way to the bathroom to brush his teeth.

The escape helped clear his head. After his teeth were brushed, he left the bathroom to find Jaskier getting dressed, pulling a new outfit from the drawer Geralt had cleared out for him. They smiled at each other, then switched, Jaskier brushing his teeth and Geralt getting dressed. 

It was so easy, that Geralt found himself a bit floored. It had been slow, and Geralt hadn’t truly noticed, but in the warm shock of Jaskier’s confession, he noticed there were little reminders of Jaskier everywhere: the clothes in the drawer, Jaskier’s toothbrush in Geralt’s bathroom. The pictures from the photobooth of the two of them sitting on Geralt’s nightstand. 

Geralt returned to the bathroom and leaned against the doorway. Geralt watched, silently, as Jaskier finished brushing his teeth, then grinned at Geralt.

“Don’t tell me you’re kicking me out already. I woke up early for you! I thought we could go to brunch. Maybe do an early six-month anniversary thing, since I’m working on our actual anniversary.” Jaskier paused to let out a nervous laugh and card his fingers through his hair. “Monthiversary? Whatever. Six months is a big deal, okay, I promise I’ll let you off the hook for other month markers, but six months is a big deal.”

“I love you, too,” Geralt said. He reached out a hand and Jaskier allowed himself to be pulled into a hug. Jaskier’s body sagged in relief against Geralt and Geralt held him all the tighter for it. This was right. Geralt hadn’t felt this sure about anything in a long time.

--

“How would you feel about Jaskier meeting Ciri?” Geralt asked as soon as Yennefer opened the door.

Yennefer paused for a moment, blinking.

“I hate when you do that. Next time can you greet me before bombarding me with big questions?” Yennefer asked, frowning at him.

“Hi Yen,” Geralt answered, nodding a little. He supposed that was fair. “How has your week been? I wanted to chat about this before Ciri comes down. So she doesn’t get excited or think it’s happening if you say no.”

“Well, I appreciate that.” Yennefer let out an audible breath, then gestured for Geralt to come inside. “So, things are pretty serious with him, then?”

“Yes. We’ve been together nine months.”

Yennefer put her hands on her hips and regarded Geralt for a moment. “You’ve been seeing this guy almost a year, and you’re just now considering having him meet Ciri? Jesus, Geralt. I guess we’re all lucky you didn’t wait until a marriage proposal before any of us got to know him.”

“I can’t consider marrying anyone that Ciri hasn’t signed off on,” Geralt answered, shrugging.

“You are the most ridiculous man I’ve ever met. Yes, absolutely, have this guy that’s been in your life for almost an entire year meet Ciri, I give you permission.” Yen’s eyes rolled as she crossed her arms. “I get to meet him after. Before Lambert and Eskel.”

“Agreed,” Geralt said. He thought about sticking out his hand to shake Yennefer’s and seal the deal, but he figured now wasn’t the time to incur Yennefer’s wrath.

--

Geralt was nervous. In fact, nervous didn’t even begin to describe Geralt at this precise moment. Geralt had a feeling Jaskier was probably just as nervous, if not moreso, judging by how quiet he had been all day on the phone. No social media posts, only a couple clarifying questions about the plan for tonight to Geralt, and otherwise completely silent. It helped, if Geralt was being honest. That meant Jaskier knew how big of a deal this was, just as much as Geralt did. If Ciri didn’t like Jaskier--well. Geralt just had to trust that was impossible.

When he heard the knock, Geralt startled. He opened the door to find Jaskier standing there, looking sheepish and gorgeous.

“Ciri? Jaskier’s here,” Geralt said. He reached out a hand for Jaskier, who gladly took it and stepped inside.

Geralt was still turned toward the door, closing it, as Ciri’s steps turned from walking to an all out sprint toward them.

“Mister Julian!” she yelled as she jumped into his--thankfully, just barely ready--arms. Jaskier looked bewildered, and like he was still processing the girl now in his arms. Ciri pulled back and pressed her palms to Jaskier’s cheeks. “I didn’t know you were coming to my dad’s! You didn’t say you were coming over!”

“I...I didn’t know,” Jaskier answered. He bent to put her back on the ground, just a bit too fast to be intentional, but Ciri was delighted by the move. Jaskier then wrung his hands together, but Geralt could still see that they were shaking.

“Julian? You’re Mister Julian?” Geralt asked. He couldn’t process this. He felt dizzy and thrown and suddenly very uncertain of what he should do with his hands.

“Julian’s my first name,” Jaskier answered. Geralt could see the blush creeping along Jaskier’s face. “Since it’s on my driver’s license and easier to say, that’s the name I use. You’re Cirilla’s dad?”

“Dad,” Ciri whined, and when Geralt looked to her she had the most disapproving frown Geralt had ever seen on her face. “Why didn’t you tell me you’re friends with Mister Julian? You said we don’t keep secrets!”

“You’re right,” Geralt agreed. He hesitated a moment, then ran his fingers through her hair. “I didn’t know I was keeping a secret, it was an accident. I call Mister Julian ‘Jaskier.’”

Ciri turned her now very suspicious frown on Jaskier. “Were you keeping a secret? You didn’t tell me you’re my dad’s boyfriend.”

Jaskier laughed and shook his head helplessly. “Trust me, sweetheart. I had no idea. Apparently your dad and I are too good at keeping you safe.”

Ciri seemed to accept that answer, because she shrugged, then ran off to the kitchen as if nothing had happened. Jaskier, however, wheeled on Geralt the moment she turned her back.

“You were married to Yennefer?” Jaskier asked.

“Yes,” Geralt answered. Jaskier let out an incredulous bark of laughter and Geralt placed a hand on the small of his back--trying to steady them both. “We divorced just after we adopted Ciri. How did you not connect her name?”

“I thought maybe you were both inspired by Apple products! Who was I to judge?” Jaskier threw his hands up. A moment later, one landed heavily on Geralt’s shoulder. Geralt could still just barely feel that hand tremble.  “And I don’t call her Ciri! She wanted me to call her Cirilla. I never connected--” He laughed again, shaky and disbelieving. “Oh my god, this does not help nanny stereotypes.”

“At least we know she already likes you?” Geralt offered.

Jaskier gasped, his free hand covering his mouth. He glanced at the kitchen, and by the time he looked back at Geralt, his entire face had crinkled into a broad smile. Jaskier took Geralt’s hand between both of his own and pressed Geralt’s knuckles to his lips, and now Geralt could feel Jaskier’s grin.

“She does,” Jaskier said, sounding as wet as his eyes were. “She does like me!”

Relief washed over Geralt as he really considered what this meant. The hardest part and biggest potential barrier to the future of their relationship had already been crossed before it was even a question. Geralt was not looking forward to how much Yen was going to laugh at him, but he wasn’t worried about their future anymore. Ciri loved Jaskier as much as Geralt did. Everything would be okay.

Geralt pulled his hand from Jaskier’s hold to cup Jaskier’s face and bring him in for a kiss. Somehow, they had managed to do this right. Somehow, they were being rewarded.

“Are we having dinner, or what, lazy boneses?” Ciri called from the kitchen.

Jaskier pulled away to laugh, and Geralt had to capture the mischievous smile Jaskier gave him in another kiss. This time, when Jaskier pulled away, his eyes were soft and his hand was warm as he pulled Geralt to the kitchen.

“Coming, lazy bones?” Jaskier asked, as if Geralt wouldn’t follow him anywhere.

[bangtann-bangdamn]

Summary: Handball is one of the least violent games in sports history. So how did such an innocent sport get so heated?

Pairing: Jungkook x gender-neutral reader

Genre: Sports AU, College AU

Prompt: Sports au

Word count: 1.2k

AN: I'm not an expert on handball. The last time I played handball was over ten years ago. I am aware that the ball in the banner is a football, but you try finding a good handball photo (trust me, there isn't one. I spent nearly an hour scouring the internet for one lol).

This is for the @btsghostiewritersnet drabble marathon.

It was supposed to be a friendly game of handball, but somewhere down the line, all pretences of friendly went out the window.

“Oh god, someone is going to die.” You groaned into your hands after Jungkook took a particularly hard tackle to the floor. Which, you know, was illegal.

“Ref come on!” Namjoon called, hands spread out wide as his cheeks started to flame with anger.

Thankfully, Soobin, the first-year student who had been roped in to be referee, blew his whistle at the same time as he held up a yellow card to BamBam.

BamBam kicked at the ground as he stormed away from Jungkook, low grumbles barely heard over Jackson yelling at Soobin that no foul was made.

Jungkook picked himself up off the floor, inspecting his scraped knees before shooting a glare at BamBam.

“I thought this was friendly?” Yong-sun asked as she sat down beside you, watching the chaos on the field as BamBam approached Jungkook, clearly looking for a tussle.

“Friendly was never an option with these idiots.” You indicated to where Jungkook and BamBam had started a heated game of rock paper scissors to decide who was in the wrong. Taehyung crouched beside them, watching as their fists hit the palm of their hands three times before releasing their moves. He nodded sagely, standing to his full height as he awarded the point to Jungkook. BamBam moaned, his head hung low, as Jimin lifted Jungkook in celebration. Jay B patted BamBam on the back, leading him back to their side of the court as the game reset.

“Who’s winning?” Yong-sun queried, a small pout on her face as she failed to capture the attention of Jin, who was trying (and failing) to engage Yoongi in conversation. Yoongi leant against the goal with his mouth slightly gaped and a vacant expression on his face, completely oblivious to whatever drivel Yong-sun’s boyfriend was sprouting.

The other team’s goalie, Mark, mirrored Yoongi’s position on the opposite side of the court and you really couldn’t blame either of them for tuning out the game.

“Neither side. They haven’t made it out of the middle yet.”

“Seriously?” Yong-sun’s voice grew in pitch as she faced you with wide eyes.

“Yes. That tackle was the closest they got to moving away from the centre. It’s going to be a long game.”

With everyone back in their positions, Soobin blew his whistle. Jungkook was tossed the ball to begin play. Jungkook quickly passed the ball to Jimin who took his three steps past Jinyoung and tossed it to Taehyung.

Who was so intent on pulling faces at Yugyeom, that he failed to see the ball sailing straight towards him until Jimin called his name. But he was too slow. He turned his face only to be greeted by the ball. His head cracked back as he began his descent to the ground, the ball harmlessly rebounding away. Yugyeom gaped wordlessly as he watched Taehyung crash to the ground.

“Yugyeom, the ball!” Jackson screamed from the other end of the court, prompting Yugyeom to pick up the ball and toss it to the waiting Youngjae. Youngjae took his three steps and threw the ball to Jackson, who was in prime position to score. His arm launched back, preparing for an attack.

“Yoongi!” Hoseok comically jumped in the air in an attempt to gain the blond’s attention, but Yoongi appeared too lost in his own world.

Jackson launched the ball at impossible speeds, making its way towards the open net.

The world slowed down. Hoseok’s hand slapped his cheeks as he screamed in defeat, Taehyung rose from the ground slowly, eyes wide as he tracked the ball’s movement. BamBam had managed to wrangle Jungkook into a headlock and it was from there they stopped fighting to watch the ball.

Yoongi’s head snapped towards the ball as it approached, effortless moving his body to capture it.

The pitch grew silent for a second as the players processed the demonic speeds Yoongi possessed to capture the ball, barely processing that he was already moving to toss the ball towards Namjoon.

Namjoon recovered quickly and soon he was pivoting on his heel to pass to Jin, who quickly moved the ball to Hoseok.

Hoseok, however, was not so quick to respond. His hands caught the ball by reflex but stood wide-eyed as his mind caught up with the game. Jay B’s eyes gleamed mischievously as he charged, making a move to swipe the ball from Hoseok’s hand. Hoseok regained his sense and passed the ball back to Jin.

“Not to me!” Jin cried as he passed the ball back to Hoseok, except Jay B hadn’t altered his course and was in direct line to the ball’s path. It hit the back of his head, bouncing into the air.

“I got it!” Taehyung called as he sprinted towards the ball, jumping in the air to catch it. Yugyeom tried to follow him but he couldn’t keep up with Taehyung’s sudden burst of speed.

Taehyung tossed the ball over Hoseok’s head as he screamed, “Jungkook!”

Jungkook moved like the speed of light. One moment in BamBam’s grasp, the next twirling away and moving towards the ball. He jumped and grabbed the ball, twisting in the air and launching it towards the goal in one seamless movement. He landed on one knee on the ground as the ball hit the back of the net, Mark barely moving away from the post as he processed what just happened.

You and Yong-sun jumped into the air, screaming at the miraculous throw Jungkook performed. Jungkook turned sheepishly towards you, scratching the back of his neck.

Soobin blew his whistle, calling the end of the game. He held up his flag towards Jungkook’s team and the other side groaned. Namjoon approached the centre to shake hands with Jay B as Jungkook made his way over to where you and Yong-sun stood.

“Here comes trouble,” she muttered to you as she shot you look before moving to greet Jin.

“I won the game!” Jungkook gleefully announced as he stopped before you. “Which means I get to ask you out to dinner.”

You frowned at him, turning slightly as you heard BamBam’s knees hit the ground as he wailed into the air. Then your mind caught up to what Jungkook had said and their weird behaviour the entire game.

You slapped his arm. “Are you kidding me? You made a bet with BamBam to ask me out?” You slapped his arm again for emphasis.

Jungkook winced, holding his arm as he sheepishly replied, “Maybe?”

You shook your head as you groaned, “You’re both idiots.” You turned on your heel and walked away without looking back.

“But - the jump shot!” Jungkook called after you, moving to grab his bag before he followed you. “I made that shot for you.”

“Ah, young love,” Jin commented as he wrapped his arm around Yong-sun.

“Does he really not see the issue with what he said?” Yong-sun looked up at her boyfriend, her amusement barely concealed.

“Yeah, for someone quick on his feet, he’s not the most observant. I’ll teach him.” Jin nodded sagely as they, too, moved away from the pitch.

“Please don’t. It took you three years to ask me out.” Yong-sun giggled.

“But I got the girl in the end, did I not?” Jin pouted

“You sure did, honey.” Yong-sun sympathetically patted Jin’s chest. “But let’s let the kids figure this one out for themselves.”

BGW Drabble Master List

Master List

[dripkingpetey]

give me a chance-j.virtanen

a/n:this took me way longer than it should’ve but I've just had no motivation for writing lol (watch me not post another fic for the longest time-)

1910 words

“Y/n, I bet you’re the only girl that’s ever turned Jake down.” Brock said to you over the loud sounds of people talking in the background of the bar and he wasn’t wrong, any girl who Jake has every approached or even talked to would be falling in love with him right away but not you. You always used the excuses like “I’ve known him for too long, it would be weird.” Or “I just don’t want anything with anyone right now,” But all of that just made Jake want you more.

“He’s not wrong.” The young swede sitting to the left of you chimed in. “I’ve never seen anyone turn Jake down, you must have some anti Jake gene in you or something.” The three of you bursted laughing at Elias’ words before you took a sip of your drink. “I don’t know, I want something serious and I know Jake can’t give me that.” You said quietly but Brock and Elias definitely heard you as they exchanged a look to each other.

Jake came back to the area that all of you were seated and nuzzled his face into your shoulder, clearly very drunk. “Hey,” He grinned while slowly closing his eyes as he couldn’t help but drift off to sleep.

“Are you sure you guys don’t have something going on? Secretly fucking or friends with benefits?” Brock joked quietly, looking at you rubbing Jakes back and comforting him. “Seems like you and petey are the ones that are secretly fucking.” You commented at Brocks words and his face immediately turned red. 

By the next morning you had completely forgotten what you had said last night, the only thing occupying your head was the pounding headache from your hangover. “Hey,” Jake grinned while taking a sip of water in his kitchen and that was when you realized you had fallen asleep on his couch last night. “You’re creepy, were you watching me sleep?” You joked and threw a pillow at him. “For your information, I was not. I actually need to get ready for practice.”

“Do you mind taking care of Bruce and Donny today? I forgot they had to go to the groomers.” Jake asked nicely knowing you would say yes. “Yes, but only if you hangout with me tonight.” You smiled at him as he nodded. “Count me in, okay I really gotta go get ready.” Jake pulled you in for a hug and a light kiss on the head before he rushed to get ready, you waited till Jake left to get ready for the day. You had clothes there from spending time over there so much so you grabbed a pair of leggings and your favourite hoodie of Jakes before you hopped in the shower.

You ran some errands before you had to pick the dogs up from the groomer, you sat them in the backseat before taking a photo of you and the dogs to show Jake you had picked them up.

i got the boys :) 

*image attachment*

Is that my sweater?

maybeee

I’ll be home soon, should I pick up dinner?

nope, i already planned what we’re doing for dinner

You started putting away the groceries and grabbed the ingredients you needed for dinner, you decided to make burgers and salad for dinner since you knew it was Jakes favourite meal and he was dying to try out the new grill he purchased the other day. 

“Hey.” Jake whispered right by your ear which made you jump while preparing the salad. “I already knew you were here,” “Yeah but you still got scared.” Jake chuckled at you and sat on the stool for the kitchen island. “What’s for dinner?” Jake raised an eyebrow at you before you pulled out the hamburger patties. “Burgers, you get to use the grill that you’ve been dying to use.” You smiled as Jakes eyes immediately lit up. “Oh god, you are a literal man-child.” You sighed with a chuckle.

-

Since Jake was gone on a road trip, you went over to his house to take care of his dogs and the house, it was the second game of their road trip when Jake got his injury.

You couldn’t help but sigh as you saw Jake get hit, he was against Dallas when Jamie Oleksiak collided with Jake. But the sigh quickly turned into fear when Jake was struggling to get up. “Oh shit.” You mumbled to yourself as the refs whistled and the trainer went on to help him. Jake slipped a little but got off the ice quickly with the help of Bo and Brock.

You watched the replays of the hit that they were showing on tv before you texted Jake.

i watched the game, call me when you can please.

You were half asleep when Jake called you, you quickly woke up from the call and answered.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” Your voice was sleepy and Jake could tell. “Hey, I’m okay. Sorry did I wake you up?” Hearing Jakes voice made you calm down. “No, no its okay.” You mumbled, half asleep which made Jake chuckle. “I’ll be home tomorrow.” Jake quickly realized you weren’t listening when he heard your light little snores. “I love you” He whispered before hanging up to fall asleep as well.

You woke up early next morning and cleaned up around the house and  waited for him to come home. “Oh god I look like a mess.” You mumbled as you saw a glimpse of yourself in the window.  You quickly tried to fix your hair and outfit but quickly gave up and changed into a set of Jakes clothes along with a messy bun.

“Hey.” Jake said cheekily as he flopped himself on top on you, wincing a little from his injury. “Hey,” You mumbled quietly, now realizing you were asleep. “You’re home.” You grinned. “Would be better if it was our home though,” Jake winked as he whispered into your ear. “Jake,” You sighed as he kissed your cheek. “Y/n, just kiddinggg.” Jake said as he dragged on the ‘g’ and sat up on the couch.

“How was your trip? Well other than the injury.” You asked but quickly realized it wasn’t a good question to ask him. “The trip was pretty fun, but did you know the doctor actually said that cuddling will help out my concussion and my injuries?” Jake smirked as you looked up at him. “Oh really?” You teased, moving your body onto Jakes and burying your face in his chest while you traced the tattoos on his arm with your fingers. “Yeah, just like that.” Jake chuckled and rested his face into the top of your head.

-

Jake didn’t want anything super special for his birthday this year, just a little party at his place with close friends, which was surprising since Jake was a party guy.

“Morning, birthday boy.” You grinned over FaceTime to a half asleep Jake. “Hey.” Jake mumbled, pulling his blanket up to his head. “What do you want?”

“Woah, woah. I’m just trying to be nice and wish you a happy birthday,” You defended yourself as Jake laughed. “I’m just kidding, thank you y/n.”

You ended the call shortly after to go get ready for the day since Jake kept on whining about wanting to go back to sleep. 

You snuck into Jakes house with your spare key, setting down the breakfast you had picked up from his favourite cafe. You tippy toed quietly up the stairs to Jakes room, trying not to wake him up yet. Sneaking into Jakes bed and cuddling up behind him. “Hey.” You mumbled against Jakes neck before giving him a kiss there. “Y/n?” Jake mumbled, chuckling a little. “How did you get in?” 

“I have your key dummy.” You laughed, starting to play with Jakes hair and you knew he loved it. “I brought you your favourite breakfast.” You smiled as you saw the smile grow on Jakes face as well. “You did?” “Yep its in the kitchen,” Jake jumped up out go bed and headed downstairs as you sighed and laid in his bed for awhile.

Before you knew it, you had dozed off to sleep. Groaning as you woke up to the loud music playing downstairs combined with the sound of people talking. Making sure you looked presentable and awake before going downstairs.

“Hey, you’re up!” Jake exclaimed as you walked downstairs and greeted everyone, realizing that Jake was already very drunk. “The drinks are in the kitchen if you want one.” Jake grinned with his visible rosy cheeks. “Thank you.” You smiled at Jake and made your way to the kitchen, grabbing a red bull and taking a big sip so you can pour way too much vodka in the can than needed. 

Completely tipsy and almost drunk, you found yourself sitting on top of Jakes lap with your face inches away from his. Jake softly but his hand on your cheek and you leaned in as well, realizing what you were doing and pulled away.

“Why won’t you give me a chance?” Jake whined at you pulling your face away from his. “Jake.” You mumbled quietly. “No, don’t give me that ‘Jake’ bullshit. Give me a reason.” “Its not that I don’t feel the same way about you, I do, but I don’t know what you want out of this and I want something serious, not one of your casual Friday night hookups, I want an actual relationship but I don’t think you want that.” You finally let it all out, the things you’ve been whining about to Brock and Elias, he finally knew. 

It took Jake a moment to process what you said especially under the influence, but he tried to sober up before he could say anything else. “Just give me a chance y/n, I promise I can be the serious relationship you want.” You sighed at his words, knowing you needed another sip of alcohol before you could do anything else. “Tell me that in the morning Jake, when you’re sober.” You stood up and left the living room so you didn’t have to see the disappointed look on Jakes face, finding yourself in his bedroom and changing into Jakes clothes so you could drift off to sleep. 

You woke up to Jake wanting to talk about last night immediately but you somehow successfully persuaded him to let you wake up and have a cup of coffee.“I know I haven’t had the best reputation with long-term relationships but I wanna try, with you. So just please, can we work this out?” Jake said quietly, he’s never had to do stuff like this before and you could tell he was taking it seriously. “You know how this is gonna end if it doesn’t go well right? I need you and I can’t lose you.” You said quietly, afraid to make any eye contact with him because you were tearing up at the thought of losing him.

“Then I won’t let it go bad.” Jake sat closer to you and tucked the loose strands of your hair behind your ear and he noticed the tears. 

“You promise?” You mumbled, looking up at him. “I promise y/n.” Jake said while smiling lightly at you before you pressed your lips onto his and you could’ve sworn the kiss was out of a movie, it was perfect.

[sunflowersteves]

Bloody & Bruised || Drinking Games

mob!bucky barnes x boxer!reader

𝒄𝒉. 𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: You, Shuri, Gamora, and Wanda all head to a new bar in town. You see a secret area that’s restricted, and of course, Wanda wants to see what’s behind it. The breath you hold ultimately leaves you as you stare at those cerulean blue eyes again.

author’s note: soo i’m liking this series wayyy better than before and I think it just flows better. I really like it and i hope you all do too!

warnings: drinking, violence, blood, a little angst, smut, fingering, [18+ only!!]

chapter one // series m.list // m.list 

You sighed, your hips joined Shuri's as you sat in one of the booths at the bar she asked you to come to the other day. You took small sips out of the stirring straw of your tequila sunrise. The sweet taste of syrup and tequila rushed down your throat, a nice burn following after. You’ve already had one before this, so you were getting quite buzzed.

It was nice feeling a bit dizzy as yesterday you were a ball of nerves from figuring out that the guy on the subway was a famous mobster. Shuri was luckily able to calm you down and promised to help you relax. You felt relaxed, considering you haven’t thought about him the whole time you were here.

You laughed as you watched a drunk Gamora try to get Shuri’s brother, T’challa, to go dance with her. Her words slurred together, but T’challa agreed as he was then dragged to the dance floor. There were bodies all around them, dancing next to them as they disappeared into the crowd.

You turn to Shuri to tell her something, but neither Wanda nor Shuri were paying any attention to you. You follow their line of sight to see them staring at a bunch of people walking into an area that looks restricted.

All three of you could see a bouncer in front of a doorway near the bar, letting people in and out of the secret area. Wanda’s eyes sparkled slightly, and you internally groaned. Whatever was behind that door, you wanted no part of it. You had a match tomorrow, and you didn’t want to get tangled in whatever the fuck.

Both Shuri and Wanda quickly turned to you with gleaming, begging eyes. You outwardly groaned at the sound of their pleas and begs. Wanda grabbed your arm and, you rolled your eyes. 

“Please, please, please-”

“Alright, alright. We can try to get in, but if we-” Shuri and Wanda drowned out your sentence with cheers of victory. You chuckled beside them while they shoved you towards the doorway. The tall bouncer looked at the two of you with a raised eyebrow.

“Names?”

“Wanda. Wanda Maximoff.” She stares hard at the bouncer as he narrows his eyes and tightens his folded arms across his chest. His lips were in a thin line, clearly unimpressed by Wanda’s reaction. She leaned a little closer with sneering eyes.

“You don’t know who I am, do you? Heard of Pietro Maximoff? One of the wealthiest men in the city? Well, that’s my brother.” She looked at her nails as if she was bored with the conversation. “I wonder what he would think about his little sister being turned down?” 

You and Shuri could only look at her wide-eyed at the scene in front of you. You never knew that Wanda had it in her to manipulate somebody like that with her money, it was kind of impressive considering she could never hurt a fly. You also didn’t even know her brother was some kind of wealthy businessman.

The bouncer stutters over his words and quickly moves aside, letting the two of you inside. You all cheer in victory and laugh together at the situation. “Damn, Wanda, that was harsh.” She just brushes it off with laughter as you continue down the hallway.

“Yeah, I bullshitted all of that. My brother works at that pizza place near my apartment.”

Your eyes look around the place, and it was not what you were expecting. You thought that it would just be a bunch of rich people snorting coke on a brunch of tables. You thought you were going to be bored as Wanda and Shuri bounced around to other tables talking to people. 

You were quite surprised to see a bunch of people surrounding a boxing ring, with two shirtless men fighting each other. Shuri smirked next to you, but you missed it, completely enamored by what was before you. Wanda dragged the two of you towards the front of the crowd. In the middle, the group formed a circle while two men had wrapped bands around their fists while they punched and dodged each other.

Pounding sounds of cheering escalate as one of the men punch the other one in the face, his body going limp and hitting the hard floor. However, not everyone cheers as some have to cough up some of their money because they lost the bet.

The referee walks up to the winner as he yells in excellence and pride, then walked around high fiving those who had bet on him. The ref quickly grabs the boxer’s fist and yanks it in the air, the crowd still cheering as loud as they can for the winner. They start to die down, the referee trying to calm down the mob of people so he can speak. 

“Who wants to challenge the winner?” 

The referee scans the crowd, looking for any sign of an opponent willing to fight the winner. For a short amount of time, there was silence. Considering that this boxer was notorious for winning all of his rounds, nobody wanted to challenge him.

You didn’t know whether you were just dumb, or it was the liquid courage that was coursing through your body as you blurted out that you wanted to join in on the fight.

“I do.” 

Your voice chimes through the silence of the ring; widened eyes glanced your way. The referee slightly hesitates before making a motion that beckons you forward and into the ring. However, not everyone has happy to see a woman challenging the winner.

“I’m not fighting a measly woman.”

Anger had coursed through your body, lying still on your stomach. All you did was roll your eyes at the boxer, a smirk coming forward across your face. 

“You think I’m inferior, and yet you won’t fight me? It sounds like you’re more afraid that I’ll challenge your authority and obscene masculinity.” 

Shuri and Wanda were backing you up with cheering while the crowd around the ring slowly started to join them. “The crowd wants her to fight, Jeff.” The man snarled at you as the referee gave you some bands. You took off the jacket that sat on your shoulders, which Wanda took immediately. 

The referee paused, making sure that you were good to go before the match started. You were now facing your opponent, a smirk teasing your face. This was a terrible shitty idea, but you couldn’t help but feel giddy at the adrenaline that was bouncing around in your body. It felt good to fight other than those with rules and guidelines. 

“Who are you fighting for?”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “For?”

The referee points with his finger behind you, and you whip around. A gasp leaves your lips at the man sitting in what looked almost like a throne. There he was, James Barnes, the asshole that you met on the subway. He had three women surrounding him with flirtatious touches. He almost looked like a king. 

Next to him, you recognized slightly as the henchmen in the subway. One was a man with blue eyes and blonde hair, and the other was a woman with fiery red hair. You assumed they were his most trusted partners. 

Your eyes narrow slightly at the man, and you turn around, facing your opponent again. You never saw the Mob Bosses eyes dancing around you with a humorous gleam.

“I’m fighting for myself.”

The referee shrugged at you before locking eyes with James, making sure that it was okay you weren’t fighting for the mafia. You infer that he gives a nod towards the ref as he nods back before turning towards you, telling everyone that the fight was about to start.

You were given a mouthguard that you placed in your mouth. Your eyes flutter close, and you take a deep breath, letting your senses calm itself as you prepare to fight. The ref starts to count down from ten, looking at the two of you as the crowd starts betting on the guy in front of you. 

You knew that no one was going to bet on you, none of these sexist jerks would be able to see how incredible you are unless you beat the shit out of this dude. To them, you have to prove yourself.

“Fight!” The referee breaks out of the ring, and your eyes snap open, watching the muscular man in front of you. He takes the first swing, which you were able to block easily. The crowd around you had gasped, definitely not expecting you to prevent that like it was nothing.

Your opponent narrowed his eyes and proceeded to swing another punch. Again, you dodged it with ease, and the boxer in front of you didn’t miss the sly smirk on your face. While he was distracted at thinking about his next move, you swung a right hook that connected straight to his jaw.

His body took the blow, and he almost fell backward, there was a bit of purple bruising already forming onto his now injured jaw. The crowd erupted in cheers and yelled at the amount of force you were giving. All Shuri and Wanda did was smirk, knowing that the man had offered defeat when you said you were going to fight.

The ref holds up his hand, and you stop for a second while he checks on the guy; he nods that he’s okay, and the referee jumps back into the crowd. The boxer groans in annoyance and narrows his eyes at your figure. He couldn’t even get a swing in and punch you in the face, which was something that never had happened before. 

This time, he went for an uppercut just as he thought you were caught off guard by the crowd cheering again. However, he was clearly wrong. This time though, you completely stopped his movements. You had quickly grabbed his fist, his punch wholly deflated. 

In fast movements, you quickly swing with your other arm and hit him square in the face, blood seeping out from his nose and onto your jaw, which you knew would be sore tomorrow. He stumbles slightly before looking completely stunned. His eyes were rapidly moving from side to side as his vision became blurry. He sunk to his knees, the crowd was now silent in shock.

Immediately, he was fully slumped to the ground now, eyes fully closed. The ref ran over to him, counting down from ten as he watched for any movement. He got down to one and was astounded as he looked at you, your face and body completely untouched.

Two punches, that’s all you gave for this man to be knocked cold onto the ground. You definitely weren’t fighting to just fuck around in the ring. The crowd had practically exploded, never before had they seen somebody K.O. someone in a matter of minutes. 

Shuri and Wanda, on the other hand, were extremely pleased with the rich men giving them all their money. They were delighted to have them cough up their riches. You turn around to see the mob boss stare at you with a look that you couldn’t quite decipher. 

However, his demeanor quickly changed into that of a cocky one as a smirk came plastered onto his lips. 

“C’mon, doll, you’ve earned an award.”

Your chest was heaving up and down from the fight. You let your eyes trail from the top of his head down to his shoes.

“I’m good, oh so dangerous mob boss.” 

A chorus of laughter left the red-headed woman at your remark while James just sneered. You were about to leave when his guards stepped a bit closer to you. 

“Not even going to stay for a drink?”

A sigh escaped past your lips, knowing you didn’t exactly have a choice with his guards. You could take these two; however, you figured this whole place was riddled with them so it was probably a wiser choice to just roll with the flow. 

You watched as the got out of the throne-like chair and fostered you to follow. Behind his chair was a red velvet curtain, which you assumed led to a private bar. His two friends, including the other guards, stayed still while you followed James into the private area.

It was quite dark and it was undoubtedly empty, not even a bartender was at the bar. It looked to be quite an old bar, lots of the finishing touches looked like they were from the twenties. He sat onto one of the barstools, swirling what looked like whiskey. 

“So, Bronx girl, where’d you learn to fight like that?”

Your eyebrows shot up as his question; you definitely didn’t expect him to remember you. He grabbed an empty glass and slid it over to you, pouring you a glass of whiskey. His eyes flicker over towards yours, and he chuckles at your expression.

“You left quite an impression, doll. I’ve never been turned down before.”

A sly smirk appears onto his face when you roll your eyes. You take a sip of the whiskey and hiss a bit at the burn but then let the oaky flavor fill your taste buds.

“My dad. He was one of the biggest boxers in Morris Heights. He taught my sister and me how to box at a younger age. He always said he’d get in trouble one day, and he needed to know we’d take care of ourselves.”

His lips curled into a smile as he took a large gulp os his whiskey, his eyes never left yours. 

“Bucky.”

You turn towards him a bit with confused eyes before taking another sip of your whiskey, now giving you numbness where your knuckles are bruised and bloody.

“That’s my name, my nickname anyway.”

You nod, turning towards him with a light smile. For the big bad and misogynistic guy that you met on the subway, this was someone you could potentially be friends with. Yeah, he’s a mob boss, but he doesn’t seem to see you as an object.

“Y/n.”

~

You don’t really know when the night progressed, but it very much did. Currently, your lips were locked with a certain mob boss and boy were his lips sweet. All night he would talk to you about old memories with his friends and he would even speak to you about his mother. You got to know who Bucky was, not some mob boss that rules over the city. 

He definitely didn’t treat you like you were some object, so you were just hoping all his riches and fame were a ruse. He had treated you like a gentleman all night, and as you got a closer look at him, he was definitely more handsome than you remember.

His lips were engulfing yours, his hot wet mouth swallowing you whole. His velvet tongue made its way into your mouth, leaving trembling kisses. He tasted like whiskey and faded mint, which made your knees slightly weak. Your hands moved down to his chest, prompting a sweet groan to erupt from his throat.

Your back was pressed up against the bar wall, touching some of the bottles behind you. Your legs were tightly wrapped around his torso as your kisses became hungrier. 

The whiskey bottle was long empty by now, the two of you had drank one whole. His hands were touching all over your body, from your legs to your stomach to your arms and your back.

You were both sloppy, tongues peaking out to wet each other’s mouths. 

You whimpered when he squeezed your hips, his slick tongue flicking against yours. A chuckle had lifted off his mouth at the sounds you were making from his touches. Your head was spinning, and your heart wouldn’t stop pounding in your ears. His hands moved down to the waistband of your jeans, and he hurriedly yet gently unbuttoned them. 

With your permission, which you gladly gave, his hand slowly reached down to stripe your slick folds. His middle finger circled around your entrance, which elicited a gasp from you. 

“You’re so wet, doll. All we’ve done is kissin’, huh?” 

All you could do was groan as he slid a finger inside, your walls slightly clenching at the feeling. Your hands were now pressed in a tight hold on his shoulders as he took his thumb and started to circle your clit. The sensitive bud felt good against his rough finger, your nails dug against his shoulder, which leads a dent in his tailored suit.

He wickedly smirks at the way you almost scream when he adds another finger, his throbbing cock was pressed up against your thigh. 

“You feel so good against my fingers, babydoll. Your moans are like a song.” 

You whimper as his fingers curl slightly, hitting the rough patch that was your g-spot. Your arousal was spilling out of you and onto his fingers, your clit was now very swollen and tender to the touch. He pressed fast, hot kisses against your mouth and cheeks, his tongue wetting every surface. 

You sucked in a breath as his fingers started to go in and out faster than ever, trying to chase that sweet release. You were almost there, that coil inside of your stomach, and the nerves that circled your cunt was about to pop.

“Bucky, please, I-”

“That’s it doll. I’ve got you. Cum around my fingers.”

A few pumps of his thick fingers into your heat, and you screamed his name, not caring who heard at the moment. Your lower body shook with pleasure as his fingers were riding out your high, which he then gave you much praise. 

His fingers were completely covered with your arousal. He never lost eye contact with you as he pulled his hand out from your pants and licked his fingers like they were lollipops.

His lips locked with yours as his hand lifted up to caress your cheek, and you tasted the sweetness of yourself. You grew dizzier, so you pushed your arms up to his chest, breaking your lips from his. You both sat there regaining strength, the sounds only heard was the club and you both panting. 

“My place?”

You quickly nodded, not giving a fuck at the moment. 

“Drax, get the car. Now.”

~~

next chapter

Bloody and Bruised: @xoasalxo @raven-rust @widowbite-legit​

Permanent Taglist: @captainchrisstan @angstysebfan @teenagereadersciencenerd

[svtskneecaps]

Walls Could Talk Part 31 ~ don’t say it

(Seventeen Fic, Superpower! Non-Idol! High school! AU)

You’re just a high school kid trying to survive your senior year. Seems simple enough. Problem is, you landed a major crush on a good looking transfer student, and unfortunately, the both of you are hiding some abilities that are a bit less than normal, and there’s a ghost you thought you buried in your past that’s rearing his ugly head. So… maybe this won’t be as easy as you were hoping.

< Prev | First | Masterlist

hello, thanks for you patience, prepare for pain. while you do that i’m going to learn manual turning in mariokart wii. pray for me.

Tag List: @uglyratlmao​ @lowkeycarat​ @princeofshenzhenuwus​ @snowyseungs​ @angelmingyu​

You ended up going to the show. Derek had taken so much from you already that you just couldn’t let him take this from you too. You’d called the police, you’d told your parents about the messages, you’d informed the director about the potential danger, you’d taken every step. You didn’t think he would go after the students, but you wanted to cover your bases.

The show was glorious. The lead actor dropped their prop into the audience and ad libbed it away masterfully. Jun, watching from the wings next to you, nudged your side and brushed away an imaginary tear. “They grow up so fast!”

At the show’s end, you helped the kids get out of costume and put their props away, and you congratulated them on their successful performance. There’d be one final meeting to watch the recording and have some cookies, just to celebrate, but until then you sent them off to their parents and prepared to face going home alone.

“Hey, Soonyoung was making some noise about having a little post-show get together at our house,” Jun said. “You want to come?”

You glanced away from where you’d been staring at the side door contemplatively. “I--” wait, really? “Yeah, okay.”

“Awesome,” he said, and he grinned in that way that always made your stomach get lighter. He swept into a deep bow like the one he’d taught the lead in the play. “May I escort you to your carriage?”

You were probably blushing harder than you had in your life, but you took his arm. “You may,” you said. “Thank you.”

His family joined you as you made your way around the front, which took some of the tension out of your shoulders (but nothing relieved the tension more than your quick glance at the police cruiser sitting in the parking lot, who informed you loudly in a self-important voice that there had been not a peep nor a whisper of Derek the whole night).

You waited for their cars to leave before you pulled out of the parking lot, partly to ensure they’d get home before you arrived, and partly to ensure that should Derek suddenly make himself known, you’d be there.

You didn’t want to see him, but you wanted them to see him without you even less.

Soonyoung answered at the first knock, pulling you inside with a huge grin. “Congratulations on a great show!”

“The kids did most of it,” you deflected almost on instinct.

“He congratulated as many of them as he could find too, don’t worry,” Joshua said. “C’mon, Seungkwan ordered pizza.”

Time sort of fell away for awhile. At some point Vernon produced the game of Risk from a cupboard, and then you asked if they had Monopoly, and everything sort of dissolved into chaos from there as you introduced them to the hellgame combination that was Riskopoly. You played the role of banker and referee, since there weren’t enough pieces for everyone and someone had to have an eye on the rules. At some point they knocked Jun out of the game and he sat next to you, and at some point you started yawning, and at some point he took over the bank, and at some point you ended up lying against his side, watching Seungkwan get three straight rolls of 1 while trying to advance into Jeonghan’s country.

Later, you couldn’t remember when or how you’d gotten there, with his arm wrapped around your side. You couldn’t remember last feeling so at ease.

Eventually, though, you remembered time was a thing that existed, and finally checked your phone.

“Shit,” you said, seeing several texts from your parents. “It’s like 1 AM.”

You looked up and could tell just from the looks they were giving you that the 95 line knew about Derek.

“You want to stay the night?” Seungcheol offered without hesitation.

“Can I?”

“Of course,” Seungkwan said, glaring into his hand as he prepared to roll the die again. “I’ve still got to decimate Jeonghan and I can’t do that if the referee’s gone.”

“Ooh, that’s a big word,” Vernon said cheerfully, organizing his three Monopoly bills. “Sure you can do it?”

“Of course I can!”

(he threw the die for a reasonable roll of two fours and a five, which Jeonghan immediately destroyed with a pair of sixes. “Next time we play this you’re reffing,” Joshua said)

They produced an old T-shirt for you to change into overnight (and you could just tell it was Jun’s even though nobody said so; it was exactly his style and it smelled like his cologne). You put your hair up to quickly wash your face before heading into the basement.

Jun was rummaging through a closet when you got down. He tossed a couple blankets onto the couch. “I hope that’s enough,” he said. “It gets pretty cold down here.”

“It’ll be fine,” you said, despite knowing extremely well how cold you get (and how cold your town gets this time of year).

He turned to look at you, and paused. “Your hair’s up,” he said.

“Oh-- yeah.” Your hand flew up to touch it. “I-- was washing my face.”

“It’s cute,” he said. On instinct you turned to hide your face, playing with the wispy bits of hair by your ear.

You jumped when you feel his gentle touch on your fingers. He pulled your hand down and something in your chest changed as you realized your scar is on that side.

“When you said you knew the damage his ring makes. . .”

You pulled your hand away gently, tugging the hair tie out and letting your hair fall to cover the scar again. “Yeah,” you said. “That’s what I meant.”

You didn’t look up; you knew what his face would look like. You’d seen the expression on your parents, your nurses, your therapist-- you didn’t want to see it on Jun.

“Y/N,” he said, “I. . .”

“If you’re going to say sorry,” you said softly, “then don’t. I’ve heard it from everyone.”

You could see his hand reaching out like he wanted to take your hand again, but he dropped it again.

“I won’t let him get near you again,” he said. “If you want me to.”

“I don’t want it to come to that.” You scooted around him, picking up the blankets from the couch, if only to wrap your hands in them. “I don’t-- I don’t want him to be near you. I--”

You choked on the words.

His face changed, then, and now you knew why Minghao had said you would know if he knew. He looked at you and there was a new shine in his eyes.

“Y/N,” he said, “I lov--”

“No.” You stumbled back, the backs of your knees knocking into the couch and sending you down. “No, don’t say it, I can’t-- you can’t, Jun, I--” (either the room was spinning or you were) “There’s too much I haven’t told you, I can’t--” you shook your head-- “I can’t do that to you. Please, I-- not yet, please.” You hadn’t told him about the hospital, or your power, and yes it was silly to be afraid to tell him that, he read minds for god’s sake, if anyone would understand your ability it would be him, but the hospital-- you didn’t want to think about it, let alone tell him (you hadn’t even told Minghao yet). “I want you to be able to leave if you don’t-- if you can’t-- if it’s too much for you, if you learn it all and you can’t--” (someone had to be sucking all the air from the room because suddenly your lungs weren’t filling enough)-- “can’t love me anymore.”

“There aren’t any secrets you have that could change my feelings,” he said, and repeated it in Mandarin like that sealed it.

“Please-- please don’t make promises you don’t know if you can keep.” You crushed the blankets against your chest like if you cracked a rib your lungs would find room to expand again.

“Okay,” he said. “But-- I needed you to know. And I-- I want you to know, when you’re ready to speak, I’m ready to listen.”

You didn’t think you’d ever be ready. “Thank you,” you said anyway.

He gave you a soft look, and you found your breath catching in your throat in a way that had nothing to do with the fear thrumming in your veins (a softer, more pleasant kind of anxiety, and some part of you made the connection between this and his false proposal in the Walmart parking lot).

“Good night, Y/N,” he said, and you heard the I love you.

“Good night, Jun.”

Next >

(next part Wednesday, May 13)

[shortythescreen]

come over

Warning(s): NSFT/18+, friends with benefits, sex with feelings lol. 

Relationship(s): Octane/Female Reader.  

Author’s Notes: this was my first post on ao3 and i’m trying to actually start using this blog so. here’s the post, lmao! my spanish sucks but i understand everything, hence the ref to a meme in spanish. :) 

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3.

come over?

That’s what lights up your phone screen at damn near three in the morning. You roll over, squinting at the bright screen as you grab it from your bedside table. It’s one of the lamest texts you’ve ever gotten. It’s barely a step up from the even more basic ‘u up?’ and you’re half tempted to leave him on read. Octavio can do better than that.

Yet, you scroll through your compilation of gifs and send him one of a woman rolling her eyes. Sure, it’s disdainful but he now knows that you are, in fact, awake.

About three months ago, you were offered a job by Apex, the corporation running the well renowned Apex Games. The offered pay was astronomical in comparison to what you made at your humble little gig as a thorn in a journalist’s side. Room and lodging would be included in the miniature city built just for Champions and the people who made the games happen.

All you had to do was do what you do best. Take pictures.

Every advertisement, webpage, and piece of merchandise is covered with your pictures of the Legends. Those that you take in the studio given to you and those that you take off the clock. Every picture on your camera belongs to Apex, even with your signature scratched at the bottom of all of them.

Because of this, it had taken a select few Legends time to warm up to you. Others, not so much.

Octavio, better known as Octane, might as well have sat in your lap when you walked in with a camera hanging around your neck.

Though you’re a lot quieter than ‘The Adrenaline Junkie’, you have about as much impulse control as he does. So one night when he’d visited you in your studio a little past business hours, brandishing a bottle of Hennessey Black the size of your head, one thing lead to another and, well.

The events of that night lead to you getting texts from Octavio at damn near three in the fucking morning asking you to come over.

i have a box of wings and a bottle of Smirnoff with ur name on it.

You bite the tip of your tongue. The offer’s tempting.

and other things, if you can keep up. ;)

That, even more so.

Against your better judgment, you text him back with words instead of a gif. You’ll be over in ten minutes.  If he drinks all the liquor before you get there, you’re leaving. You imagine him cackling at his screen because if you know him at all, and you do, he’s probably polished off at least a quarter of the bottle on his own.

Octavio’s apartment is a five minute walk from yours but you gave yourself an extra five to brush your teeth and find your shoes. The penthouse suites offered to all the Legends is right across the street from your simple one bedroom.

When you first moved in, you thought maybe Apex Corp wanted you to take paparazzi sort of shots of their competitors. They’ve never asked you to and you haven’t bothered to try, so you guess they just gave you what was available.

Whatever. You don’t mind living in earshot of some of the deadliest people in the Outlands. Especially now that you’re fucking one of them.

God, you never thought you’d be in this position. Sure, you’re not fucking blind, most of the Legends are attractive. Bangalore has a smirk that drops panties and a voice that’s a little more gravelly than the average woman. Wraith’s got the prettiest eyes you’ve ever seen, powers or otherwise, and her skin is flawless. Gibraltar could probably defeat half of his opponents by throwing them.

Even those that you can’t see the faces of have appeal – Bloodhound’s shroud of mystery has gained them quite the following online and what Octavio doesn’t show of his face is made up for by his stupid little crop top.

You just… Didn’t anticipate any of them finding you attractive too. Least of all the speedster with a penchant for picking up bad habits. Like fucking the photographer. You run your hand down your face as you exit your house, locking it behind you before jogging across the street to the penthouse suites.

Even if you had toyed with the possibility of warming one of their beds, you certainly didn’t think you’d wind up in Octavio’s. Maybe Elliot, who’s got a reputation for getting around, or Ajay, who’s could crush you with her thighs. Octavio, whose accent and stupid selfies had caught the attention of many Apex fans, was the last legend you expected to end up making your heart do the jitterbug-

It’s not, you’re not, you vehemently remind yourself as you enter the elevator of the Legends’ suites. Absolutely not. No way. You walk down the hallway to Octavio’s door, reminding yourself over and over again you’re most certainly not catching feelings and whatever dance your heart is doing has something to do with the lack of sleep.

Even though that makes no sense, it’s what you tell yourself, because there’s no fucking way you’re into Octavio like that. Not into someone you’re just hooking up with. Not into someone who’s only interested in hooking up.

You knock once on his door and you barely have a chance to step back before Octavio’s tearing it open. His mask is gone and even though you’ve seen his face a million times by now, you still take a moment to breathe him in. He’s got the prettiest green eyes you’ve ever seen, glassy with alcohol, and you notice that he’s in need of a shave, his cheeks tinted dark by pinpricks of facial hair.

“It’s three am,” you tell him.

“Yet here you are, amiga,” he smirks.

“For the booze,” you reply and he snickers, shoving out a plastic cup you hadn’t noticed he was holding. The stench of Smirnoff envelops you and you sigh, snatching it away and shouldering your way into his apartment.

“What are you doing up, anyway?” You ask, flopping on the couch and taking a large enough gulp of your cup to make your nose burn. You squeeze your eyes briefly closed, letting out a little ‘ahh’ as Octavio’s weight sinks the opposite side of the couch.

“Couldn’t stop watching The Flash. But Barry got kinda boring, so I texted you,” he says and you snort, opening one eye to glance at him. You hadn’t even noticed the title glaring at you from the flat screen only a few feet away, the only light in the apartment aside from the stove.

God, he’s so unfairly pretty. He’s resting his tousled head of green hair, the same green as his eyes, in his hand, propped up on the back of the couch. His PLUS ULTRA tattoo peeks out from the three quarter sleeved shirt he’s wearing and you go for your drink, hoping you can excuse the warmth in your chest as Smirnoff.

“Of course you were. You’re so fuckin’ basic.”

“I’m on brand.”

“You’re at home. Alone.”

“Not anymore.”

You snort, finally beginning to feel that warmth in your chest drip down into your stomach. The easy, fuzziness that comes with being here, with drinking and banter and the promise of something so much sweeter.

“Well, thanks for inviting me,” you say, “now where are those wings?”

As promised, Octavio brings you a takeout box with about thirty wings. With liquor brewing in your stomach, you probably could demolish them, but you’re barely buzzed and still willing to be polite.

It’s the wee hours of the morning, so you’re grateful that each of the Legends have soundproof walls. You and Octavio put on old telenovelas, even though your Spanish is slim to none, and he makes you laugh by describing the scenes to you.

“Oho man, she’s such a bitch. The mother basically just told the son’s lover acompáñame a ver esta triste historia.”

“I don’t speak Spanish, Oc,” you remind him around a mouthful of a wing coated in ranch.

“Remember how the girl’s parents died when she was six?” He asks and you nod your head, vaguely remembering the shitty graphics acting as flashbacks. “The son’s mother heard that and might as well have said ‘that’s cute’.”

You were right to assume Octavio had already had a hefty serving of alcohol before he’d texted you, as he brings out the bottle when your glass gets low, a little less than half of it gone. He’s got a higher alcohol tolerance than you and it’s obvious the more you two delve into the Smirnoff.

He smirks at you when you whine about the wings getting low, polishing off what must be your twelfth. You’ve officially had enough alcohol to stop being polite and Octavio loops an arm around your shoulder. When had he gotten so close to you on the couch?

“There, there,” he murmurs into your hair, “there will be wings tomorrow, mami.”

“But I want them now,” you complain, only to completely forget your train of thought as you bury your nose in the collar of Octavio’s shirt. “Fuck, you smell good. Do you always smell this good?”

“I smell like liquor,” he snickers, kissing the top of your head and you shudder as he slides his fingers through the small hairs at the base of your neck.

“And soap. What soap do you use? I bet you use Old Spice. Old Spice is so basic but it smells so fucking good,” you ramble, tilting your head just enough so that your lips brush against his collarbone.

“Gracias,” he hums, tilting his head back a smidge. You take this as an invitation and begin placing careful, open mouthed kisses up the length of his neck.

Octavio sighs through his nose, arm around your shoulders sliding down your side to pull you half into his lap. Your teeth scrape his pulse and his grip on you tightens.

“You didn’t say yes or no,” you absently mumble as he grabs a handful of your ass. He squeezes before you pull back just enough to meet those pretty green eyes of his, dark with want.

“Yeah, it’s Old Spice,” he says, then leans in to devour your mouth with his.

Octavio kisses like he moves. Quick, eager, his tongue pushes into your mouth and makes you groan. You haphazardly drape one leg over his, twisting so your chest is flush against his. He bites your lower lip and you whimper, half grinding against his prosthetic legs, cool against your heat.

His free hand sneaks down to grab your other ass cheek, pulling you up to straddle him. His lips leave yours with a pop and he bites his lower lip as you shudder against his dick jumping under your hips.

“We haven’t even started yet,” you say, allowing him to slip his hands beneath your shirt, gripping your breasts and rolling the peaks under his thumbs. You sigh, continuing, “how are you so hard?”

“How are you so sexy?” He snarks, releasing your tits in favor of grabbing the hem of your top. He pulls it off eagerly, eyes hot.  

“You too,” you half beg and he obliges, tugging that snug fitting shirt over his head. You hum, hot with liquor, and with lust, and with the look he’s burning into your chest. He leans back into the couch, drinking in your disheveled state before reaching up to cruelly pinch your nipples.

You gasp, trying to lean into the sensation and alleviate the pain. Octavio only pulls harder, biting his lower lip when you’re almost chest to chest.

“Asshole,” you hiss and he grins, giving you a flash of his tongue piercing.

“You like it,” he says as you relent, going still in his lap. Octavio finally releases his almost too tight grip on one nipple in favor of looping an arm around your waist. He’s torturous to the other, squeezing, rolling, tugging. As a reward for the way you buckled, he slurps the free one into his mouth. You moan, his mouth all wet warmth and cool metal. His thumb flickers teasingly across your other pebbled nipple and you arch your back.

“Oc, please,” you pant and he pulls off of you with a pop, cupping the tit he still has a handle on to flick his tongue across it.

“Por favor? Por favor que?” He half laughs only to break off in a needy groan when you grind against him. “Fuck fuck fuck, okay, stand up for a sec.”

You roll yourself along his dick for a moment longer, relishing in the way his hips instinctually jerk against yours. He squirms beneath you, opting to tightly grab your hips.

“Shit, mami,” Octavio pants, sharply thrusting up before trying to push you off. “C’mon, c’mon, you’re wearing too many clothes.”

You finally climb off him and he follows you forward, sharply pulling down your sweats. A long, sticky trail connects you briefly to them and he outright groans at how filthy that is.

“You’re so wet,” he all but whines, fascinatedly rubbing a finger between your lips. Your breath hitches as he pointedly drags his knuckle across your clit, teasing you with the not quite enough touch.

“Shorts off,” you growl, and he hurriedly obeys. His cock springs free as his shorts hit the carpet and your mouth waters. The tip is swollen and pink, leaking with excitement. You’re half tempted to get on your knees, swipe the pre up with your tongue and put him at your mercy.

“Oh, mami, yes, you can do that for me later,” he babbles, making you realize you’d said that aloud. You try to climb back into his lap, only to have him grab you by the shoulders. You yelp as he tosses you onto your back on the opposite side of the couch, maneuvering himself between your thighs.

You two have been doing this long enough to have done away with condoms and you’re so fucking grateful for that as he pushes himself between your lips. Your slick helps him along as he glides the tip against your aching, swollen clit.

“Oc,” you impatiently murmur and he smirks. Octavio is a bastard at the worst times and not even the bedroom is exempt, because he grabs his shaft and taps the leaking tip of his cock against your clit.

“How bad do you want it, hm?” He asks and if you weren’t so overwhelmed, you’d roll your eyes. You settle for propping yourself up on your elbows and thrusting your hips up. His cock catches on your hole and his breath hitches in his throat.

“That bad, huh?” Octavio breathlessly whispers and you glare at him through the fog of your lust.

“Aren’t you supposed to be quick?”

“You want it to be over? Aw, okay, guess I’ll-“

Before he can pull away, you wrap your legs around his waist and yank him against you. Octavio slips, caught off guard, and he catches himself on the arm of the couch, letting out a strangled groan as the tip of his dick breeches your swollen cunt.

“Fuck,” he grits out, suddenly unconcerned with teasing. He drives himself the rest of the way inside and you sigh, relieved to be so wonderfully full.

“I’m trying,” you gleefully counter and he sharply thrusts into you with a laugh that’s half moan.

You reach around, clawing at his lower back as he fucks into you. His elbow lands on the space next to your neck and you find his hand cupping the crown of your head, simply resting there as he fucks you like he’s trying to win a race.

Octavio moans and curses and whines just as much as you do, his green eyes squeezed shut. You rake your nails up the length of his spine and he groans, giving you an especially brutal thrust. Your mouth falls open and he takes the opportunity to sloppily kiss you, tongue pushing past your lips to twist with yours and he doesn’t taste so much like liquor anymore.

You sob into the kiss as he angles his hips down a little, hitting right there. He gets the picture quickly and he aims just so, abusing that place that makes you see stars. His hips snap into yours and you grab his shoulders for purchase. It’s too much. It’s not enough.

It’s him, pulling away from your kiss to watch you with amazed green eyes. It’s him, grabbing your hips and yanking you onto his dick. It’s him, passing a thumb over your clit, making your eyes roll back. It’s him, hissing your name as his hips begin to stutter and shake. It’s him.

“C’mon, mami, c’mon, I won’t last,” he gasps, fondling your clit desperately and your jaw drops at the sensation. “C’mon, baby, need it, need to feel that tight pussy squeeze my dick, you can do it, do it for me, please, baby, please-“

You say his name as your orgasm hits you, shaking legs tightening so harshly around his waist you can feel every tremor of his hips. He fucks you through it, relentlessly rubbing your clit and you whimper, reaching down to try and shove his hand away. It doesn’t seem to stop him and finally with two, three more thrusts, he’s coming.

Octavio buries his face in your neck, saying something so low and garbled that you barely pick up that it was in Spanish. You don’t care to ask what he said just yet, too busy catching your breath as you clutch his back.

“Shit…” He breathes, turning his head to rest his nose against your still racing pulse. Now, though, it’s not just with need, but you don’t tell him that.

“How’s that for keeping up?” You ask and he snickers, slowly pulling out of you. Octavio reaches down, grabbing his shorts and tucking them beneath your hips to catch the spunk dripping out of you.

“I’ll go get a wash cloth,” he says as you paw at the coffee table for the TV remote. You groan at the time it shows you.

“It’s almost seven, you ass! I have to be to work in two hours!”

“Guess I kept you up all night. At least you weren’t bored.”

“I hate you,” you groan, scrubbing your hands over your eyes. Octavio snickers, making his way towards the bathroom.

“Oh, hey, wait,” you say, propping your head up. He stops short, meeting your gaze. “What did you say? I was kinda preoccupied and didn’t hear.”

“Kinda? You wound me,” Octavio says, placing a hand over his heart. You unceremoniously flip him off. “You think I remember what I said while I was nutting, chica?!”

Octavio grins roguishly. You roll your eyes, throwing one of the couch cushions at him. It doesn’t get anywhere close to hitting him and Octavio snickers, bending down to toss it back onto the couch. “Who knows?”

Octavio turns back to the bathroom and his playful expression slackens. His brow scrunches up as he flicks the light on, closing the restroom door behind him and staring disbelievingly into the mirror.

Te amo, he’d gasped into your neck when he was overwhelmed with the smell of you, the feeling of you, the taste of you.

[ajokeformur-ray]

I got somethin: write headcannons about Erileck. Your own, personal view. Gotta give my favorite ship some love, and also more ideas when I write you stuff 😈💜

OMFGGGGG omgomgomgomg skskksskk I’ve been stockpiling this for a few days bc I gotta think even though it’s my relationship sksksk but I hope this hits your OTP spots + helps as a future ref.

This is written in 1st person bc it’s Joker + I. I hope that doesn’t bother anyone skkssk this is gonna be so much fun I’m hyped!!! There’s no organisation to this lmao so there are jumps all over the place pfft.

Warnings for mentions of trauma, anxiety, depression, also smoking, swearing. Also NSFW bc duh xp 

Word count: 3, 207 (woops?)

Questions or comments on my relationship with Joker are welcomed!! I’m sure there are things I haven’t even considered skskks and ngl I do love talking about our relationship pfft.

Joker and I… sksksk I’d be lucky.

Someone like him loving someone like me??? Ridiculous. A dream.

Someone like me loving someone like him??? Don’t be silly.

… And that’s precisely why we work so well together.

We choose to love each other each and every single day. Again and again, no matter what, we find the time to come back together at the end of a long, exhausting day.

I was with Arthur from the very beginning of the film.

I bumped into Carnival outside Kenny’s Music, and I stood to the side to watch him spin that everything must go! sign. 

I’m scared of clowns but something about this clown captured and maintained my interest and so it was that once this particular rendition of Temptation Rag was over, I approached Carnival and sincerely thanked and complimented him on his performance. 

Both of us blushing, both of us unsure, but neither of us can resist the almost magnetic pull which the other gives off. So I invited him to coffee and dinner (and I paid for everything, of course) and neither of us ever looked back.

I fell in love with Arthur before I even knew his name, and when I love it’s… intense and I fall hard, and I fall fast, and I can never stand back up.

I’ve been told before that I love “too intensely” and it’s “too much” for people (I was told this by my abusers so I suppose they were lying but… it’s a very open, raw wound which I battle daily), but for Arthur the way I love is just right. He needs that clinginess, that reassurance.

I’m already in tears thinking of everything I feel and everything I want to say lmao…

I turned my entire life upside down for him without a single regret, forethought or anything like that, and I never looked back sksksksk.

I stayed with him as Arthur and I did everything I could for him - bought his prescriptions, bought him food, helped him to keep the apartment clean… there were arguments because he thought I was merely looking at him as a charity case, or he was wary in case I was just after something…

But with time, patience and persistence I managed to get Arthur to be at least comfortable around me.

We fell in love together but neither of us said anything. We’re both too shy, too scared of rejection…

I don’t know how we got together, it’s just that one day I stayed overnight at Arthur’s apartment to help him take care of Penny and to take care of him, so exhausted was he…

… And I never left.

I was with him through it all and I made it known only to him that I was proud of him every time he stood up for himself. They all had it coming, anyway (I have a flexible morality lmao).

I love his jokes; he and Bill Hader are my favourite comedians (shush I know Bill wasn’t around in the 80s but work with me) and I adore it when he shares them with me.

The darker the better, imo. My favourites are the ones you laugh at because there’s no other reaction to give.

But I digress.

So. Present day. 

He’s Joker and oh, if I thought I loved Arthur… 

I have a very deep, very raw and passionate love for Joker. He is… he’s my entire world and I love him so much I’m tearing up while I type this. He’s so beautiful it makes me cry daily.

Every time I cry because of how beautiful he is, I go straight to Joker. He deserves to see how loved he is. Sometimes I get upset because I don’t feel satisfied with the level of love I’m showing him; it’s never enough and he deserves more.

This most often happens at night, because I get very Soft™ at night.

As such, Joker and I have a very special nightly routine. 

We spend all day thinking about it but we don’t do this particular thing until nighttime, when we can put our lives away and just soak in each other’s presence.

I cry very easily. Happy, sad, angry, frustrated, upset, elated, joyful, sorrowful… any mood you can think of, I will cry if the emotion reaches a certain intensity.

It’s not unusual for me to come into the living room late at night when I’m in my pyjamas (an oversized t-shirt and a pair of undies - yes, even in winter lmao just pile on the blankets) with tears in my eyes, for whatever reason.

Every time Joker looks up to see this sight, his eyes roam over my body and he smiles, a soft “awwh” leaving his lips as he straightens his legs so I can sit down on his lap.

I sit on his lap and cup his painted face in my hands and I smother him in kisses. I start off slow and then I speed up as the love within my heart grows, and Joker always ends up holding my wrists in his hand and giggling under my touch. 

It usually ends up with one or both of us crying. Joker’s so shocked and so awed that I’m still with him even now, and I just love him so much I can’t do anything else.

Joker’s lap is the best seat and it’s my favourite.

I study there, I sit there, I sleep there. 

Cockwarming is also a common occurrence.

If he’s sat a certain way so I can’t sit on his lap, I’m not afraid to press down on his uppermost knee so he straightens out so I can get comfortable on him.

“Can I have my seat back, please?” or “You stole my seat” are common ways of asking for him to move for me.

He is also my clown blanket skkksksk our favourite sleeping position is for me to lay on my back and for Joker to lay atop me. He becomes everything I can feel and his head rests either on my chest or on my stomach, depending on what he wants. My hands are in his hair… and we sleep.

So, naturally, there are copious opportunities for Joker to love me awake ;) many a morning do I awaken to the sensation of fingers gripping my hips, holding me down while he worships me with his mouth.

We don’t do NSFW things .v. often, we prefer to cuddle and just be close. 

Both of us are virgins and shy ones at that, lmao, so it took awhile for things to even get to that point.

We discovered we just prefer to cuddle over full out sex; less messy, for one.

Full sex is usually for the times when words aren’t enough; after an argument, or when either of us is especially sad or just needs something.

When I want to do this, I usually say, “how about you werewolf and go wild on me now?” and he howls before breaking out in laughter, which I stifle with a kiss…

If Joker wants to, one look from him and I just know. He doesn’t even have to say anything.

My answer is always yes. There’s nothing I won’t do for him and he knows it; it’s okay, though, because he’s the same way for me. We balance each other out really well.

During the rare times I’m awake before Joker is, I’ll kiss him awake; his face, his neck, chest, those adorable soft curves on his stomach… 

Any and every excuse which I can think of do I use to love him. 

It’s a daily goal to love him so hard that he doesn’t know what to do with himself. He deserves nothing less.

I steal his red blazer… often.

If Joker can’t find it, it’s either in the wash or I’m wearing it.

As soon as he takes it off, I’ve got it cradled in my arms, holding it to my face to hide my smile. I wear it when he isn’t, I sleep in it when I miss him (even when he’s right there beside me I still miss him), and I often use it as a pillow.

“Are you sure you don’t love that blazer more than you love me?” // “No.” // Any pout he gives me is kissed away and he giggles against my lips because he got what he was after all along.

We can’t sleep without each other. Joker needs to know that he’s needed, and I need to know that my clown is there for me to keep me safe from the things which my mind tells me are in the dark.

Joker does get annoyed with me sometimes because we both know I’m scared of the dark and I have a vivid imagination, and those two things are difficult to handle on the best of days, but I also love horror films.

Slasher ones are my favourite but I also really enjoy the ones which are dark, gritty, the ones which are based more in the psychological than obvious jumpscares.

I know how Joker can get when I watch them, though, so I tend to watch them when he’s out of the apartment or when there’s nothing else to do.

He never stops me from watching them because I’m a grown ass woman, but he makes his disapproval known by by saying he won’t be comforting me that night when I get too scared to turn the lights off.

In the end, though, there isn’t much he can say because he has unhealthy coping mechanisms just as I do, so he wraps me in his arms and hides my face in his chest or in the crook of his neck. “Close your eyes so you can’t see it’s dark.”

“I love you” is said often between us. 

And never just once: “I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you - “ it can and will be said multiple times.

It makes the other person giggle and get teary eyed. We’re slightly obsessed with each other and we love the way we love each other.

There are other ways we say those three words, spoken too much yet never enough:

“You got what you deserved, Joker” // “I suppose I did.”

I wear my outfit sometimes and go out in it, and on rarer occasions (I have acne so I have to be careful) I even do my face like his.

When I really make to say ‘I love you’, I’ll do both. It never fails to make him cry.

The Way You Look Tonight by Frank Sinatra is our song, as is The Carpenters songs Close to You and Yesterday Once More. 

Every time those songs are on, Joker spins me into him and even though I have two left feet, he dances with me.

The slow, eerie dances he does are my favourite and I love watching him. He knows and he loves it. He always throws me a wink and it never fails to make me blush and emit such a high pitched noise that I feel compelled to pull my shirt collar up and over to cover my face entirely.

Joker always coos and plays peekaboo with me when I do this to coax me out of hiding.

Neither of us want children but we have two pure black rescue kitties whom we love dearly!

That’s Life is another favourite. I love that song and it never fails to make me smile, even when I don’t want to. I play it every day and Joker always dances with me. We prefer the instrumental version; it reminds us of the simpler times when he was still the unseen (not by me, by Gotham in general) Arthur Fleck.

Aaa, Fleck…

I proposed to him. Kinda.

Joker wanted marriage from day one but I was unsure; I despise the institution of modern marriage but one day I caught sight of a ring I liked the look of in a magazine and I took it over to Joker.

I didn’t say anything, I just held the magazine out at that page for him to take, barely able to speak was I through the depths of my emotions.

It took him ten minutes to stop laughing before he dipped a hand into his blazer and withdrew a small box. 

Neither of us said yes and neither of us said no. 

We just put the rings on the other and that was that.

The next day, I went and got it registered with a cackling Arthur in tow. 

I can be emotionally distant at times; if I’m feeling too much, I tend to withdraw into myself rather than upset Joker by burdening him with what I’m feeling. 

He hates it when I do that, though a lot of the time I’m not even aware I’m doing it, and it upsets him and then he withdraws from me.

When Joker starts to pull away from my kisses and stops accepting hugs, that’s usually my holy shit what the fuck, Erika? moment and then I do my best to apologise to him.

I’m always forgiven after it’s made clear that I hurt his feelings, and then we don’t let each other go for the rest of the night.

When I need a reminder of why I love Joker or when I just need to see him for all that he is, I watch his segment on the Murrat show (that’s not a typo - I know what I said.) and I’m sobbing in seconds.

*sigh* “Why do you do this to yourself, Erika?”

“I needed to - you were in so much pain and I - “

He pulls me to him and shushes me. I tuck my face into the warm crook of his neck and lavish him with kisses and I just hold him and hug him as hard as I can and I apologise again and again.

Joker doesn’t understand why I watch it sometimes and tbh neither do I but I do and he always comforts me even though I feel like I should be comforting him.

As I said earlier, I’m scared of the dark and I drink as much coffee as Joker smokes (I can easily reach 18 cups a day. Easy.), so night times are... interesting. 

It can take up to an hour for me to sleep. Not really because of the caffeine (I’m used to it by now and I feel calmer with it than I do without it) but because I just can’t get comfortable or because I’m convinced something just moved in the corner of the room.

Even with my nightlights, I’m still scared.

It annoys Joker when he’s really tired or trying to sleep and it’s not unlike Joker to grumble “lay the fuck still” and wrap his arms around me so I feel obligated to stay still for him.

Joker never holds me so tight that I can’t move, though. I have trauma relating to body autonomy so he makes sure that I know I can move if I want to.

I prefer to sleep either on my back so I can have my clown blanket or on my side so I can face Joker. I keep my phone by my bed so when I miss Joker or need to see him at 3 AM I’ve got pics and GIFs right there, scared am I that I’ll wake up and he’s just a dream and I’m alone again, so I appreciate seeing him when I wake up in the mornings.

Sleepy morning sex

He’s also at perfect liberty to start things when I’m still sleeping, too.

I gave him an all time free pass - that is how much I trust him. It was the biggest display of trust I could think of, and I’ve never gone back on it or regretted it.

I really just want Joker to know, to know, that he’s loved and cherished. I do my best to let him know that he can be his entire self with me, that I want him to, and he does the same for me.

Fair’s fair though so I’m at liberty to start things when he’s sleeping, though I rarely do because he sleeps so little as it is because insomnia, nightmares etc.

We steal each other’s clothes a lot of the time. 

I wear really baggy clothes (my shirts can pass as short dresses) so Joker fits into them easily.

Joker’s very needy and physically affectionate and clingy and even on the days when I don’t want to be touched (again, for trauma reasons), I still allow him to do with me as he pleases.

Not because I feel like I have to, but because I trust him and I know I’m safe with him. When I’m with Joker, I’m the safest woman in the world.

We only use each other’s names - Erika and Joker (Arthur for serious situations) - when attention is needed now or when it’s a deep situation which requires total candour.

Otherwise, for me it’s “my girl” (I melt every time), “my Erika”, “my Queen”, and then generics like darling, sweetheart, love, angel.

For Joker, it’s “my Joker” (he melts), “my King”, “my clown” and then generics like darling, angel, love, honey. 

We do anything for each other and we always do small gestures for each other; Joker makes me a cup of coffee and I slip a cigarette between his thin lips before I light it for him. He changes the batteries in my nightlights without saying anything and I hand scrub the blood out of his clothes while it’s still fresh.

Things like that tell us, even without words, that we want it to work.

When he comes home from whatever he does as Joker (I don’t ask and he doesn’t tell), I check him all over. Any bruises, scraps, cuts... 

The ‘rule’ is this:

As long as he comes back home to me without even a paper cut, then he can do what he wants as Joker, the reputation he didn’t want or ask for.

We do everything together and with each other and of course we get space from each other when it’s wanted or needed; a lot of the time we’re in the same room doing our own things. 

We argue, though I’m not sure what about - but we always make it up to one another. We don’t go to bed angry, either, and we both get upset during fights so tears are shed and wiped away, apologies whispered against trembling lips.

It’s not an easy relationship and there are probably things I haven’t even thought about lmao, but we work hard and the amount of love we have for each other is so strong and so deep it’s bigger than both of us. 

We choose to love each other every single day, no matter what, and that’s why we’re still together

Erileck met: 4/10/2019 // married: 26/3/2020. We skipped the engagement. We’re in love and we know it, so why wait?

[wolfhertz]

30 Questions Quiz!!!

I think this is the first time I’ve ever done something like this, but I was tagged by @katninjagirl97​ and it looks like fun. Why not?

Name: Jillian...or Jill...or really anything of that variation. Hell, I’ll even answer to “hey you”. Though online I mostly go by “Wolf” or “Wolfheart”.

Gender: Female

Star Sign: Virgo

Height: Like...5′2, 5′3. I did not inherit the gift of height like my siblings did.

Time: 2:50 am

Birthday: September 18th

Favorite Bands: Gosh that’s a hard question to answer....Does Broadway count? Most of my music is from musicals, movies, video games, etc. not gonna lie. If not, The Crane Wives are a recent find of mine that I absolutely love. Same with Hidden Citizens (very good for that intense, cinematic music).

Favorite Solo Artists: Tommee Profitt (also that sort of intense, cinematic, movie trailer-esque music, though a bit more orchestral) also, Karliene (she sings a lot of folk music and things like that. Definitely recommend looking her stuff up on Youtube 10/10).

Song Stuck In My Head: “Running with the Wolves” by AURORA (specifically the version from Wolfwalkers, which I haven’t watched yet but REALLY want to) It’s been in my head since I found it a few weeks ago, I swear.

Last Movie: Hmmm...I mean...I’m watching Troy (2004) as I write this for my Greek History class. Not finished yet tho. It’s kinda meh, but it’s mandatory.

Last Show: Gosh I haven’t sat down and watched an actual TV show in so long....This is gonna sound nerdy as hell, but my family and I watch Jeopardy during dinner most nights. Does that count???

When Did I Create This Blog: Late 2019, if I’m not mistaken. December or November, I think.

What Do I Post: My own art (which I haven’t done in MONTHS...Art block mixed with school is a deadly combo), other peoples’ lovely art and writing, and pretty much anything I find interesting, important, or funny. I also kinda use it to archive stuff I like in general, like drawing refs and tips.

Last Thing I Googled: “How long did it take to send a letter from Europe to North America in the 1700s?”....I’m a history nerd, this shouldn’t be surprising. The thought just randomly struck me and I was curious. The answer is roughly 2-3 months, if you’re wondering.

Other Blogs: Nah, just this one.

Do I Get Asks: The odd time, but mostly only when I do prompts or art challenges.

Why I Chose This URL: Oh god....It’s the same as my DeviantART, and I created it when I was 11 or 12 during my Warriors phase. Don’t judge me. We all had one and some people still like it and there’s no shame in that. Though I have been thinking of changing it to something slightly different lately. Hmm....

Following: 124. They’re mostly other artists, fashion (both modern & historical), themed art blogs (tutorials, sci-fi, etc.), and just some funny ones (like...I follow one blog that specifically only posts funny medieval manuscript drawings of animals soooo....).

Followers: 283. I don’t know many of you guys, but I appreciate y’all very much!!!! ❤

Average Hours Of Sleep: Can be anywhere between 5 and 9. My sleep schedule is kinda a mess...

Lucky Number: 3 or 4

Instruments: I used to be able to play the flute, but I haven’t in years.

What I’m Wearing: A tank-top and jean shorts...Because you know, that’s a totally reasonable thing to wear in the middle of winter in Canada.

Dream Job: Hmm...Probably anything revolving around history or art. I’d love to teach history tbh, as a teacher or prof. idk yet. I used to want to be a Concept Artist, which is still definitely something I’d be open to!

Dream Trip: I’d love to do a tour of western Europe tbh. Like, England, Ireland, Scotland, etc. See all those old castles and everything. 😍

Favorite Food: Pretty much any seafood. Especially fish or shrimp. Love that stuff. Or any breakfast food really. I love that stuff.

Nationality: Canadian 🍁

Favorite Song: THAT’S EVEN HARDER TO ANSWER THAN THE FIRST MUSIC QUESTION....It changes depending on the day...If I had to say right now??? “Jenny of Oldstones” by Florence + the Machine (I haven’t watched Game of Thrones yet, but I really want to). It gives off good and sad vibes at the same time, idk how.

Last Book I Read: Hmm....I haven’t finished a book in a while, but I’ve been working my way through Assassin’s Creed: Forsaken by Oliver Bowden the past few months. Very good so far! But also very sad. Why do I always get attached to asshole characters with sad backstories that make me wanna cry???

Top Three Fictional Universes I’d Like To Live In: Oooooh....Marvel is definitely one (get me some cool superpowers or magic, ya know?). Hmm....maybe something like Harry Potter (screw J.K Rowling tho, I just want magic powers). Aaaannd...maybe Skyrim? That could be cool!!! Ride around on dragons and shit, become badass warrior or mage, be a werewolf or vampire, so many options!!!

As for someone to tag....oof...Imma be honest I don’t know many people on this site. 😅 Maybe @bayheart​ if she’s feeling up to it since we’ve been chatting lately! No pressure though. 😄 And also anyone who would like to do it!